Parshat Mishpatim offers us some major lessons in the essence of what it means to be a Jew, for here we are presented with a glimpse of Hakodosh Boruch Hu as He sits on His throne waiting to teach the Torah to Moshe and Aharon. While we do not get a description of Hashem in His exalted essence, we are told that his footstool was made in the likeness of a sapphire brick, and it was like the essence of heaven in purity. This footstool was always in Hashem’s sight, and therefore we must try to understand what Hashem was teaching us through this image.
Rashi explains that the footstool was purposely designed to resemble a brick so that Hashem would have a constant reminder of the bricks Bnei Yisroel were forced to form during their enslavement, and when they were redeemed, the darkness of the enslavement was transformed to radiance and light. But Rav Belsky in Einei Yisroel questions why the bricks were made of sapphire. If they were to be a reminder of the difficult work Bnei Yisroel performed in Egypt, this footstool should have been made of straw and mortar, as were the bricks that Bnei Yisroel actually fashioned. That they were made of sapphire must include some deep meaning.
Rabbi Belsky continues by reminding us of the seminal experiences that formed our national identity, our redemption from Egypt and our stand at Mount Sinai. But Rabbi Belsky explains that the 210 years of enslavement leading up to the redemption were equally important and formative. It was in the environment of Egypt, the harsh melting pot, that our souls were purified and fashioned with the unique traits that identify a Jew: A Jew is compassionate, humble, and a practitioner of loving kindness. In connection with so many of our laws dealing with strangers and the poor, the Torah reminds us that we were strangers in the land of Egypt.
The enslavement itself, it is obvious, had a purpose beyond leading to our redemption and the revelation at Sinai. Therefore, in Hashem’s eyes, the bricks were not simply straw and clay, but had inestimable value, for they were the jewels embedded into the soul of every Jew.
We each experience hardship in our lives, our personal enslavement. These hardships, along with the positive experiences in our lives, should be transformed into catalysts for growth. The difficulties and tragedies then become rare jewels we wear on our hearts. How many of our people have taken personal tragedy and used them to create networks of chessed and service!
It is nearly impossible to recognize the good within a tragedy while we are experiencing that tragedy. Only in hindsight do we recognize the good inherent in the difficulty. That is why, the Chidushei HaRim explains, that the symbols of the Seder begin with the mention of Pesach followed by matzo and bitter herbs, for only after the redemption could the monstrous conditions of the enslavement, symbolized by the matzo and the bitter herbs, be viewed in a appositive light. The Chasam Sofer uses a similar perspective to explain an enigmatic exchange between Hashem and Moshe. When Moshe asks Hashem to show him His glory, Hashem’s reply seems almost capricious. But then Hashem tells Moshe that he will see Hashem’s back, but not His face (Shemos 33:18-23). The Chasam Sofer interprets this to mean that we may get a glimpse of Hashem’s workings in hindsight, but we may never understand Hashem’s motives in advance.
The classic question of why do good things happen to bad people and vice versa is first tackled in Iyov. Iyov, the righteous man, suffers tremendous tragedies. His friends offer several reasons, all of which Iyov rejects even though he himself has no explanation for his suffering. Rabbi Frand offers a beautiful insight into Iyov’s psyche. Iyov, says Rabbi Frand, had come to a realization of Hashem through purely intellectual means, and so he searches for a logical answer for his suffering. But it was only after Hashem made personal contact and spoke to him creating an intimate connection could Iyov accept the tragedies that had befallen him. The acceptance that comes from trust is based on emotional intimacy rather than on intellectual understanding. At that moment of connection, Iyov understood that he was a child of Hashem, and Hashem would do him no harm. He now understood that his suffering was a path to personal growth his Father had put before him. Iyov’s “bricks” were transformed into sapphires.
On the other side of the coin, Rabbi Zelig Pliskin in Growth through Torah quotes Reb Yerucham whowants us to understand what this extraordinary footstool teaches us about Hakodosh Boruch Hu so that we can try to emulate Him. Yes, Hashem sits upon an exalted throne, so to speak, but His thoughts are with us in our suffering. Hashem kept a symbol of our suffering in Egypt before His eyes at all times so that He could empathize with us and share our burden, “emo Anochi betzoroh.” But it was not only during our suffering that He was with us. When we were able to turn that suffering around and have a greater appreciation of our redemption, when the light shone with the clarity of day, Hashem rejoiced with us as well. To emulate Hashem, we must not only lighten the burden of our suffering brother but also rejoice with him in his successes and in his celebrations. Indeed, one of the 48 ways of acquiring Torah, according to Chaza”l, is through sharing the burden of one’s fellow; Aharon merited becoming the high priest because he rejoiced in his heart when not he but his younger brother was chosen to lead the Jewish people.
The Vayomer Yehudah cites this characteristic as the basis for all the laws between man and his fellow man beginning with the laws of how to treat one’s servant, laws which form the basis of most of this Parsha. The Sifsei Chaim explains that when one is willing to shoulder the burden of his friend in both good and bad times, he is automatically shrinking his own ego. When you put yourself in the place of the beggar at the door, you begin to treat him as a human being created in the image of God. You make him feel less alone, no longer an outcast. That brick he is carrying on his back, through your help and warmth, is now no longer a heavy burden but a beautiful sapphire. And if you can see yourself in him, you will never want to hurt him, materially or emotionally. These bricks that we are transforming into sapphires can form the foundation of the future Beit Hamikdosh, may it be built speedily in our day.
(Summary by Channie Koplowitz Stein)