One of the aspects of social media that is simultaneously delightful and dangerous (beware the doom scroll) is the ease of discovering new forms of entertainment you may have never thought to seek out before; new bits. Content creators are continually trying to find new and innovative ways to stop us from scrolling past their content in an economy where attention is currency. To that end, I recently discovered a series called Judgy, which features a jabot-clad host who runs up to seemingly unsuspecting New Yorkers to ask them one simple question,
“Can I judge you?”
Without any additional information or follow up questions, the person responds in the affirmative. One person even said, “Please, I’m tired of doing it myself!” The judge asks a second question leading to a confession from the judged, and then a verdict: guilty or not guilty.
I must confess I find the series funny, hysterical even. And while it’s clear that none of the judged guests are strangers, or even approached randomly (there’s an application process), if I suspend my disbelief for a moment, then the premise of this show becomes even more interesting. Running up to random passersby, microphone in hand, with zero context or relationship to them just to ask,
“Can I judge you?”
If that were the case, that the guests on the show really were randomly chosen, the host/judge is given a tremendous amount of power and authority. The kind of power and authority we read about in this week’s parsha.
Parshat Shoftim begins, shoftim v’shotrim titen lecha b’chol sh’arecha, “You will appoint judges and officers in all of your gates.” The verse begins with judges but also includes officers; what is the role of an officer to a judge? The eleventh century French commentator, Rashi, explains that the officer’s role is to carry out the commands and verdicts of the judge, by force if necessary, to ensure compliance with the rulings. In short, the officer is the judge’s enforcer. In the verses that follow, the parsha explains the qualities of a judge: fair, impartial, immune to the temptations of bribes. The text, however, does not expound on the virtues of a good shoter, but Devarim Rabbah 5 teaches that an officer must be virtuous in the same manner as the judge. The former clearly serves at the pleasure of the latter, but who appoints the judges and officers themselves? Who imbues them with authority? We do. Verse 18 says titen lecha, appoint (set) for yourself, which is a tremendous amount of trust in our ability to make this decision.
Keenly aware of the potential dangers that can accompany misuse of this type of authority, the Talmud brings in a teaching from Reish Lakish in Avodah Zarah 52a. Within the context of a discussion regarding idol worship, Reish Lakish teaches that the appointment of a dayan sh’eino hagun, an unfit judge, is akin to planting an asherah, a sacred tree or pole used in idol worship, next to the altar. The Ritva, medieval Spanish commentator Yom Tov ben Abraham of Seville, unpacks the teaching from Reish Lakish even further by stating that God does not stand in the assembly of an unfit judge, just like the Shechinah does not dwell in a place of idolatry. The Ritva’s comment raises the stakes of a proper appointment at all of our gates.
In the context of the parsha, b’chol she’arecha, “in all your gates”, is about municipalities – towns and cities the Israelites will establish in the land of Canaan. The Izhbitzer Rebbe, Reb Mordechai Yosef Leiner reads b’chol she’arecha in a more expansive way. He understands this phrase to be inclusive of cities and states, yes, but also the gates to a person’s soul. He teaches that “your gates” refers to the seven gates of the soul through which a person receives good: two eyes, two ears, two nostrils, and a mouth. Every gate, he explains, requires a cheshbon gadol, a great accounting.
There’s some delicious symmetry happening between the parsha cycle and the calendar. Every year we encounter this parsha which begins with the instruction to appoint judges for ourselves at the beginning of Elul, the month in which we prepare ourselves for Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. The Izhbitzer Rebbe’s teaching is an invitation to cheshbon hanefesh, the process of accounting for one’s soul during the month of Elul. Practically, that means engaging in deliberate self-reflection and examination. This may include asking yourself questions like: Where have I missed the mark this year? Who have I hurt? How have I shown up for those closest to me? Where have I acted in ways I’m proud of this year? What have I let into my gates that needs to be let out?
The liturgy of Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur is clear: it is a time of return, of repentance, and of judgment. Whether or not the idea of God and/or divine judgment is resonant with one’s personal theology, the month of Elul gives us the opportunity, and really, the sacred obligation to act as shoftim and shotrim, judges and officers, for ourselves. The opportunity to notice and account for who we were, who we wanted to be, and who we have yet to become – and to take the necessary steps and actions to live into our ideal selves.
As each of us embarks on this holy process, may we be fair, may we be impartial, and may we be worthy of the accounting of our precious souls.
Marques Hollie, rabbinical student
The views expressed in this D’var Torah do not necessarily reflect the position of Leo Baeck College.