Behar Sinai (Leviticus 25:1-26:2) May 21, 2022/20 Iyyar 5782

At the start of this, the penultimate parashah of the book of Leviticus, we read about the cycle of shemitah, the sabbatical year. Once the Israelites enter the Land of Israel, they are to work the land for six years. In the seventh year, the land is to rest; just as we are to have a day of rest every seventh day, so should the land get to rest, with the time frames scaled up. While we in the Diaspora do not have to think about this concept, it is relevant in Israel, as Jewish-owned land cannot be used for commercial agriculture during that year (the current year, 5782, which began on the evening of September 6, 2021, and will end on September 25, 2022, is a shemitah year). Additionally, all debts owed to other Jews are canceled once the shemitah year starts (a rule which does apply outside of Israel).  Also, Israelite slaves become free automatically at the start of the shemitah year, though a slave who particularly loves serving his master has the option to extend his service by undergoing an ear-piercing ceremony. 

After seven cycles, the 50th year is the Jubilee. In the Jubilee year, pretty much everything resets. If you have sold any of your ancestral lands, those lands revert back to your ownership automatically. An Israelite slave who, out of a love for serving his master, chose to remain his slave for life rather than go free in the shemitah year becomes free with the Jubilee year, without an option to extend his service. We are commanded to "Proclaim LIBERTY Throughout all the Land unto all the Inhabitants Thereof" (to use the translation of verse 25:10 as it appears on the Liberty Bell), in order to remind us that we are but temporary residents on the land, which truly belongs to God.

The point of the Jubilee year is to ingrain in us a sense of responsibility for one another. While we have the freedom to serve ourselves, that freedom cannot come at the expense of our duty to our fellows. Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, former Chief Rabbi of the UK, describes this balance as between freedom and equality. While the history of our species demonstrates that freedom always comes at the expense of equality and vice-versa, that need not condemn us to an eternal absence of one or the other.

The novel idea of the Torah is to separate the two extremes to different times. For six years, we can engage in individualism, granted, it is praiseworthy to be altruistic then too, but we can collect our debts, work our land and sell its produce, and we are free to hold our slaves (notwithstanding the question of the morality of slavery in the first place). But this is bound to lead to consistent growth of inequality in our society. So in the seventh year, we tip the scales in favor of equality - slaves are freed, debts are wiped clean, and produce becomes a public utility. While you are not permitted to cultivate your farmland, the fruit and vegetables that grow on their own accord are fair game to eat, however, they are open for anyone who wants them, and you cannot sell them either. 

The periodic recalibration of the balance between freedom and equality is important precisely because the two, despite being in opposition, are also complimentary. Unfettered freedom creates a situation where gaps between those who are successful and those who are not as successful keep growing bigger and bigger. The result of this is that people are forced to sell their property and even themselves and their children to pay their debts. The Torah is telling us that an uncontrolled free exchange of goods and services does not yield equality of opportunity in practice. One bad harvest having the potential to condemn future generations to inescapable poverty and indentured servitude is not actually equal. In order to ensure equal opportunities, we have to periodically wipe the slate clean. A small reset every few years, and then a once-per-generation major reset is what the Torah prescribes to ensure that victims of bad luck or bad decisions have the chance to work themselves back to success (and if they don't, then they get another shot at it the next cycle). Even the solution to the issue of debt cancellation is based not on care for the lender but for the borrower.

When the Torah comes to the topic of the shemitah cycle again later, in the Book of Deuteronomy, it admonishes us: 

Beware lest you harbor the base thought, “The seventh year, the year of remission, is approaching,” so that you are mean and give nothing to your needy kin—who will cry out to God against you, and you will incur guilt. Give readily and have no regrets when you do so, for in return your God will bless you in all your efforts and in all your undertakings. For there will never cease to be needy ones in your land, which is why I command you: open your hand to the poor and needy kin in your land.

We are not meant to avoid giving out loans to the needy as the shemitah year approaches, even though the debt will be wiped clean. We are supposed to readily lend money to those in our community who need help getting back on their feet. But human nature is so strong that people were disobeying this command, and in the last few years of the cycle, loans were not being granted out of a fear that the borrower would not repay the debt (the Mishnah does allow a debtor to voluntarily repay a debt canceled by the shemitah year, though the creditor must remind them of the cancellation of the debt and the debtor must insist on repaying before the repayment can be accepted). To solve this problem, Rabbi Hillel instituted a loophole, called the prozbul: before the shemitah year, a lender can go to the court and transfer the loans to the court - it is only private debt that is canceled, so the debt remains valid into the seventh year. The court can then appoint the lender as its agent to collect the money on its behalf, and pay him the amount of the debt as payment for his services. This way, lenders will feel secure in loaning money, knowing that it will be paid back, and those who are in need of loans will be able to get the financial assistance they need to get back on their feet.

Although we don't always think of the Torah as a guidebook for financial policy, it is important to remember that just like feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and sheltering those without shelter are all parts of tzedakah, so is providing for the financial stability of those who are in dire straights. In fact, in Maimonides's hierarchy of the various forms of tzedakah, the highest form is an investment in the person receiving the charity - a loan (a loan is seen as less embarrassing to the recipient than an outright gift) or a business partnership. While donating to the Kol Nidre food drive is important and collecting toiletries for the local homeless shelter is always welcome, both just make life easier for the less fortunate in our communities. The best thing we can do is to help people make their way out of poverty altogether so that they need not rely on tzedakah for survival. To that end, the Torah establishes a system by which the playing field can be kept level, ensuring that, while there will always be those in our community who need our assistance, everybody has the chance to succeed. After all, the root of 'tzedakah' is 'tzedek', justice. The purpose of tzedakah is not to be compassionate and caring, though those are praiseworthy qualities. Rather, the point of the mitzvah of tzedakah is to bring about a more just society. And a just society must ensure that every member has a truly equal opportunity to succeed.