Boulder Aish Kodesh

With Pesach fresh on our minds, we can all identify with the strong emphasis the Torah places on freedom. We can all identify specific ways in which we are enslaved – to the opinions of others, to the physical world, to our jobs. Parshat Behar lays the framework by which actual, literal freedom is legislated: a person who has been sold into slavery can be redeemed immediately by a relative or by his or her self. And if a person is not redeemed, that person goes free in the Sabbatical year or in the Jubilee year, whichever comes first (see Rashi 25:40).

But the Torah goes on to describe far more subtle forms of slavery, whereby one is not the slave but the master, and yet one is enslaved just the same. In Tractate Kedushin 20a, it is written, ‘anyone who buys for himself a Hebrew slave, buys a master for himself.’ The literal understanding of this passage is that the responsibilities of ‘owning’ a Jewish slave, whereby one is required to feed him and house him in certain ways, are so intense that one becomes subservient to one’s slave.

A deeper meaning of this passage is that that which we control controls us. Therefore the earth’s rest must be commanded – to ensure that we do not become controlled by the fact that we control land. We are further commanded to relinquish control over the produce, as during that year, all produce becomes hefker, meaning ‘not owned’. Any person or animal may come and partake of it.

Another level of freedom is achieved in the Jubilee year. In that year, all Jews are commanded to return to their tribal land. This is tantamount to a forced removal from any life one has made for one’s self – from a house built, from a local job or relationship with neighbors, from a climate or locale. This could cause a great amount of pain, as we often become quite attached to the lives we have made for ourselves. But the Torah insists in its demand for freedom, even to the point of emphasizing the ideal of freedom at the expense of the goodness that could come from any type of attachment.

Still, the Torah does not command one to remain on one’s ancestral land forever. Nor does the Torah abolish slavery as an institution. Rather, it allows for these phenomena to exist, but with mechanisms to ensure eventual freedom within the natural cycles of distance from sovereignty of land and of self.

Within the context of temporarily losing sovereignty over one’s land, the laws of freedom are still intact. The Torah requires that we focus on the subtler forms of freedom even as we engage in acts that look to be acts of slavery. This takes the form of legislating against the temptation one might have to extort another as concerns the price of the land. As we discussed in Parshat Kedoshim, the command to ‘be holy’ requires our constant engagement with the institutions of this world while avoiding the temptation to be drawn in to the ‘physical’ aspects of those institutions. Similarly, we are allows to buy and sell our ancestral land, but we are commanded to refrain from extorting the weakness or vulnerability of the seller at that time. Thus, the verse says. ‘And when you sell to your landsman, or when you buy from the hand of your landsman, let one not extort the other.’ This commandment legislates freedom from addiction to profit. The need to manipulate another human being to satisfy one’s desire for monetary gain offers the illusion of control but is actually another form of slavery.

This is further exemplified in commandments against taking interest from a loan. One who is in the position of lending money may be tempted to use that position as a way to gain money or power. Again, a position that looks like freedom – being self-sufficient and able to lend to others - is actually an opportunity for another form of slavery.

In this light, one can better understand the beginning of the Parsha – ‘and Hashem spoke to Moshe on Mt. Sinai, saying…’ It is not clear why the Torah must mention that this Parsha was said on Mt. Sinai. One possible answer is that the experience of Sinai was an experience of freedom. The same shofar that is blown at the advent of the Jubilee year was blown on Mt. Sinai, and that blowing was referred to as Yovel – Jubilee (Shemot 19:13).

In Pirkei Avot, we find a comment on the verse ‘and the writing was the writing of

G-d, engraved on the tablets’ (Shemot 32:16). The word ‘engraved’ – charut – can be read cheirut – freedom – according to the Talmud. The Mishnah goes on there to say that he only free person is one who is involved with Torah. That experience of the giving of the Torah was an invitation to ultimate freedom – the freedom to experience the depths of what every relationship has to offer. This is true between people, between us and Hashem, between us and land, between us and other nations, etc.

We need to be reminded of that freedom – particularly when we are engaged in acts that might cause us to forget. All forms of slavery have a gravity that can draw us into their orbit, and away from orbit around G-d and G-d’s Torah. If one submits to any slavery, it is tantamount to forgetting the Torah. This is indicated in the commandment to pierce through the ear of one who wishes to remain in slavery. The Midrash Mechilta asks why it must specifically go through the ear. R’ Yohanan b’ Zakai answers that one who sold himself into slavery must have forgotten hearing G-d say ‘for they are slaves unto me’ at Mt. Sinai. Therefore, the ear is pierced

But the more subtle forms of slavery require a deeper reminder because they feel like freedom. Therefore the Torah gives us the laws we need in order to remember out true birthright – true freedom.