Save "Kedoshim: The Humanizing Practice of Love"
Kedoshim: The Humanizing Practice of Love

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה׳ אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶך הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ לַעֲסוֹק בְּדִבְרֵי תוֹרָה

בְּרוּךֶ אַתֶה חֲוָיָה שְׁכִינּוּ רוּחַ הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדַשְׁתַנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתֶיהֶ וְצִוְתָנוּ לַעֲסוֹק בְּדִבְרֵי תוֹרָה

בְּרוּכָה אַתְּ יָהּ אֱלֹהָתֵינוּ רוּחַ הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קֵרְבָתְנוּ לַעֲבוֹדָתָהּ וְצִוְתָנוּ לַעֲסוֹק בְּדִבְרֵי תוֹרָה

Blessings for learning and studying Torah

Berakhot 11b:

Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha’olam asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu la’asok b’divrei Torah

Nonbinary Hebrew Project:

B’rucheh ateh Khavayah Shekhinu ruach ha’olam asher kidash’tanu b’mitzvotei’he v’tziv’tanu la’asok b’divrei Torah

Feminine God Language:

Brukhah at Ya Elohateinu ruach ha’olam asher keir’vat’nu la’avodatah v’tziv’tavnu la’asok b’divrei Torah

לֹֽא־תִקֹּ֤ם וְלֹֽא־תִטֹּר֙ אֶת־בְּנֵ֣י עַמֶּ֔ךָ וְאָֽהַבְתָּ֥ לְרֵעֲךָ֖ כָּמ֑וֹךָ אֲנִ֖י יְהֹוָֽה׃

You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against members of your people. Love your neighbor as yourself: I am יהוה.

(לג) וְכִֽי־יָג֧וּר אִתְּךָ֛ גֵּ֖ר בְּאַרְצְכֶ֑ם לֹ֥א תוֹנ֖וּ אֹתֽוֹ׃ (לד) כְּאֶזְרָ֣ח מִכֶּם֩ יִהְיֶ֨ה לָכֶ֜ם הַגֵּ֣ר ׀ הַגָּ֣ר אִתְּכֶ֗ם וְאָהַבְתָּ֥ לוֹ֙ כָּמ֔וֹךָ כִּֽי־גֵרִ֥ים הֱיִיתֶ֖ם בְּאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרָ֑יִם אֲנִ֖י יְהֹוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֵיכֶֽם׃
(33) When strangers reside with you in your land, you shall not wrong them. (34) The strangers who reside with you shall be to you as your citizens; you shall love each one as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I יהוה am your God.
(ג) וַיֹּאמְר֞וּ אִ֣ישׁ אֶל־רֵעֵ֗הוּ הָ֚בָה נִלְבְּנָ֣ה לְבֵנִ֔ים וְנִשְׂרְפָ֖ה לִשְׂרֵפָ֑ה וַתְּהִ֨י לָהֶ֤ם הַלְּבֵנָה֙ לְאָ֔בֶן וְהַ֣חֵמָ֔ר הָיָ֥ה לָהֶ֖ם לַחֹֽמֶר׃
(3) They said to one another, “Come, let us make bricks and burn them hard.”—Brick served them as stone, and bitumen served them as mortar.—
(יג) וַיֵּצֵא֙ בַּיּ֣וֹם הַשֵּׁנִ֔י וְהִנֵּ֛ה שְׁנֵֽי־אֲנָשִׁ֥ים עִבְרִ֖ים נִצִּ֑ים וַיֹּ֙אמֶר֙ לָֽרָשָׁ֔ע לָ֥מָּה תַכֶּ֖ה רֵעֶֽךָ׃
(13) When he went out the next day, he found two Hebrews fighting; so he said to the offender, “Why do you strike your fellow?”
(ב) דַּבֶּר־נָ֖א בְּאׇזְנֵ֣י הָעָ֑ם וְיִשְׁאֲל֞וּ אִ֣ישׁ ׀ מֵאֵ֣ת רֵעֵ֗הוּ וְאִשָּׁה֙ מֵאֵ֣ת רְעוּתָ֔הּ כְּלֵי־כֶ֖סֶף וּכְלֵ֥י זָהָֽב׃
(2) Tell the people to borrow, each man from his neighbor and each woman from hers, objects of silver and gold.”
ואהבת לו כמוך: הגוים הקדמונים לא היו אוהבים רק את בני עמם, ולא היתה הונאת הנכרים נתעבת בעיניהם, לפיכך אמר כאן ואהבת לו כמוך, התנהג עמו כמו שתחפוץ שינהגו אחרים עמך אם היית גר, והוא על דרך מה שכתבתי למעלה (פסוק י"ח) על ואהבת לרעך כמוך.

LOVE [THEM] LIKE YOURSELF: The nations of the ancient world would only love their own people, and they would defraud other peoples because they saw them as despicable foreigners. Therefore, it says here, that you need to love [them] like yourself, and act toward [them] just as you would want. You should act towards [them] as you would want other people to act toward you if you were a foreigner. This is in accord with what is written several verses earlier (Leviticus 19:18): "Love your neighbor (re'ah) as yourself"

Nachum M. Sarna, "JTS Torah Commentary: Leviticus," pg. 134

The Torah, and the Bible generally, emphasize the duty to treat resident foreigners as fairly as one is commanded to treat a citizen. Verse 10 includes the ger, "stranger," among those entitled to the leftovers of the harvest. The ger referred to in the Bible was most often a foreign merchant or craftsman or a mercenary soldier. This term never refers to the prior inhabitants of the land; those are identified by ethnological groupings, such as Canaanites and Amorites, or by other specific terms of reference.

In the biblical ethos, the importance of being considerate to foreign residents drew added impetus from the memory of the Israelite sojourn in Egypt - Israelites should be able to empathize with the alien. In fact, because of xenophobic attitudes, which could lead to extreme acts of violence against strangers, most ancient societies had laws protecting foreign merchants, officials, and others.

Hebrew lo' tonu, "do not wrong," usually connotes economic exploitation, the deprivation of property, or denial of legal rights. It was used with particular reference to those who suffered from lack of legal redress, such as the poor, the widow and the orphan, along with the foreigner.

ואהבת לרעך כמוך אהוב בעד רעך מה שהיית אוהב בעדך אם היית מגיע למקומו. ובהיות שמכלל יראת האל יתברך היא שמירת החוקים כי אמנם השומרם למען לא יחטא לו לא יהיה זה אלא שכבר הכיר גדלו ושאין ראוי למרות את דברו ושכבר הכיר טובו וידע שלא יצוה אלא הראוי והטוב אף על פי שלא נתפרסם טעם המצוה, אמר:

There follows a general, all inclusive rule to be observed in relations towards one’s fellow, phrased as ואהבת לרעך כמוך (love your neighbor as yourself), telling us to apply the same yardstick to our concern for our fellow that we would want applied to ourselves if we were in [their] shoes in similar situations.

כי גרים הייתם בארץ מצרים פרש״‎י מום שבך אל תאמר לחברך ובמצרים עבדו ישראל עבודת כוכבים כדכתיב בסוף יהושע והסירו את אלהים אשר עבדו אבותיכם בעבר הנהר ובמצרים.

כי גרים הייתם בארץ מצרים, “for you were treated as strangers while in Egypt.” Rashi comments on this phrase that we must not be critical of a shortcoming of a stranger and treat [them] as second class, as we did not like it when we were treated as second class during the hundreds of years we were in Egypt. While there we worshipped the same idols that the Egyptians had worshipped, so that we have nothing to feel superior about.

שוב מעשה בנכרי אחד שבא לפני שמאי א"ל גיירני ע"מ שתלמדני כל התורה כולה כשאני עומד על רגל אחת דחפו באמת הבנין שבידו בא לפני הלל גייריה אמר לו דעלך סני לחברך לא תעביד זו היא כל התורה כולה ואידך פירושה הוא זיל גמור.
There was another incident involving a certain gentile who came before Shammai and said to him:
"Convert me on condition that you will teach me the entire Torah while I stand on one foot."
Shammai pushed him away with the rule in his hand.
The gentile came before Hillel. Hillel converted him. Hillel said to him:
"What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. This is the entire Torah, the rest is commentary. Go and learn."

Rabbi Maralee Gordon, "The Heart of the Torah," https://truah.org/resources/the-heart-of-the-torah/

It’s one thing to love your neighbor, the one with whom you have so much in common, as yourself. It is a harder task to look at persons of a different color, class, language, or culture and regard them as equally in need of respect and compassion as your neighbor. [...] Loving the stranger as ourselves – not simply doing the stranger no harm, but easing their oppression – is our most important task. [...] I used to cite Love your neighbor as yourself as the core principle of the Torah. I have come to understand that Love the stranger as yourself is both the core principle of the Torah and our mission as a light unto the nations.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, "Love Is Not Enough," https://www.rabbisacks.org/covenant-conversation/acharei-mot/love-not-enough/

These two commands define Judaism as a religion of love – not just of God (“with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your might”), but of humanity also. That was and is a world-changing idea.

But what calls for deep reflection is where these commands appear. They do so in Parshat Kedoshim in what, to contemporary eyes, must seem one of the strangest passages in the Torah. [...]

At first glance these laws [of Leviticus 19] have nothing to do with one another: some are about conscience, some about politics and economics, and others about purity and taboo. Clearly, though, the Torah is telling us otherwise. They do have something in common. They are all about order, limits, boundaries. They are telling us that reality has a certain underlying structure whose integrity must be honoured. If you hate or take revenge you destroy relationships. If you commit injustice, you undermine the trust on which society depends. If you fail to respect the integrity of nature (different seeds, species, and so on), you take the first step down a path that ends in environmental disaster.

There is an order to the universe [and] when that order is observed and preserved, we become co-creators of the sacred harmony and integrated diversity that the Torah calls “holy.”

Rabbi Jonathan Kiligler, "Kedoshim: Love the Stranger as Yourself," https://truah.org/resources/kedoshim-love-the-stranger-as-yourself/

[T]he Torah insists that when we encounter a stranger, we transcend self-interest and instead practice empathy. To accomplish that, we must be able to identify with the stranger and to imagine what it must feel like to be without power in a land not your own. As we are commanded in Exodus 23:9, “You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the feelings of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt.”

This is very hard to do. The Torah repeats these instructions in various forms more than three dozen times, more than any other commandment. My theory is that the rules that get repeated the most are the ones that people are having trouble following! But the Torah insists that all human beings are made in the Divine image. We are all fundamentally deserving of being treated with dignity, care and respect, including the foreigner, the stranger, the immigrant, and the refugee. The Torah commands us repeatedly to grow to this level of awareness.

The genius of Judaism is that the very story we tell about ourselves and our origins as strangers in a strange land is meant to awaken us to the plight of the stranger we encounter in our own land. The Jewish story, if taken to heart, is an exercise in empathy, a humanizing practice. This is why I feel compelled to reach out to the strangers in our midst. And in the process, I turn strangers into neighbors, and perhaps even friends.

Rabbi Jonatha Sacks, "Loving the Stranger," https://www.rabbisacks.org/covenant-conversation/mishpatim/loving-the-stranger/

It is terrifying in retrospect to grasp how seriously the Torah took the phenomenon of xenophobia, hatred of the stranger. It is as if the Torah were saying with the utmost clarity: reason is insufficient. Sympathy is inadequate. Only the force of history and memory is strong enough to form a counterweight to hate.

Why should you not hate the stranger? – asks the Torah. Because you once stood where [they] stand now. You know the heart of the stranger because you were once a stranger in the land of Egypt. If you are human, so [are they]. If [they are] less than human, so are you. You must fight the hatred in your heart as I once fought the greatest ruler and the strongest empire in the ancient world on your behalf. I made you into the world’s archetypal strangers so that you would fight for the rights of strangers – for your own and those of others, wherever they are, whoever they are, whatever the color of their skin or the nature of their culture, because though they are not in your image – says G-d – they are nonetheless in Mine. There is only one reply strong enough to answer the question: Why should I not hate the stranger? Because the stranger is me.

Rabbi Charlie Cytron-Walker, "My Synagogue Was Attacked, but I Will Never Stop Welcoming the Stranger,"

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/02/23/opinion/colleyville-texas-synagogue-antisemitism.html

What happened to us at Beth Israel in Colleyville is only the most recent, dramatic event. Even before the Jan. 15 attack on my synagogue, many Jewish people were on edge. Antisemitic attacks have increased in recent years. Hatred has already led to harassment and even bloodshed in too many houses of worship. These problems have been with us for far too long.

At least part of the problem is because we, ourselves, are strangers. Jews are strangers. Muslims are strangers. People with a different religious tradition — or no religious tradition — are perceived as strangers. People of different ethnicities can be considered strangers. People who hold different political views are seen as strangers. We’re strangers because one can look from afar and make judgments without understanding another’s reality. We’re strangers because it takes too much work to be curious, to give others the benefit of the doubt. It is a lot easier and a lot more comfortable to stick with one’s group. “Love your neighbor” is hard enough. [...]

All of us have a share in [the work of loving the stranger]. It means clergy and community leaders from every background meeting with curiosity, to share our traditions and our lives. It means gathering communities of faith together with those who don’t practice a religion, with a desire to listen, learn and the opportunity to build new relationships. [...]

If we begin with that love of the stranger, but offer it not in response to violence, but encouraged by empathy, we might just change our world.

Martin Niemöller, "First They Came..."

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a socialist.

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

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