By Wendy Lefko Messeloff
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This week, Am Yisrael is grieving anew. The return of four more hostages, lifeless and brutalized, is another unbearable reminder of the price we have paid, the pain that has not ceased, and the deep responsibility we bear for one another. At moments like this, we cry out: How do we move forward? How do we transform grief into purpose?
The Torah’s answer can be found in Parshat Mishpatim.
Last week’s Parshat Yitro brought us to one of the most awe-inspiring moments in Jewish history — Matan Torah, the giving of the Ten Commandments at Har Sinai. God’s voice thundered, the mountain trembled, and the Jewish people stood in direct encounter with the Divine. It was a moment of majesty and grandeur, a universal, cosmic experience that defined the essence of our faith.
So what does the Torah do this week for an encore? Instead of more miracles and revelation, Parshat Mishpatim plunges us into a sea of laws — 53 mitzvot, delivered in rapid succession, covering civil disputes, ethical obligations, and communal responsibilities. Gone are the dramatic voices from heaven; instead, we are given a practical roadmap for daily life. Why this sudden shift? Why does the Torah follow the most transcendent moment in Jewish history with a barrage of laws about property damage, fair wages, and how to treat the vulnerable?
The swift transition from grand revelation to detailed laws may feel jarring, but Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, z”l, saw it as essential. He wrote that freedom without structure is chaos. The Israelites had just emerged from slavery, and while they had experienced miracles, miracles alone do not build a nation. Justice does. Responsibility does. The commitment to moral law does. Mishpatim is the blueprint for turning a group of freed slaves into a nation of ethical responsibility.
Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch similarly explains that true holiness is not found in miracles, but in how we live, how we bring holiness into mundane everyday life. Sinai was not meant to be a singular, untouchable event; its purpose was to transform us. Faith is not measured by how deeply we are moved in a moment of revelation, but by how we bring Torah into the realities of life — especially when those realities are painful and complex. The real work of Torah happens not in the heavens, but on the battlefield, in the marketplace, the courtroom, the home.
This also helps to explain why these specific mitzvot appear here. They are not abstract theological principles, but practical laws that govern human relationships: how to treat servants; the prohibition against harming converts, widows, and orphans; laws of damages; financial fairness, and truth in judgment. These laws tell us that Torah is not meant to remain in the realm of the spiritual — it must shape every aspect of our lives.
A particularly striking aspect of Mishpatim is its emphasis on protections for marginalized and vulnerable members of society. The Torah repeatedly commands the fair treatment of the ger (convert), the yatom (orphan), and the almana (widow) (Shemot 22:20-21), illustrating that the moral standing of a society is measured by its commitment to justice and inclusivity. Rabbanit Dr. Yael Ziegler highlights that these legal structures do not merely seek to prevent harm, but to actively ensure that every individual, regardless of status, has access to justice and dignity. At Sinai, we committed to being God’s people. In Mishpatim, we learn that being God’s people means defending the weak, pursuing justice, and acting with integrity. Holiness is not just in the heavens — it is in how we conduct business, how we care for the vulnerable, and how we treat one another.
This focus extends to the role of women in shaping an equitable society. The Torah’s legal corpus in Mishpatim introduces protections that, in their historical context, granted women rights and legal standing that were unparalleled in many ancient civilizations. For instance, laws regarding fair treatment of female servants (Shemot 21:7-11), protections for wives in marriage, and prohibitions against mistreating widows collectively demonstrate a shift toward recognizing women’s agency and security within the legal framework of the nation.
Rabbanit Esti Rosenberg notes that beyond these legal protections, Jewish law and tradition emphasize that women play a pivotal role in ensuring the ethical foundation of the community. The practical enactment of Torah principles — ranging from economic fairness to interpersonal ethics — has historically been influenced by women’s leadership within family and communal structures. Thus, ensuring that women have opportunities to participate in legal, social, and religious life is not merely a matter of fairness, but a necessary element for maintaining a vibrant and morally just society. The Torah’s vision for justice is incomplete without the full participation of women in building a society that embodies the values of Mishpatim — kindness, integrity, accountability.
Rabbi Sacks, z”l, expands on this, arguing that a society rooted in Torah cannot thrive if half of its population is denied opportunities to contribute to its ethical and intellectual development. Mishpatim is teaching us that justice is not abstract — it is about real people, real lives, real responsibilities. Within this framework, the Torah’s emphasis on justice, education, and communal responsibility implicitly demands that both men and women be engaged in the pursuit of societal righteousness.
This is the Torah’s real encore: a shift from divine revelation to human responsibility. The moment at Sinai was breathtaking, but the Torah teaches that it was just the beginning: what follows the revelation — how we build a just society — is even more important than the revelation itself. It is through the application of law, the protection of the vulnerable, and the full participation of all individuals in shaping a just and ethical community that Torah becomes a living force.
This week’s parsha shifts the focus away from the towering figures of Moshe and Aharon and, for the first time, places the spotlight on all of us. As Rabbanit Sharon Rimon points out, Mishpatim teaches that every individual is responsible for upholding justice. The laws are directed not just at leaders, but at the people, because a just society is not built by the few, but by the daily actions of an entire nation.
And for this to be fully realized, women must be afforded the rights, protections, and opportunities necessary to play their essential role in shaping a society that embodies the Torah’s values. Mishpatim teaches that holiness is not confined to the heavens; it is found in how we construct a world that is just, inclusive, and equitable for all.
In this moment, as we mourn with the Bibas and Lifschitz families, and carry the pain of all the hostages and their families along with the countless soldiers and civilians we have lost, we face an eternal question of Jewish history that never stops haunting us: How do we go on? Parshat Mishpatim’s answer is clear: We do not live by miracles alone. We live by justice, by responsibility, and by our commitment to each other. We do not forget the pain of our people. We do not turn away from suffering. We build. We seek justice. Instead of letting grief turn into despair, we turn it into action.
In this moment, the majesty of Misphatim feels more urgent than ever. It reminds us that the real work of holiness happens not on the mountaintop, but in the way we build a society that both honors the living and remembers the dead, with justice, dignity, and humanity.
May the memory of each person we have lost be a blessing. And may we honor them by ensuring that we, as a people, continue to live by the justice and righteousness that define us.
Shabbat Shalom ~ Besorot Tovot ~ Am Yisrael Chai