Torah portion: Becoming humans

“Evolution” is an explosive word in a Torah article. I’d like to argue, though, that there is one sense of evolution that is agreed to by all Jewish scholars.

Parashat Mishpatim opens its message with the laws of owning a slave. A refrain heard twice in the Torah portion is that we must remember what it was like when we were slaves in Egypt. This emotional memory can help us evolve into better people. It will ensure that we don’t pass on the dysfunctions of one generation to the next. 

The founder of the Chasidic movement, the Baal Shem Tov, makes a cryptic comment about this. He says the primary loss during the Jewish exile in Egypt was that da’at (knowledge) was in exile. 

What does it mean that knowledge was in exile? At the top of the kabbalistic chain are three attributes — yanav (wisdom), hochma (understanding) and da’at. Yanav is the initial flash of energy when an idea first reaches the mind. Hochma is when one begins to try to understand this flash of inspiration. Da’at is when one tries to relate to this newfound information. Knowledge, then, is the ability to integrate the material that we learn. This was temporarily lost while in Egypt.

The Torah teaches us: “Every firstling donkey you shall redeem with a sheep” (Exodus 13:13). Subsequent to this imperative, we are told we must redeem our firstborn males as well, and that when they ask, “What does this mean?” we shall answer that “God took us out of Egypt with a strong hand from the house of slaves” (Exodus 13:14). What’s the connection between this verse and the aforementioned redemption of a donkey? Moreover, why did God command the Israelites that the firstborn donkey be exchanged for a sheep?

One great early 20th-century scholar, Rav Yosef Dov Fishof, suggests that the answer lies in the distinction between a donkey and a sheep. There is no animal like the donkey used throughout history in greater proportions as beasts of burden. The donkey works tremendously hard, and the food it is given is of the lowest quality, often poor quality scrub. The sheep, on the other hand, is treated as one the best among domesticated animals, for it has a faithful shepherd leading it through the greenest of pastures. 

When the Jewish people were in Egypt, they were at the level of donkeys, working like animals, day and night without stop. But God had different plans, and He eventually took them out and lifted them to the level of a sheep. They also had a faithful shepherd in Moses. This is the connection between the two verses. The Egypt experience taught us that we must evolve.

Momentum — taking one success and building toward another — is the key to this development. In the business paradigm book, “The Momentum Effect,” by J.C. Larreche, the author argues that for businesses to take the road to momentum, it requires two factors: traction and movement. Traction means that a product is in place that is so compelling that our movement in its direction is obvious and desired. Movement means that all possible obstacles in the way of acquiring that prized product have been removed. For the Israelites, once slavery was removed, everything necessary for our development fell into place. There was the promise of a compelling product (Torah), a hungry people (the Israelites), and a path cleared of all obstacles.

The “Sefer HaChinuch” notes that on Pesach, the Korban HaOmer (barley offering) is brought. This is followed, seven weeks later, when we bring actual bread. It symbolizes our progression, going from animal food to human food, indicating that the Omer process is a time when we work on becoming humans. This is Jewish evolution. It is about bringing knowledge out of exile (to use the words of the Baal Shem Tov). In Egypt, we were made to feel almost subhuman. We lost the quality that distinguished us from animals — our ability to think freely.

There is a famous debate as to when the Israelites were commanded to build the Mishkan (Tabernacle). According to Rashi, the commandment came after the sin of the golden calf. But the Ramban assumes it came before, and further develops the idea that Moses repeated the commandment after the second set of tablets was given. 

What is the purpose of recapitulating this commandment? Moreover, why is the building of the Mishkan supposed to arise in context with the Sinai experience? Some suggest that the Mishkan was designed to be our personal Sinai wherever we go. There’s only one problem with this approach: Why not ask the Jewish people to build something that looks like Sinai, a mini mountain model, if you will? 

It is clear from numerous verses in Exodus that the Mishkan was, in fact, supposed to look like a human being. The Torah uses its description in terms that are frighteningly similar to human body parts. The reason for this is because the Tabernacle was supposed to reflect Sinai in the sense that at Sinai we were learning how to become full-fledged human beings — full-fledged in that we knew how to operate with da’at. As the Talmud in Sotah states, “There is no knowledge like the knowledge of Torah.” Therefore, the Israelites were implored to build an edifice that looked like a human being — the ultimate Jewish evolution. 

Rabbi Shlomo Einhorn is rav and dean of Yeshivat Yavneh and the author of “Judaism Alive” (Gefen Publishing, 2015).