Shabbat Shalom.

Parashat Ki Teitzei is one of the most challenging portions in the Torah.  It contains more mitzvot than almost any other parashah—laws about marriage, family, workers, business practices, lost property, the poor, the stranger, and the treatment of animals.

At first, these laws can seem like a long list of unrelated instructions.  But I believe there is a thread connecting many of them.  It is a simple idea:  Do not look away.

In Deuteronomy we read:

“If you see your fellow’s ox or sheep gone astray, do not ignore it. You must take it back to your fellow.”  The Hebrew expression is particularly powerful: lo tuchal l’hitalem—”you shall not be able to hide yourself.”  The Torah is telling us that once we see something that needs our attention, we have a responsibility.

• We cannot simply say, “It’s not my problem.”
• We cannot pretend that we didn’t notice.
• And perhaps most importantly, we cannot convince ourselves that someone else’s suffering has nothing to do with us.

Seeing creates responsibility.

Think about how often we encounter situations in everyday life where we have a choice.

• We see someone sitting alone.
• Do we walk past—or do we say hello?
• We know someone is going through a difficult time.
• Do we wait for them to call—or do we call them?
• We notice that someone in our community has quietly withdrawn.
• Do we assume that someone else will take care of it—or do we reach out?

These may seem like small things.  But Judaism teaches that small things are often where our values become real.

Ki Teitzei tells us that holiness is not confined to prayer, Torah study, or the synagogue. 

• Holiness can be found in returning a lost object.
• Holiness can be found in paying a worker on time.
• Holiness can be found in using honest weights and measures.
• Holiness can be found in helping someone whose animal has fallen beneath its burden.
• And holiness can be found in noticing the person who is carrying a burden that we cannot see.

There is another remarkable teaching in this week’s parashah.

The Torah says that a worker must be paid on time because “he is needy and urgently depends upon it.”  The Torah could simply have said, “Pay your workers.”  Instead, it explains why.

• Because there is a human being on the other side of the transaction.
• Behind the paycheck is a family.
• Behind the bill is a person.
• Behind every economic decision is a human life.
• That is an important lesson for all of us.
• It is easy to reduce people to categories.
• Customer.
• Employee.
• Neighbor.
• Stranger.
• Member.
• Visitor.

But Judaism insists that before a person is any of those things, that person is a human being created b’tzelem Elohim—in the image of God.

The Torah asks us to see the person, not merely the circumstance.

There is another phrase that appears repeatedly in Ki Teitzei:

“Remember that you were a slave in Egypt.”  Why does the Torah keep reminding us of Egypt?  Because memory is supposed to change behavior.  We were strangers.  Therefore, we should understand the stranger.  We were vulnerable.  Therefore, we should protect the vulnerable.  We suffered.  Therefore, we should not become indifferent to the suffering of others.  Jewish memory is not meant to remain in the past.  Memory is supposed to become morality.

That is an extraordinary Jewish idea.  We don’t simply remember what happened to us.  We ask what that memory requires us to do.  And perhaps this is especially important today, when we are surrounded by so much information.

Every day we see photographs and videos of suffering around the world.  We hear stories of people experiencing poverty, war, loneliness, displacement, and fear.  The danger is that we can become overwhelmed.  We see so much that eventually we stop seeing.

The Torah’s message is different.

It says:

• You don’t have to solve everything.
• But don’t look away from everything.
• You may not be able to change the entire world.
• But you can change someone’s experience of the world.
• You can make the phone call.
• You can make the visit.
• You can invite someone to sit with you.
• You can offer a ride.
• You can listen.
• You can notice.

And sometimes the most important thing we can give another person is not an answer.

It is the assurance:

“I see you.”

There is one more difficult teaching at the end of Ki Teitzei.

The Torah tells us to remember Amalek—the nation that attacked Israel from behind, particularly targeting the vulnerable.  It is a difficult passage because we are asked to remember hatred and violence without allowing hatred and violence to consume us.  But perhaps that is another form of “do not look away.”  We must not forget evil.  We must remember history.  We must remember what happens when the vulnerable are abandoned and when cruelty becomes acceptable.

But remembering is not the same as living in hatred.  Our task is to transform memory into wisdom.  We remember so that we can build a world in which such cruelty becomes less likely—not so that we perpetuate the cycle of hatred.

So what does Ki Teitzei ask of us this Shabbat?

Perhaps it asks us three questions.

• What do we see?
• What do we choose not to see?
• And what will we do about what we see?

Those questions are not merely philosophical.  They are deeply Jewish questions.  When we see someone in need, Judaism says: Don’t look away.

• When we see injustice, don’t look away.
• When we see loneliness, don’t look away.
• When we see a person who has become invisible to everyone else, don’t look away.
• And when we look in the mirror and see our own shortcomings, don’t look away from those either.

Because the same Torah that asks us to recognize the dignity of others asks us to become better people ourselves.  The world does not need us to be perfect.  It needs us to be present.  It needs us to notice.  It needs us to care.  And it needs us to act.

Perhaps that is the real lesson of Ki Teitzei.  A Jewish life is built one moment at a time.

• One person notices.
• One person cares.
• One person reaches out.
• One person helps carry the burden.
• And one small act of kindness becomes part of the work of tikkun olam—repairing our world.

May we have the courage this Shabbat not to look away.  May we have the eyes to see those who need us.  May we have the hearts to care.  And may we have the strength to turn what we see into action.

Shabbat Shalom.