Parashat Emor Leviticus 21:1-24:23
Haftarah Ezekiel 44:15-31
Dear TBE Community,
I was writing about Pesach Sheni, the second Passover, and about second chances for my Kol Beit El column for May, so restitution and repair were on my mind when I read one of the final verses of this week’s parasha:
Regarding anyone who maims another person: what was done shall be done in return—fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth. The injury inflicted on a human being shall be inflicted in return (Leviticus 24:19–20).
This verse in Parashat Emor is not the only place where this famous and, maybe unjustly, infamous image appears. Torah invokes it twice more: in Exodus 21:24, in Parashat Mishpatim, and in Deuteronomy 19:21, in Parashat Shoftim.
I say “unjustly infamous” because the rabbinic commentators go to great lengths to interpret these verses not as literal bodily retaliation, but as monetary compensation for injury: damages to be paid. If a person loses an eye, how do we assess the value of that loss? Is the injury the same for a cab driver as for a pianist? What kind of work can the person no longer do? What income has been lost? How much pain and suffering did the injury cause? What treatment will be needed going forward? Was there humiliation involved?
Injuries, as we know, are not always physical.
Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, in a collection of Hasidic folk tales, includes the story of a man who went around town slandering the rabbi. One day, realizing that many of the things he had said were unfair, he came to the rabbi’s house and asked for forgiveness. The rabbi told him that he would forgive him on one condition: the man should go home, take a feather pillow, cut it open, and scatter the feathers to the wind. Then he should return.
Albeit puzzled, the man was relieved to be given such a seemingly easy penance. He cut open the pillow, scattered the feathers, and came back.
“Am I forgiven now?” he asked.
“Just one more thing,” the rabbi said. “Go now and gather up all the scattered feathers.”
“But that’s impossible,” the man replied. “The wind has already carried them away.”
“Precisely,” answered the rabbi. “And though you truly wish to correct the wrong you have done, it is as impossible to repair the damage done by your words as it is to recover the feathers.”
Human beings are not capable of living without failure. We hurt each other. We speak unfairly. Injuries happen. Damage gets done.
The Torah says, “eye for an eye,” but the rabbis refuse to let justice become vengeance. They transform the verse from a rule of retaliation into a system of measured responsibility. The injury, in this case the slander, cannot be undone, but it can be acknowledged, measured and accounted for. Rabbinic law turns the passion of revenge into the discipline of repair. Even if complete repair may not be possible, we are encouraged to try our best – just as we are cautioned to avoid causing such damages in the first place.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Julia Knobloch