Mishpatim: The Feminine Trait of Empathy

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On the surface, Mishpatim seems like an incredibly dry parsha full of technical laws pertaining to money, property and relationships. However, it is in these pesukim that we learn of Hashem’s deep feelings towards klal yisrael, and in turn, how attuned and empathetic Hashem expects us to be towards our fellow Jew.

One pasuk in the parsha stands apart from all the others. It is not a law, but a description so to speak, of Hashem:

“They saw the God of Israel, and under His feet was the likeness of a sapphire brick”.¹

Rashi explains that Hashem is compared to sapphire brick because Hashem kept a brick close to Him at all times, to constantly remind Himself, as it were, of our crushing slavery. So brutal was the labor, that the Jewish people were not even provided with bricks to work with, rather, they had to form the bricks themselves from straw.

The Chizkuni elaborates that this was not merely a dazzling brick with a random message of feeling for klal yisrael. We can read it not as livnat sapir/sapphire brick but livnat shapir/a placenta brick. This is because of the tragic story of one Jewish woman who was so broken by the torturous labour that she delivered her baby prematurely right into the mortar, forming one of the bricks. The Chizkuni describes that the malach Michael fashioned it into a brick and brought it up to Hashem who kept it close to His kisei hakavod, never forgetting the anguished cries of that Jewish mother and the deep suffering of the people². Seeing Hashem in sapphire form was not about beholding a sparkling gem, but the beauty of Hashem’s deep love for us in the very lowest parts of galut.

The very same parsha which describes Hashem’s ability to bear and share klal yisrael’s pain commands us:

You shall not oppress a stranger for you know the heart of a stranger, you were strangers in the land of Egypt³

We are commanded by the Torah to practice empathy, to truly feel the pain of another Jew. Rabbi Sacks⁴ highlights that the Torah did not need to mention a ‘ger’ or ‘stranger’ specifically, as we are expected to practice empathy in every relationship, close and distant. The reference to Egyptian exile hints to the fact that one of the purposes of us being placed in this painful, foreign environment was in order to learn how it feels to suffer, so that we will always come to the aid of the suffering. We know what it means to be in a hostile environment and therefore others’ feelings of hostility resonate with us. Even to our own family, they may adopt ‘the heart of a stranger’ – and born of the Egyptian galut, we know this feeling all too well.

Rabbi Sacks points out that these feelings of ‘otherness,’ being a ger, are not limited to physical location, constrained to the geographical galut of Mitzrayim or the like. Rather, it is a feeling of estrangement, an emotional Mitzrayim which any person can experience. Our suffering in Egypt paved the way for us to understand that in our fellow Jew. And it is a topic which is scattered throughout Torah– Hagar and Yishmael being sent away, Esav’s feeling of rejection after Yaakov receives the brachot, Leah’s feelings of being the hated wife amongst many other stories. Hashem wants us to hear through the narratives of the Torah how real the feelings are of being unloved, unchosen and estranged. And through that to tap into our deep, Jewish – and utterly feminine, reservoirs of empathy.

In fact, this quality is embodied in Moshe Rabbeinu, our leader. The Torah’s first description of Moshe is not his scholarship but ‘he looked at their burdens,’ his care and compassion for the people. There is a beautiful Midrash⁵ which describes the way Moshe lovingly tended to his flock when he worked as a shepherd for Yitro. One day, one of the sheep ran away and Moshe followed it until it arrived at a spring of water, where it drank thirstily. Moshe picked up the sheep and said lovingly “I didn’t realize you were thirsty, you must be tired” and carried the sheep back to the flock on his shoulders. The Midrash records that Hashem said to Moshe: “Since you took care of your flock with such care, you will be the one to care for My flock, the Jewish people.”

As women, we too are entrusted to take care of the flock of Hashem, our beloved children. Sometimes our flock may run away; our children may act up, talk back or switch off entirely. Instead of sinking into their feelings of rejection and otherness, we have the power as mothers to see that their behavior is stemming from a place of deep need for love and connection. We are able to see their feelings of unwantedness, and fill them. We can lovingly carry our sheep on our shoulders even when they act in unexpected ways or ways they shouldn’t. We can look at our child and say “Come, have your favorite snack” or “Here’s a hot chocolate I prepared for you on this cold day.” Or even “I didn’t realize you needed a hug.” When we do this, we are emulating the level of Moshe Rabbeinu, the leader of the flock and Hashem, our true loving Shepherd.

Hashem holds our bricks of pain close to His heart and expects us to rise up and do the same for others. May all these sapphire bricks of slavery join together to reveal the magnificent edifice we all await – the 3rd and final Beit Hamikdash, built with ahavat chinam, and empathy.