Devarim – "A Song Every Day"

The Predator’s Tools

Building communities based on truly transformative justice requires that we strive to “put down the predator’s tools,” according to adrienne maree brown. (We Will Not Cancel Us; more here“). Considering the predator’s tools raises serious misgivings about this week’s Torah portion and many Jewish teachings centering the injunction to pursue “tzedek, tzedek [“justice, justice” or “equity, equity”]. Reflecting on inherited ideas of justice is but one aspect of exploring collapse and the possibility of (re-)building.

This is part of a series on Summer of Collapse.

Updated for more clarity of expression in the “Justice, In/Out of Context” section and addition of “Some History” section below Friday afternoon (8/29/25, around 5 ET)

Justice, In/Out of Context

The Torah portion “Shoftim [Judges]” (Deut 16:18-21:9) is composed of rules about appointing judges and other legal matters. It contains one of the most quoted verses in the Torah, which begins:

tzedek tzedek tirdof…, …צֶדֶק צֶדֶק תִּרְדֹּף
Justice, justice shall you pursue… (JPS 2006)
Equity, equity you are to pursue… (Fox/Schocken 1996)
— Deuteronomy 16:20

Teaching and preaching on this phrase is frequently separated from the context, in both narrow and wider senses.

In one narrow sense, focusing on the phrase alone and not the surrounding verses allows for generalizing the instruction beyond its most likely connection to the previous verse about accepting bribes. On another verse-specific level, many citations of “justice, justice” leave off the second half of the verse, which reads:

וְיָרַשְׁתָּ אֶת־הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר־” אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן לָךְ׃
…in order that you may live
and possess the land that YHWH your God is giving you! (Fox)
…that you may thrive and occupy the land that your God [YHVH] is giving you. (JPS)

Ignoring the bulk of the verse’s language allows for generalizing the instruction in ways the full verse doesn’t support. These specifics need not invalidate teachings centering “justice, justice.” And it’s essential to note that Torah text never stands on its own in Jewish tradition; it is interpreted and, in many cases, ameliorated by centuries of post-biblical teaching and legal rulings. Still, Shoftim reminds us that our inherited ideas of justice — in- and outside of Judaism — include ideas such as judicial death penalty (Deut 17:2-7), blood-avenging (Deut 19:11-13), “an eye for an eye” (Deut 19:21), and expectations of warfare (Deut 20).

Abolitionist efforts of any kind require serious examination of these and other punitive ideas we’re inherited and a careful look at how they frame our understanding of justice. Alicia Suskin Ostriker offers powerful teachings on the concept of justice and how it relates to Jewish theology — and ideas about the topic, more broadly.

Strange Invention

Decades ago, Ostriker remarked on the “strange invention of the Jews, God’s ‘justice'”:

It is a strange invention of the Jews, God’s “justice.” That God should be “just,” obliged to reward good men who obeyed his laws, care for widows and the poor and so forth, and punish evil ones who didn’t, was not a notion that occurred to the Egyptians, the Canaanites, the Babylonians, the Greeks. We appreciate, if we step back a bit from our theological assumptions, what a peculiar expectation it is that human justice should be intrinsic to a God, and still more odd, that human beings need to remind god about it….

…[God] was waiting for her [Job’s wife, or each of us] to issue her challenge. That is what really happens. God does not know how to be just until the children demand it….

She wants the unjustly slain to be alive and for singing and dance to come to the victims.

We already know what she wants. She wants justice to rain down like waters. She wants adjustment, portion to portion, so that the machinery of the world will look seemly and move powerfully and not scrape and scream. The children of God do not really say that God is just. But they invent the idea. They chew it over and over, holding it up to the light this way and that. And though blood drips from the concept, staining their hands, they are persistent. It is their idea. They want justice to rain down like waters. Justice to rain like waters. Justice to rain. Justice to rain.
–Alicia Suskin Ostriker, The Nakedness of the Fathers, p.232, 239, 240. Full citation below**

Ostriker was not writing from an abolitionist perspective or directly addressing the portion Shoftim. But her words point to important work we need to undertake around some basic concepts.

As we move through this period of collapse and consider which tools can still serve, it’s crucial to “take a step back” from many assumptions, in theology and beyond. As we move through Elul toward the new year, we are called to reflect on how our assumptions, and the structures built on them, contribute to harm and what steps we can take to remedy that.

Some History

For either Ostriker’s 1986 “Imagining of Justice” or the 1994 “Meditation on Justice,” a quick history reminder might be in order:

In the 1980s, gender was generally treated as a binary in- and outside of Judaism. Women’s leadership — or even full personhood — was not yet accepted in many parts of the Jewish world, although women were ordained as rabbis in some US movements beginning in the 1970s.

Keshet (For LGBTQ+ equality in Jewish life) was not founded until 1996 and, as their story reports: “Not too long ago, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer Jews were largely invisible in American Jewish life. Marriage equality wasn’t on anyone’s radar — certainly not on the radar of most synagogues and Jewish organizations — and there was not a single gay-straight alliance at a Jewish high school.”

Ostriker’s 1986 statement about being a Jewish woman — “I am and am not a Jew” — made sense across all Jewish movements, at that time, even in the equality-focused Havurah movement. By the time Nakedness of the Fathers was released in 1994, gender equity had advanced in some Jewish spaces; the Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance was still years away, however, and issues of gender and sexuality in Judaism still had (have) a long road ahead throughout Judaism.

Keeping this history in mind adds layers to the call to “take a step back” from assumptions. And Ostriker’s reminder that we have to imagine justice — and how it might relate to the divine — couldn’t be more timely…. it was in 1986 and in 1994 and the countless moments I’ve found myself turning to her words over the decades.

** Full citation: “Job, or a Meditation on Justice,” from Nakedness of the Fathers: Biblical Visions and Revisions. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers, 1994.

Here’s a PDF excerpt — “Job, or a Meditation on Justice”

An earlier version (1986), “Job, Or the Imagining of Justice” — originally in The Iowa Review — is available on Academia.edu.

Author bios at Jewish Women’s Archives and Poetry Foundation

Feature image is largely decorative: The words “Whose tools?” and a two-pan balance.

And So?

Reading the three texts of Shabbat Chazon [Vision] and Tisha B’av together can easily feed a sense of despair:

On this Shabbat of Vision, we stand at the river’s edge, imagining the world on the other side, the one our ancestors were, decades before, led to believe was just around the corner. And yet, as Deuteronomy opens, we are listening to Moses describe all the ways we’ve already disappointed and erred since taking those first tentative steps toward what we hoped would be better days. “How?! How can I bear the trouble/burden [torach] of you?” Moses moans (Deut 1:12; see PDF in previous post).

On this same Shabbat, we are treated to the prophet Isaiah’s speech from across the river, inside that imagined world. He, too, is explaining just how thoroughly we’ve failed, turning vision into a burden even God cannot bear: “[Your rituals] are become a burden [torach] to me…Your hands are full of blood.” (Isaiah 1:14-15). “How?! How did a dream of justice and righteousness become a city of murderers?” (1:21, paraphrased)

With Eikha, that imagined world has collapsed, and we are on the road out of the ruins. “How?! How did what once appeared so vibrant turn into this painful mess?!”

It seems that we’ve been crying, “How?! How did things get this bad?!” for so long that we might as well simply declare that nothing ever changes, that people are just as rotten to one another today as they were in Isaiah’s time or King Josiah’s or at the time of Exile, and our problems have been basically the same for 2700 years.

But we can also understand these three readings — offered to us at the lowest point in the Jewish calendar — as an age-old acknowledgement that there will always be failures, that the better days envisioned will always be ahead, that we are always facing an ending…with, we must hope, a new beginning beyond it.

“Where is the ‘so’?”

In the kinot for Tisha B’av, Chapter 13 offers a series of verses beginning “אֵי כֹּה” [ei ko], translated as “Where is the [ko-based] promise…?” (Sefaria offers the Hebrew for Chapter 13 but no translation.) Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik’s commentary, found in Koren Mesorat HaRav Kinot (Koren, 2010), explains:

In this kina, Rabbi Elazar HaKalir treats the word eikha as though it were a composite word consisting of two separate words, ei and ko, and therefore, the meaning of the word is not “how?!” but rather “where is the ko, the ‘so'”? Where are the promises that God made to the Jewish people using the word ko?
–p.318

The author of the kina is asking, R’ Soloveitchik says, why the promises were not fulfilled, and ultimately God responds: “Do not worry, the ko will be realized; sooner or later there will be no need to ask Eikha” (p. 327).

Maybe, however, we should read “where is the ‘so’?” from another angle: For nearly 3000 years, we’ve been warned that there is blood on our hands and work to be done. And so?

And so: 1) “Cease to do evil.” 2) “Learn to do good.” 3) “Devote yourself [to repair]” and, only then, 4) Atone/seek restoration of relationship.

Rabbi Nachman of Breslov taught: “If you believe that you can destroy, believe that you can repair.” (Meshivat Nefesh #38). We will always mess up, and always be called to keep going.

Vision, Blood, and Learning

UPDATED 8/7/22 evening with note on transliteration and link to epilogue

Three challenging Bible passages come together in the Jewish calendar in the next two days:

Devarim (Deut 1:1-3:12), the first portion in the Book of Deuteronomy (Deut 1:1-3:12);
Isaiah 1:1-27, the prophetic reading which gives this Shabbat it’s special name, “Shabbat of Vision,” or Shabbat Chazon; and
Eikha, the Book of Lamentations, read on Tisha B’av.

In some years, there are several days between Shabbat Chazon and Tisha B’av — offering a chance for us to take the admonitions to heart before entering into the deepest day of mourning the Jewish calendar and then beginning the slow climb toward the new year. Some years, like this one, leave no space between that last Shabbat of Affliction (or Admonition) and Tisha B’av. So we’re about to enter a complicated couple of days.

Historical and Literary Context

A bit of history is useful for viewing the confluence of readings for Shabbat Chazon and Tisha B’av:

Eikha/Lamentations is probably, current scholarship says, from the middle of the 6th Century BCE, although some parts may be older; the book as a whole is traditionally ascribed to the prophet Jeremiah (c. 650-570 BCE).
Jeremiah was active at the time of King Josiah (c.640-609 BCE), from the 13th year of the young king’s reign through Exile and the destruction of the First Temple. Substantial portions of the Book of Deuteronomy are also linked with King Josiah’s era.
The prophet Isaiah lived a century earlier, with the year 733 BCE a prominent date for his vision… which led him to criticize focus on ritual when what is required is tending to those in need:

Your new moons and your appointed seasons My soul hates…
Your hands are full of blood (stained with crime).
…Seek justice, relieve the oppressed….
How [Eikha] is the faithful city…once full of justice,
righteousness lodged in her, but now murderers!
–Isa 1:14-17, 1:21

How?!

That mournful cry, beginning with the word “Eikha” in Isaiah 1:21, is echoed in both Deuteronomy and the book of that name.

For the record, “eikha” appears only the once in Isaiah, four times in Eikha, and five times in Deuteronomy, plus twice in Jeremiah and once each in four other books of Tanakh. (See handout, “Eikha and Chazon,” below).

Isaiah’s vision prompts us to consider any number of collective crimes. The compressed time period of Shabbat followed immediately by the day of mourning makes it difficult to process or respond. But Isaiah doesn’t just leave us with blood on our hands; he suggests a way forward:

Learn to do good.
Devote yourselves to justice;
Aid the wronged.
Uphold the rights of the orphan;
Defend the cause of the widow.
Isaiah 1:17 (see “Isaiah page one” handout, also below)

We can read this message as a simple “do better.” And, of course, that is what we are being told to do. But we must also heed that first commandment: Learn.

For nearly 3000 years, Isaiah has railing at us that we have blood on our hands. And for just as long, the prophet has been telling us that the first step — before trying to undertake the work of justice, provide aid, uphold anyone’s rights, or defend the most vulnerable — is to learn.

We can inform ourselves about the problems and issues. We can listen to the voices of those most affected by crimes in which we have participated, however inadvertently. We can get to know what solutions others are already working to implement. We can learn more about Jewish history, practice, and philosophy to shore up our ability to respond Jewishly — and/or steep ourselves in other traditions that inspire us.

For nearly 3000 years, Jewish tradition has been calling us to do better by learning better.

TRANSLITERATION NOTE: The Hebrew word ” איכה ” is pretty commonly transliterated “eicha” (and this blog often used that spelling in the past); eikha is used here, though, in an effort to make clear the distinction between the chet of “[חזון] chazon” and the khaf of “eikha.”

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PDF Handouts

Handout for Hill Havurah, six-page-PDF includes both “Eicha and Chazon” (5 pages) and “Isaiah page one” (1 page) in one document. Also below: separate pieces.

final-really-revised-handout-for-hill-havurah-aug-6-1 Download

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Eicha and Chazon (five-page-PDF, originally prepared for Temple Micah in 2019 and re-shared with Hill Havurah and Tzedek Chicago in 2022) —

Eicha and Chazon from Vspatz Download

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Isaiah page one — (one-page-PDF) three translations for Isa 1:15-18 and some definitions.

isaiah-page-one-for-hh-5782 Download

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Miriam, Amalek, Memory, and Mouths

This dvar torah is about remembering and how Jewish memory is built with the help of our prayerbooks. Some of what I learned in preparing today’s remarks can be found in this handout.

The end of the handout is the result of the earlier parts of my studies, a brief exploration into Mishkan T’filah and earlier drafts of the siddur, mostly focusing on one pair of pages where we find: “Six Torah episodes are to be remembered each day, to refine our direction.”

The “Six Torah episodes” section can be found on pages 43 and 205 in the actual Mishkan T’filah, on page 12 in the handout, shared here.

In similar passages (more on this later) in other prayer books, “What God did to Miriam” is included here. I turned to older drafts of Mishkan T’filah, hoping they might clue me into why Miriam is not on this page.

Endnote Deadend

An endnote in the published siddur says the Six Torah episodes were “adapted from a Sephardic siddur.” But it doesn’t specify which or say what was adapted. I could find no example anywhere, Ashkenazi or Sephardic, in another siddur which changes the verses so as to omit Miriam, as Mishkan T’filah does. Every other example over the last 1000 years seems to focus on the same six incidents, all of which include a Torah verse demanding that we “remember” and/or “not forget.” Only Mishkan T’filah uses a different list. Only Mishkan T’filah leaves out specific Torah verses. And only Mishkan T’filah adds in Korach — about whom we have no memory admonition in the Torah.

These seem significant differences, and I thought it a little odd that so much changed over the course of the drafts, while this passage remained static through five years or more of edits. (See the handout for some notes on changes that did occur over the drafts.) No one I asked — including some Temple Micah clergy, current and past, and other people I thought might know — had an explanation. Rabbi Gerry Serotta, who served as interim rabbi some years ago, sent a query on my behalf to the siddur’s chief editor, Rabbi Elyse Frishman, and to Rabbi David Ellenson. If we hear back, I’ll let you know.

Improvement by Removal?

Meanwhile, Rabbi Gerry and I guessed that removing Miriam had been an attempt to respond to feminist criticism about how Miriam is usually remembered: 1) focusing on her case of tzaraat, a skin condition, rather than on anything she actually did or who she was; 2) remembering “What God did to Miriam” in a way that accuses her of lashon hara [evil speech], although that is unclear in the text; and 3) blames Miriam alone, while the text clearly states that both Aaron and Miriam spoke against Moses (Numbers 12:1ff).

If it’s true that the change was made due to feminist sensibilities, it seems ironic — and oddly instructive — that, as a result, Miriam is… just gone.

Acquiring Memory

In my travels through older prayerbook drafts, I was intrigued by the adage, attributed to David Ellenson: “Acquire the memory of what it means to be a Jew.”

This prompted me to wonder:

What did the siddur editors want us to remember with this set of episodes?
What does it mean that Miriam is not on the page?
What would it mean if she were there?
What does it mean that Mishkan T’filah made this change without explanation?
Would the passage land differently, had an explanation been included?

From there I followed many other branches of wondering, more generally, about how memory, and Jewish identity, are formed by our practice and our prayerbooks. That brings me to older material I found relating to the Six Remembrances.

On page three of the handout is a Talmudic source arguing why the verb “remember” should be understood to mean “repeat it with your mouth.” The link between speech and remembering is an old one in Jewish thought. The passage from Sifra discusses four of the verses in the Six or Ten Remembrances.

In addition to these four, the Exodus and the Revelation at Mount Sinai are included. Here, page 6 of handout, is a typical example of how the Six Remembrances appear in contemporary prayerbooks —

Intentions and Remembering

In addition to Mishkan T’filah’s “to refine our direction,” other intentions introduce these remembrances: from a simple “some say,” to “for the sake of unification of the divine name…” and “those who recite these are assured a place in the world to come.” (See page 2 of the handout for these various intentions and page 6 for details of how the Six and Remembrances and the “Six Torah episodes” differ.)

The Sifra passage also includes an expression that really caught my attention — the idea of “heart-forgetfulness,” apparently something that can be fixed with thought, while speech is required in other cases…..

This might be a good thing to keep in mind during Elul, thinking about what can be repaired by thought and memory and what requires speaking aloud.

Back to Miriam

Now, back to Miriam, who is not on the Mishkan T’filah pages but IS in this week’s Torah portion (now last week’s, Ki Teitzei, Deut. 21:10 – 25:19 — pages 7 and 8 of the handout). Deuteronomy 24:9 is one of only 12 times her name appears in the Torah.

Rabbinic imagination saw Miriam’s Well in the white space between her death and the lack of water in the next verse. And many other stories and lessons surround Miriam. But she appears in four incidents in the Torah — named three times and “his sister” in another — and is mentioned twice more. That’s it. That’s all she wrote about Miriam.

There is a lot of commentary about the two verses in this week’s portion– the one telling the listener to heed the priests in matters of tzaraat (Deut 24:8) and the following one telling us to remember what God did to Miriam.

What God did to Miriam is related in Numbers 12. The demand that we remember what God did to Miriam is usually understood as a warning to guard the tongue, due to links in commentary between tzaraat and sins of the tongue. But it’s crucial to note that there is no direct link — either in this week’s portion or in Numbers 12 or elsewhere in Torah text — between Miriam and evil speech.

What and How We Remember

The story in Numbers 12 is full of obscure imagery, and Miriam’s tzaraat is the same condition Moses experienced at the Burning Bush, where it was part of his recognition as a prophet, and not understood as punishment at all. Early Jewish teachers chose to make Miriam an object lesson rather than following another set of interpretations with a different set of lessons.

None of the other Six or Ten Remembrances involve an individual, so — regardless of initial intention — Jewish thought and law were greatly influenced by the linkage that developed between Miriam, and women in general, and evil speech.

But, is that a good reason to remove the text from recitation?
Does that facilitate forgetting of a helpful kind?
What is gained and what is lost in removing a passage with difficult associations?
Might it be better to keep it in and work to understand and re-interpret?

Theologian Judith Plaskow discusses this in a piece on this week’s portion, “Tzaraat and Memory.” I highly recommend reading the whole thing — either in The Torah: A Women’s Commentary, in print, or on My Jewish Learning.

Writing in 2008, Plaskow raises the issue of how progress can actually be a challenge to memory and to further progress. I’ll add that her conclusion can also apply to the appearance of progress, as when a problematic text is removed from regular recitation or consideration, or when we make changes that don’t always benefit the most harmed or vulnerable.

She writes, referencing the other important “memory” verses in this week’s portion:

We blot out the memory of Amalek when we create Jewish communities in which the perpetual exclusion of some group of people — or the denial of women’s rights — are so contrary to current values as to be almost incredible. Yet, if we are to safeguard our achievements, we can also never forget to remember the history of inequality and the decisions and struggles that have made more equitable communities possible.

What We Remember, What We Fix

I’ve been watching a series of mysteries focusing on women in the mid-1960s. (For fellow mystery fans: Ms. Fisher’s Modern Murder Mysteries, set in 1964-65 Melbourne, Australia, a delightful set of sequels to Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, set in the same area in the late 1920s.) And I’ve noticed that I am remembering, quite viscerally, how it FELT, as a girl and young woman, to have limited rights, opportunities, and expectations. And also of how dangerous it could be back then, in physical, legal, and psychic ways, for women and also for queer people and for many others….And I’m on the young side for these experiences; others have longer histories with inequality.

This exploration also reminded me of, on the one hand, how grateful I was to have to explain such things to our children as they were growing up. So many conversations that centered around: Queer people were forbidden from expressing their identity or acting on their sexuality, let alone getting married?! Women weren’t allowed to what?! US law defined whiteness as property and prevented Black people from what?!

On the other hand, I remember the desire to let them go on asking questions like “Do you have to be a mommy to lead services?” without ever realizing how impossible that question would have been in my youth and how painful it was for all of us who didn’t see ourselves reflected in leadership roles…or at all.

There is a strong tension between wanting to build a world with more equity and inclusivity, on the one hand, and the responsibility to never forget that we are sitting in a place built by damage; with many wounds still present, often unhealed, and so much work still to do. Continuing to REMEMBER, and recite, difficult passages can cause harm. But failing to remember carries it’s own risk.

The same applies in many ways to teshuva: When might it be appropriate to forget or not mention old harm, and when must we work to remember and confront? In other words, maybe, when are we dealing with heart-forgetfulness and when with something that requires us to use our mouths?

As I tried to figure out what happened with Miriam and the Six Torah episodes, I kept remembering these lines, from a song about memory and loss —

If you hear that same sweet song again,
will you know why?

— “Bird Song,” by Robert Hunter (1941-2019) & Jerry Garcia, z”l (1942-1995)
first performed Feb 19, 1971. “for Janis [Janis Joplin (1943-1970)]”

How much do we lose, and what do we gain, when we forget to remember why we chose to remember or forget?

This dvar Torah was originally prepared, and offered in a slightly different form, for Temple Micah (DC), 5781.

Handout in PDF and text versions

Ki Teitzei Handout (PDF)Download

Full text version of handout for anyone who cannot easily do graphics is posted here.

Fugitive Slave Act and Deuteronomy

You shall not turn over to his master a slave who seeks refuge with you from his master.
He shall live with you in any place he may choose among the settlements in your midst, wherever he pleases; you must not ill-treat him.
לֹא-תַסְגִּיר עֶבֶד, אֶל-אֲדֹנָיו, אֲשֶׁר-יִנָּצֵל אֵלֶיךָ, מֵעִם אֲדֹנָיו.
עִמְּךָ יֵשֵׁב בְּקִרְבְּךָ, בַּמָּקוֹם אֲשֶׁר-יִבְחַר בְּאַחַד שְׁעָרֶיךָ–בַּטּוֹב לוֹ; לֹא, תּוֹנֶנּוּ.
— Deuteronomy 23:16-17 (Christian Bible number differs here*)

…any person who shall knowingly and willingly obstruct, hinder, or prevent such claimant, his agent or attorney, or any person or persons lawfully assisting him, her, or them, from arresting such a fugitive from service or labor, . . . or shall harbor or conceal such fugitive, . . . shall be subject to a fine not exceeding one thousand dollars, and imprisonment not exceeding six months….
–Fugitive Slave Law of 1850 (full text scroll down to “AN ACT TO AMEND…’An Act Respecting Fugitives from Justice…'”; see also Zinn Education Project)

September 18 marked the signing into law of the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850, requiring the capture and return of people who had escaped from slavery. This law meant additional danger for people who had escaped from slavery, as well as for free black people who were often misidentified, sometimes deliberately, as escapees. It also endangered those who had been aiding enslaved persons escaping to free states. Many historians note, however, that this law made it harder for people in Free States to remain “neutral” or silent in the face of mass, state-sanctioned enslavement. Forcing more citizens to recognize their complicity helped precipitate the Civil War and a formal end to legal slavery in the U.S.

Meanwhile, the Jewish calendar just prompted reading of Deut. 23:16-17 last week (Parashat Ki Teitzei, 9/14/19). So this seems a good time to reflect on these verses and what they teach about our history and our future.

Scripture and Fugitive Slaves

In opposition to the Fugitive Slave Laws, Christian abolitionists regularly referenced the verses in Deuteronomy forbidding the return to slavery of someone who had escaped (a few citations).

Pro-slavery Christians argued, to the contrary: “…the immorality attributed to the fugitive slave law resolves itself into the assumed immorality of slaveholding. No man would object to restoring an apprentice to his master;…” (see Cotton is King cited below).

Some 19th Century Christians interpreted the “fugitive slave” scriptures as referencing very limited circumstances inapplicable to then-contemporary situations. Their arguments, even when sources are not cited, suggest familiarity with traditional Jewish commentary on these verses. Many Jewish teachings, from ancient times to the present, support humane treatment of all people, call on Jews to “remember you were once slaves in Egypt,” and were interpreted in ways supportive of Abolition. These particular verses, however, appear to have been interpreted in very narrow ways, none of which would be helpful to an abolitionist.

A brief review of Jewish discourse before and during the U.S. Civil War — see, e.g., this Yeshiva University site and these brief related video histories — finds that Jews in the public sphere focused on universal human rights, rather than arguing scripture with the Christian majorities.

Jews in the Public Sphere

It is worth noting, in the context of how Jews spoke publicly, that what is now considered “American Judaism” — or, perhaps more accurately: American Judaisms — did not yet exist at the close of the Civil War. There were no major Jewish organizations in the United States until the latter part of the 19th Century:

the Union of American Hebrew Congregations (now the Union for Reform Judaism) was founded in 1873, and the Central Conference of American Rabbis in 1889;
the (Conservative) Jewish Theological Seminary was established in 1886 and the associated Rabbinical Assembly in 1901; and
the Orthodox Union was founded in 1898;

Other organizations, such as the immigrant aid society (HIAS), were founded decades after the Civil War was over. Most organizations that help create a public Jewish voice are far newer. The time seems overdue, however, for gathering collective Jewish energies, beginning with sacred text and its interpretations, to consider current implications of Deut 23:16-17:

Does Deut 23:16 have implications regarding policing today?
What might Deut 23:17 mean for Reparations?

We’ve got text to study and work to do…

NOTE:
*Deuteronomy Chapter 22 has 29 verses in the Hebrew Bible, while Christian bibles have 30 verses. As a result, the same verses that Jews identify as Deut 23:16-17 are numbered 23:15-16 in Christian bibles.

Here is Fox’s translation, known for its attempt to reproduce rhythm and word-choices of the Hebrew original, to aid in discussion:

16) You are not to hand over a serf to his lord
who has sought-rescue by you from his lord.
17) Beside you let him dwell, among you,
in the place that he chooses, within one of your gates (that)
seems good for him;
you are not to maltreat him!

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Some Christian References

1836. Extracts from remarks on Dr. Channing’s Slavery, with comments, by an abolitionist. Boston. Published D.K. Hitchcock 1836 (available through archive.org). More on Channing’s Slavery by William Ellery Channing (1780-1842).

1850. “A sermon on Moses’ fugitive slave bill” William Makepeace Thayer (1820-1898). Sermon.

1851. “The Duty of Disobedience to Wicked Laws: A Sermon on the Fugitive Slave Law” by Charles Beecher. Newark, NJ. (free ebook).

1855. Letter from Anthony Burns to the Baptist Church

1859. The Sin of Sending Back Fugitives from Slavery. The Oberlin Evangelist

And: Black Prophets of Justice: Activist Clergy Before the Civil War
By David E. Swift (Louisiana State Univ Press, 1989).

BUT ALSO: 1860. Cotton is King and Pro-Slavery Arguments; comprising the writings of Hammond, Harper, Christy, Stringfellow, Hodge, Bledsoe, and Cartwright, on this important subject, by E. N. Elliott… (free ebook)

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Jewish Commentary

When the Talmud (compiled by around 500 CE, including many far older traditions) discusses Deut 23:16, one interpretation is that the verse is speaking of someone who buys a slave in order to emancipate them; another is that it refers to a slave who escaped from outside the Land and sought refuge in Eretz Yisrael (Yeb 93b and Gittin 45a). Elaborations over the centuries add the assumption that the latter is meant to keep someone who sough refuge from a heath environment from being returned there.

Another thread of commentary suggests that, given the surrounding context in Deuteronomy, the verses originally referenced war-time, when slaves might use the confusion to escape (e.g., Chizkuni, 13th Century CE).

Ramban (Nahmanides), 1194-1270 Spain, combines above interpretations and then adds both a “moral” and a “practical” sense:

An escaped slave. During a siege of an enemy city, it is common for slaves and prisoners to try and escape to the “liberators.” The Torah commands Israel that such escapees must be give their freedom and permitted to settle wherever they wish in Eretz Yisrael. In the moral sense, for the nation that maintains the holiness of its camp — as required by the above passage — to send a man seeking his freedom back to a life of idolatry would be most unseemly. In the practical sense, people seeking asylum often become important allies of the invaders, because they reveal valuable information that will help in the conquest.

The only responsa on the fugitive slave law which I could find is actually the Reform Movement arguing that Deut. 23:16-17 “permits the reception of proselytes.” American Reform Responsa: Collected Responsa of the Central Conference of American Rabbis 1889-1893.
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Gathering Sources: Nitzavim

Sources for exploring the Torah portion, Nitzavim, Deut 29:9-30:20 — also spelled Nitsavim and Netzavim, sometimes Nitzabim or Nesabim. Nitzavim is next read in the Diaspora beginning with minchah September 21, through Shabbat September 28.

This is part of a series of weekly “gathering sources” posts, collecting previous material on the weekly Torah portion, most originally part of a 2010 series called “Opening the Book.”

Great Sources: Choice Gifts
Something to Notice: There and Not
Language and Translation: Niphleiot
A Path to Follow: To Turn

See Also:
You are ALL Standing with Ariel Samson: Freelance Rabbi &Co

Gathering Sources: Ki Tavo

Some resources for exploring the Torah portion Ki Tavo (Deut 26:1-29:8) — also sometimes spelled Ki Thavo, Ki Tabo, Ki Thabo, or Ki Savo. Next read in the Diaspora beginning with minchah on September 14, through Shabbat September 21.

This is part of a series of weekly “gathering sources” posts, collecting previous material on the weekly Torah portion, most originally part of a 2010 series called “Opening the Book.”

Great Sources: Garments in the wilderness
Language and Translation: Removed, Cleared Out, Rooted Out
Something to Notice: First Fruits
A Path to Follow: Arami Oved

See also:
Prayer Links: Hearts, Eyes, Ears

Photo by Manuela Kohl on Pexels.com

Gathering Sources: Shoftim

Some resources for exploring the Torah portion Shoftim, Deuteronomy 16:18-21:9. (Sometimes spelled Shof’tim or Shofetim.) Next read in the Diaspora beginning with minchah on August 31, through Shabbat September 7.

This is part of a series of weekly “gathering sources” posts, collecting previous material on the weekly Torah portion, most originally part of a 2010 series called “Opening the Book”:

Something to Notice: You must not go back that way
A Path to Follow: Wanton Destruction
Great Source(s): Duties of the Heart
Language and Translation: Whole-Hearted

Gathering Sources: Re’eh

Some resources for exploring the Torah portion Re’eh, Deut 11:26-16:17– (Wikipedia says this is also spelled: Reeh, R’eih, or Ree). This is part of a series of weekly “gathering sources” posts, collecting previous material on the weekly Torah portion, most originally part of a 2010 series called “Opening the Book.” Re’eh is next read in the Diaspora beginning with minchah, August 24 and continuing through Shabbat August 31.

Something to Notice: Protecting Us from Ourselves
A Path to Follow: The Three Weeks and the Seven
Language and Translation: Knowing
Great Source(s): Walking behind the Presence

See also: Awaiting the Harvests: Prayer Links for Re’eh
Learning to See — Opportunity Maps (August 20, 2017)

Gathering Sources: Ki Teitzei

Resources for exploring the Torah Portion, Ki Teitzei, Deuteronomy 21:10–25:19. This portion — which is also spelled (per Wikipedia, although some of these seem rare): Ki Tetse, Ki Thetze, Ki Tese, Ki Tetzey, Ki Seitzei — is next read in the Diaspora beginning with minchah, September 7 through Shabbat September 14. (Yes, still a few weeks away and out of order: Re’eh and Shoftim coming soon.)

This post is part of a series of weekly “gathering sources” posts, collecting previous material on the weekly Torah portion, most originally part of a 2010 series called “Opening the Book.”

Language and Translation: Not Indifferent
A Path to Follow: Bird’s Nest and “The Other”
Great Sources: One-Sided Memory
Something to Notice: Gershwin Haftarah

See also: Ki Teitzei Prayer Links: Remember
Remember Miriam: Process and Patience
Ki Teitzei: Productive Erasing