Extensions

By Rabbi Joshua (extensively known as The Hoffer) Hoffman

In memory of Mrs. Liba Kaplan, mother of Rabbi Isser Kaplan נ"י, who passed away last week in Brooklyn, at the age of one-hundred. May her memory be a blessing.

Parshas Ki Seitzei consists of many mitzvos – seventy-two according to the count of the Rambam, a number of which are connected through the dual principle of mitzvah goreres mitzvah and aveirah goreres aveirah: meaning that the performance of a positive mitzvah leads to the performance of another positive mitzvah, and the violation of a prohibition leads to the violation of another prohibition. Maharal explains that the basis of this principle is that the Torah, in its totality, forms one inter-connected unit. Still, in many cases, we find a specific inter-connection linking several mitzvos mentioned next to each other. I would like to focus on two mitzvos, mentioned one after the other in the early part of the parsha, in an effort to find their connecting link.

The Torah tells us that if we see someone’s donkey straying in the field, we should try to return it to its owner, and so, too, should we act in regard to any lost object of our fellow (Devorim 22:1-4). We are then told that if someone’s donkey has fallen in the road, we should help him raise it back up (Devorim 22:5). How are these two mitzvos connected in a way that the fulfillment of one leads to the fulfillment of the other?

Rav Mordechai Ilan, in his Mikdash Mordechai, cites a passage in the Talmud (Bava Metzia 28) which says that there was a claimant’s stone, or block, in Yerushalayim, to which anyone who lost something would go, and where anyone who found something would announce his find. The owner could then give the identifying marks and claim his object. Interestingly, points out Rav Ilan, the Rambam (Laws of Gezailah Ve-Aveidah, 13:1) says that the stone was outside Yerushalayim, seemingly on basis of the Yerushalmi (Ta’anis, 3:9). Why did the Rambam choose to follow the Yerushalmi? Rav Ilan explains this decision on the basis of a midrash in parshas Pekudei, which says, that there a “kipas ha-cheshbon,” or a chamber of calculations, outside of Yerushalayim, where people would go to calculate their economic position. The reason for it being outside Yerushalayim was that such calculations can cause one mental anguish, and people are supposed to be happy in Yerushalayim, which is referred to in Scripture as “the joy of all the land.” The loss of one’s possessions, also, says Rav Ilan, is painful, and, therefore, should be dealt with outside of Yerushalayim.

This observation of Rav Ilan carries a powerful message. A person’s possessions are not something divorced from his reality, but part of his self-identity, carrying memories and meaning not necessarily discernible to others. When he loses or misplaces one of these possessions, it impacts on his sense of self, and causes him distress, and it is the obligation of the person who finds it to do his best to return it to its owner. In this light, we can better understand how the Talmud (Sanhedrin 73a) derives from these laws that it is obligatory to save one whose life is in danger. If we are obligated to restores a person’s property, says the Talmud, we are certainly obligated to restore his soul. The implication, or perhaps grounding, of this statement, is that a person’s possessions are an extension of his soul. Based on this understanding, we can explain the connecting and the one which follows it. If a person sees that someone’s donkey has fallen in the road, the Torah tells us, he must help stand it back up. The beast of burden assists its owner in his work, and, when it falls, his work is curtailed. A person’s work is also, and perhaps in even a greater sense, an extension of himself, representing his productivity and his contribution to society at large. When his work is interrupted, there is a certain diminution in his ability to bring out his creativity, and, here too, we must assist him in correcting the situation. It is a small step to apply this idea to the spiritual realm, as well. Thus, the mitzvah of returning a lost object, of being sensitive to a person’s loss of part of his self-identity, leads to a sensitivity to a loss of his ability to work and thereby express his creativity, as well, following the principle of “mitzvah goreres mitzvah.”