Light That Can't Be Extinguished
The first word of our parsha, is the connecting word ואלה, “and these.” It seems to clearly connect our parsha with the end of last week’s parsha. However, last week’s parsha ended with the spiritual high of Matan Torah, and this week’s parsha doesn’t seem connected at all. Parshat Mishpatim opens with the detailed case of the eved ivri, a Jew who is sold into slavery by Beit Din in order to pay back the value of items he had stolen. He is given his freedom in the shmita (7th) year, or if he chooses to stay after the shmita year, he attains his freedom in the Yovel (50th) year.
Despite the seeming disconnect, Ramban assures us that there is a very deep connection between the mishpatim given in this parsha and the Ten Commandments of last week’s parsha. More specifically, there is a connection between the halachot of the eved ivri and the first command, “I am Hashem your G-d who took you out of Egypt.” The midrash expresses the connection as follows: the dibbrot are the Torah of the morning while the mishpatim are the Torah of the evening. (See Shemot Rabbah 30:11).”
The giving of the Torah on Har Sinai was called morning because it was a time of intense clarity which was so strong, it changed our reality. Hashem does not use a language of command when He tells us, “I am Hashem, Your G-d, who took you out of Egypt.” There was no need. We heard the words directly from Hashem and we lived them. They were, in fact, the final component of our Yetziat Mitzrayim. The GRA explains that Yetziat Mitzrayim is mentioned fifty times in the Torah, because we left Mitzrayim fifty times. Each day from the time we physically left Mitzrayim we left another level of tumah behind us. When we stood at Har Sinai we had reached the highest level of taharah. As Hashem spoke to us, we experienced the reality that Hashem is the only power in the world. The result of that clarity was immediate freedom from being in service to anything or anyone else in the world.
In that state of purity there was no need for the mishpatim. Our bodies naturally did the mitzvot. Not only was there no robbery, our possessions were affected by our kedusha to such an extent that they did no harm to others. However, we did not stay on Har Sinai forever. When the revelation was over and evening fell, there was a need for the light of the Torah to be clothed in such a way that it could apply in the darkness. And that is exactly what the mishpatim are. They contain the same light as the light of the Ten Commandments, but the light is compressed and clothed in a different form, so that we can continue to access it from a different place. We described this phenomenon last week. At Matan Torah the light of the Torah that exists in shamayim as black fire on white fire was compressed and clothed into the words of the Torah, so that we could understand it in our world.
The mitzvah of eved ivri is a mirroring of the first of the Ten Commandments, “I am Hashem, Your G-d.” It is what the revelation of “Anochi” looks like from a place of darkness. Think for a moment about the mindset of a thief. A thief is willing to steal because he assumes that no one is watching. That “no one” includes Hashem. He has therefore, with his actions, denied that Hashem is in control and denies Hashem as his master. Middah knegged middah, Hashem punishes him by giving him another master.
However, an eved ivri does not remain a slave forever. The kedusha of the first of the ten commandments, the recognition that it is Hashem, and only Hashem, who is our master, remains imprinted in our hearts. “I am Hashem Your G-d” cannot be uprooted. This is why the eved ivri is meant to go free in the seventh year. The Maharal explains that the purpose of the slavery is to repair the damage the thief did through his averot. However, averot only damage us to a certain point. There is always a point at our center that remains connected to “I am Hashem.” The six years of slavery correspond to the six directions of the external world. They correspond to the aspect of ourselves we are able to corrupt with our sins. However, the six directions are connected by a single, internal point. (You can imagine this as the point around which a cube is drawn) That point, which corresponds to our internal aspect of self, and our inner connection to Hashem, cannot be destroyed. It cannot be enslaved. When a person reaches that level, the seventh level, he reaches his freedom. Even if he is so attached to his illusions and delusions that he refuses to go free in the seventh year, the kedusha of “I am Hashem Your G-d” continues to accompany him, all the way to the very deepest level of tumah, the 50th level, and from there, in the Yovel year, it brings him out.
Our parsha, which begins with the mishpatim, has an interesting structure. The end of the parsha returns to Har Sinai. It’s almost as if our parsha follows the order of a day: “it was evening and it was morning, one day.” We experience the darkness, the evening, first. But the evening always leads to the morning. They are both part of the same day. The mishpatim and the aseret hadibrot are the same light, just clothed differently. The avodah changes, but the connection remains the same. As Rashi tells us at the beginning of this parsha, “Just as the first are from Sinai, so are these from Sinai.” And as David Hamelech tells us, “If I ascend to the heavens, there You are, and if I make my bed in the grave, behold, You are there (Tehillim 139:8).” Hashem remains with us, connected to us as our G-d, wherever we are, even in the greatest darkness. We never lose our connection to Him.