LEV703 We can all imagine that if we were unfairly imprisoned, how much we would want people to speak out, exert pressure, and offer money on our behalf; therefore, this verse obligates us to do the same for others.

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LEV770 Biblical Commandments are to be observed whenever the opportunity presents itself. Thus, when an elderly person walks by, we are expected to rise (Leviticus 19:32), but we are not required to go in search of old people to show respect. However, the commandment to practice justice is different: (Justice, justice, you shall pursue” [Deuteronomy 16:20) ordains the Torah. “Pursue” suggest that not only are we obligated to act justly when we can, but we must also seek ways to ensure that justice prevails (such as if we hear of someone who has been unjustly treated and are – or might be – in a position to help).

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LEV800 This [verse] exhorts Jews to love non-Jews who live among them in peace. [Later, during the time of the Talmud, ger came to mean, and still does, a convert to Judaism, and many Jews therefore assume that the loving legislation in the Torah concerning the ger refers to converts to Judaism. But the context in which the Bible commands a fair and loving treatment of a ger -- often followed with the phrase "you were strangers (gerim) in the land of Egypt" (see, for example, [this and preceding verses] -- makes it clear that the reference is to equitable treatment of non-Israelites residing among Israelites. Otherwise, the verse's only possible meaning would be, "and you shall love the convert for you were converts in the land of Egypt," which suggests that the Israelites in Egypt had embraced the idolatrous religion of their masters. Rather, what the Torah was telling the Israelites is, in effect: "Treat the stranger well, for you were strangers in Egypt, and understand how hard it is to be a stranger, because you know from your own experience how badly you were treated." This recurrent biblical teaching," for you were strangers in the land of Egypt" (see also Exodus 22:20, Exodus 23:9, Deuteronomy 10:19; see page 287) seems to serve as an early adumbration of Hillel's first-century B.C.E. summary of Judaism's essence: "What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor" (Shabbat 31a; see A Code of Jewish Ethics, Volume 1: You Shall Be Holy, pages 10 – 11)]. Unlike the English word "stranger," which is etymologically related to "strange" and thus has a somewhat pejorative connotation, ger derives from a root meaning "to dwell among," and has a positive connotation more suggestive of residents. In addition to commanding the Israelites to love the stranger, God later and explicitly identifies Himself as One who "loves the stranger" (ve-ohev ger); Deuteronomy 10:18): "Martin Buber… noted that there is no other case of a class or persons with whom God is identified as their lover." (Ernst Simon, "The Neighbor Whom We Shall Love," In Fox, Modern Jewish Ethics, 33).

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LEV824 Is it ever just to regard family members as responsible for the sins of another family member? Yes, but only if the family members do nothing to stop their relative, and perhaps even profit from that person's wrongdoing. The relatives share in the culpability, certainly morally, even if not legally. The Talmud teaches: "In a family where there is a tax collector [this was written during a period when Judaea was under Roman rule, and tax collectors extorted funds], all are [regarded as] tax collectors; a robber, all are robbers, because they protect him [and do not protest his deeds]" (Shevuot 39a). [In a similar manner, the Torah imposes a death sentence on one who offers his child as a sacrifice to Molech, and then says: "and if the people of the land should shut their eyes to that man when he gives of his offspring to Molech... I myself will set My face against that man and his kin…" [this and verses 2-5] The Talmud presumes that family members of tax collectors know the source of their family income, and if--once they reach maturity-- they continue to live off stolen funds, they are morally culpable. Obviously, if they truly don't know the source of the ill-gotten gains, they are not guilty. And what about the parents? Should they ever be held responsible for the crimes and misdeeds of their children? [Jewish law assumes that parents bear moral responsibility for the behavior of their minor children. That is why when the child becomes Bar Mitzvah and assumes adult responsibilities, the parents recite an unusual blessing: "Praised be He who has released me from responsibility for this one's misdeeds" (Shulchan Arukh, Orakh Chayyim 225:2). Jews thank God that their children have reached the age at which they are accountable for their own actions, a powerful illustration of how Judaism celebrates responsibility and free will.] This issue ... would seem to hinge on the parents' ability to affect their children's behavior...

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LEV866 An important--perhaps the most important--consolation the Jewish tradition offers mourners is its belief in an afterlife. Hence, the advice recorded in the Talmud: "Weep for the mourners and not for their loss, for [the deceased] has gone to eternal rest, but we [the mourners] are suffering" (Mo'ed Kattan 25b). The traditional Jewish belief is that the soul survives and remains aware of those left behind. Many Jews are under the misconception that Judaism does not believe in an afterlife and are heartened to learn that it does. [I believe there is a connection between the Torah's non-discussion of an afterlife and the fact that the Torah was revealed after the long Jewish sojourn in Egypt. Egyptian society in which the ancient Israelites long resided was obsessed with death and afterlife, as reflected in the holiest of Egyptian literary works, The Book of The Dead. The major achievement of many Pharaohs was the erection of pyramids, which were giant tombs. In contrast, the Torah focuses on this world, so much so that it forbids Judaism's kohanim (priests) from having contact with dead bodies [this verse; in Egypt, the priests helped prepare the body for internment). Thus, the Torah may well have been silent about afterlife out of its desire to ensure the Judaism not evolve in the direction of Egyptian religion. Throughout history, religions that have assigned a major, and perhaps exaggerated, role to the afterlife often have permitted other religious and ethical values to become distorted. Thus, it was belief in an afterlife that motivated the Spanish Inquisition to torture innocent human beings; the inquisitors believed it was morally right to torture people for a few days in this world until they repudiated their supposedly heresies and excepted Christ, and thereby save them from the internal torment of hell. In our own times, the strong belief of afterlife among Islamic terrorists enabled them to kill themselves while murdering innocent people--mainly non-Muslims--with whom they disagree. Thus, the nineteen Islamic terrorists who murdered 3,000 people on September 11, 2001 were convinced that after crashing their planes into the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, they would immediately be granted heavenly reward. How much less evil might they--and, centuries earlier, the inquisitors--have done had they not believed in an afterlife.] Helping the mourner--if he is open to such a belief--to focus on the continuing existence of the soul of the one who died can help assuage his or her hurt and anger.

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LEV890 … Maimonides understands [this verse] "as a precautionary measure in order to avoid slaughtering the young animal in front of its mother. For there is no difference between the pain of humans and the pain of other animals in this case, for the love of a mother and her compassion upon a child does not depend on the intellect, but rather upon the power of emotion, which is found with most animals, just as it is found in man" (The Guide for the Perplexed 3:48). [A friend of mine, a jogger, notes that the surest way to be attacked by an animal of any size is to threaten, or even approach, its young: "When, while running, I am inexplicably attacked by a bird, it means that I have inadvertently stumbled across its nesting grounds."

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LEV947 As one of the Torah's most famous laws, "an eye for an eye" is often cited by critics of "Old Testament morality" as reflecting a barbaric standard of behavior. In the New Testament, Jesus is cited as teaching, "You have learnt how it was said, 'an eye for an eye, a tooth for tooth.' But I say this to you: offer the wicked man no resistance. On the contrary, if anyone hits you on the right cheek, offer him the other as well" (Matthew 5:38 – 39). Although "an eye for an eye" does mandate punishing a person who maims another (Jewish law did not enforce this verse literally; see next paragraph) what is infrequently noted is that it limits the retribution which can be taken. For example, "an eye for an eye" forbids taking two eyes for a eye, even though people who avenge themselves on another often exact a far worse vengeance then the suffering that was inflicted upon them. Although one can, I believe, make a moral argument as to why people who intentionally--as opposed to accidentally--blind another deserve to lose their own right to go on seeing, Jewish law has always ruled that courts should not blind those who deprive others of their sight; rather, offenders must make financial compensation--the sum to be determined by the court--to their victims. The Rabbis believed that punishment be commensurate with the crime, but not exceed it: "Now if you assume that actual retaliation is intended, it could sometimes happen that both life and eye would be taken [in payment for the eye] as, for instance, if the offender died as he was being blinded" (Bava Kamma 84a). Thus, even though the language of the biblical verse seems definitive, the Rabbis understood it as meaning that on moral grounds, someone who intentionally blinds another deserves to lose his sight. But the court exacts only financial compensation, lest it commit the greater injustice of killing the offender while blinding him." An eye for an eye," therefore, establishes two biblical principles of justice: Evil must be punished, [this is the opposite of Jesus's teaching to "offer the wicked man no resistance." Oddly enough, while Jesus would seem to be forgiving of one who maliciously blinds another, he seems, at least according to another New Testament passage, quite unforgiving of those who refuse to accept him as their teacher: "But the one who disowns me in the presence of men, I will disown in the presence of my Father in heaven" (Matthew 10:33). Thus, while advocating that those who maim others should not be punished (a standard that has had no impact on legislation in Christian societies), Jesus rejects people who reject him, an attitude suspiciously similar to "an eye for an eye."] but punishment must be proportionate to, and not exceed, the offense.

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LEV1036 The Talmud presents the following hypothetical case: "Two man are traveling together [in the desert], and one has a pitcher of water. If they share the water, both will die, but if any one drinks, he can reach civilization [and survive]. Ben Petura taught, 'It is better that both should drink and die, rather than one of them look on while his comrade dies.' But Rabbi Akiva came and taught, [the verse in the Torah] 'that your brother may live with you' [this verse] means [only if you both can survive must you share the water, but in case of conflict] your life takes precedence over his]" (Bava Mezia 62a). While the Talmud never formally rules as to which of these two opinions is binding, Rabbi Akiva's preeminence in Jewish law and thought has guaranteed that his view has been widely accepted by Jewish scholars. Akiva's insistence that we are not obligated to sacrifice our life in an attempt to save someone else seems compelling for two reasons: ∙ Jewish law could not legislate that A be required to give water to B, for if that were the case, then B would be required to give the water back to A, and on and on, until two emaciated bodies would be discovered in the desert alongside a bottle of water. ∙ Akiva's explanation that "your life takes precedence" also makes intuitive sense. Otherwise, the biblical and rabbinic ethic would presume that your responsibility to your neighbor is greater than to yourself, and that your neighbor's obligation to you is greater than to himself.

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LEV1042 Rabbis David Hartman and Tzvi Marx recommend that donors engage in "preventive tzedaka" have not just "crisis tzedaka," by not waiting until someone is impoverished before offering help. We should offer assistance to those who have fallen on hard times so that they can avoid total economic collapse. The biblical verse that mandates extending interest-free loans to the poor begins: "If your brother is in bad straits, and his means fail with him [that is, he loses the ability to support himself] ... You shall strengthen him" [this verse]. The rabbis understand the command to "strengthen" another as meaning that we must offer help when someone is just beginning to stumble.

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LEV1090 In Sefer Chasidim, several passages mandate the sympathetic and fair treatment of animals. Thus, it is permitted to use an animal for work, but one who puts too heavy a burden on it, or beats an animal that is having trouble walking, will be brought by God to judgment for having "caused sorrow to a living creature." [The condemnation of those who overwork animals brings to mind the Torah's command to not treat employees in a ruthless manner [this verse]].

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