PARSHAT MISHPATIM
(5768)
LOVE YOUR ENEMY?
“When you encounter your enemy’s ox or ass wandering, you must take it back to him.” (Exodus 23:4)
There is a question I love to ask young people in my study sessions. Suppose you found the lost object of your enemy. For example, suppose you found the president of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s wallet with some cash in a parking lot. Would you return it? Would you take out the cash and then return it? Or would you keep it? The answer can be found in this week’s Torah reading.
The Torah teaches that we must return our enemy’s lost object. So many secular thinkers are convinced that the Torah is merely a human document which reflects a bunch of ancient laws and ideas. And yet, now and again, one law jumps out and teaches us that the Torah is something more; it is touched with the divine. The Torah came into an ancient primitive society and gave them insights that we still need to learn today. One of the most important insight; even our enemies are created in the image of God.
Part of how we fight our wars today is by dehumanizing our enemies. We make up names which detract from their humanity – “krauts, japs, gooks, blanketheads.” The Nazis did not come to power and immediately start killing Jews. Rather they passed a series of laws which slowly stripped Jews of their rights and their humanity. Eventually people began to see the Jews not as human beings but as mere vermin. It is small wonder that Nazi officers could murder Jews by day and go home to hug their families, read their poetry, listen to Brahms and Beethoven by night. The Jews in the eyes of the Germans were no longer human.
It is so easy to fight your enemy by taking away their humanity. They cease to be human, lose that dignity of being created in the image of God, and thus we can fight them without feeling any remorse. But the truth is, even our enemies are created in the image of God. We must fight Mr. Ahmadinejad’s cruel plans to build nuclear weapons to destroy Israel, while never forgetting that he also was created in the image of God. Central to the Torah is the recognition of the humanity of our enemies.
Recognizing the humanity of our enemies does not mean we have to love our enemy. The Torah does not command us to do what is emotionally impossible. I have no interest in loving Hitler. Nor does the Torah command us to “turn the other cheek.” This New Testament saying was part of a world view that saw the immediate coming of the Messianic age. For those of us who believe we live in a real world with real enemies, we must do what we must do to defend ourselves. “If someone comes to kill you, rise up and kill him first,” the Talmud teaches. But never forget that even the person who is coming to kill you is a child of God, created in the image of the Almighty.
By recognizing the humanity of our enemy, we are recognizing that people can change. The Talmud tells the story of Rabbi Meir who prayed for the death of a cruel man who made his life miserable. Meir’s wife Beruriah heard his prayer and reprimanded him. “Do not pray that he die. Pray that he change his ways. The Bible does not say that sinners should be removed from the earth, but that sin be removed from the earth.” Enemies can change. In the Avot of Rabbi Natan, it teaches “who is strong? Whoever can turn an enemy into a friend.”
One of the greatest teachings in Judaism, which rabbis love to repeat, is the passage from the Talmud about the crossing of the Red Sea. After the waters swept over the Egyptians, the Israelites sang the song of the sea. The angels in heaven started to sing along, but God stopped them. “My children are drowning in the sea. How can you sing?” Even the evil Egyptians were God’s children.
Few of us go through life without making enemies. I once saw a sign on someone’s desk, “Friends may come and friends may go, but enemies accumulate.” Certainly we must do whatever is necessary to protect ourselves from those who would harm us. But we must never forget, even those enemies were created in the image of God. That is why we must return our enemy’s lost object.
PARSHAT MISHPATIM
(5767)
VALENTINE’S DAY
“If the slave declares, I love my master, and my wife and children, I do not wish to go free, his master shall take him before God. He shall be brought to the door or the doorpost, and his master shall pierce his ear with an awl; and he shall remain his slave for life.” (Exodus 21:5-6)
Should a Jew celebrate a secular festival named after a Christian saint? In general, my wife and I have not celebrated Valentine’s Day, seeking other times to proclaim our love for one another. But the February 14 celebration of love is so overwhelming, thanks partially to the media, the greeting card industry, flower and chocolate merchants, and restaurants, that it is hard to avoid the day. No wonder people without love in their lives often go into a deep depression this time of year. Some people seek love, not out of a real commitment but so they will not be alone on Valentine’s Day.
Perhaps it is worthy to think about what love really means. I am convinced that part of the high divorce rate in contemporary life is we do not really understand the meaning of love. We believe love is about romance, candy, flowers, walks on the beach, a deep sexual attraction, and infatuation with another human being. We believe love is a kind of magic. This is the message of the movies, television, novels, and popular music. We believe that some enchanted evening we will see a stranger across a crowded room, and that is love. This whole misunderstanding sees love as something that focuses on ourselves, our needs. We want to be in love because love makes us feel good.
There is an old Yiddish saying, “He and she were in love, he with himself, she with herself.” This is the problem with love as we understand it in our contemporary life. Love becomes a way of meeting our needs. Focusing on ourselves is the exact opposite of love. Love is not about our needs but the needs of the other. When we love someone, we need to see them, put ourselves aside, and focus on them. Such love is often lacking in our “what’s-in-it-for-me” age.
To love another, we must first know another. The Bible speaks of the first sexual relationship in history, the encounter between Adam and Eve. “Adam knew his wife Eve.” (Genesis 4:1) Why the verb “know?” It is a hint of the human ideal. Love is about knowing the other, seeing who they are and what their needs are. How do you love someone the first time you see him or her across a crowded room? Can you truly see such a person?
Love also means to put one’s self aside to focus on the other. I love the image from kabbala. God in order to create the world, practiced tzimtzum, self- contraction. Only if we contract ourselves do we make room for the other. That is why the Rabbis of the Talmud taught that true love is non-conditional; we do for the other with no expectations for ourselves. Only love where our own needs are set aside is love that can last.
There is an example in our Torah reading. The Torah was given at a time when slavery and servitude were the norm. (Thank God we are past that time, at least in most of the world.) A servant was set free after seven years. But if the servant loved his master, or if he had a wife during his servitude and wanted to stay with her, he could do so. His ear was pierced at the door by an awl. (Whenever I see a man with a pierced ear, I am reminded of the slave who does not want to go free.) He would continue his servitude forever. (According to later Rabbinic interpretation, until the Jubilee year.)
As archaic as this ancient law sounds, there is something very modern. Love means giving up freedom. When a person loves another person, that person must put aside his or her own needs to be present for the other. True love involves sacrifice. We have lost that sense of giving up the self to serve the other.
On Valentine’s Day, if you want to celebrate it, do more than buy a box of candy or a card. Look at the one you profess to love. Then ask yourself, “What does this person need, and how can I put aside my needs to meet their needs?” By the way, there were actually three different men known as St. Valentine; each became a martyr serving the people they loved. Putting one’s self aside for the needs of another is a love worth celebrating.
PARSHAT MISHPATIM
(5766)
OTHER PEOPLE’S MONEY
“If a man delivers to his neighbor an ass, or an ox, or a sheep, or any beast, to keep; and it dies, or is hurt, or driven away, no man seeing it; then shall an oath of the Lord be between them both, that he has not put his hand to his neighbor’s goods; and its owner shall accept this, and he shall not make it good.” (Exodus 22:9-10)
A few years ago I was visiting my brother’s vacation home up in the mountains of the Poconos. I was driving a rental car which we left parked in my brother’s driveway. That night a huge storm ripped through the mountain community. A tree fell over and smashed the car. So began an adventure with insurance and rental companies. (I have since learned to always buy the comprehensive insurance rental companies offer.)
Nobody would pay for the damages. My insurance company said it was not covered because it happened out of state. The rental company said that if my insurance would not pay, I was personally responsible. I certainly would not ask my brother. It took a lawyer and a year of negotiations to settle the case.
The case raises some fascinating questions. If my property is damaged while on someone else’s premises, who is responsible? The Torah and eventually the Talmud, in days before insurance had to deal with this. The Talmud teaches that there are four possibilities, what they call arba shomrim, four bailments. Suppose my car is damaged while parked on someone else’s property. Was my car on the property because the owner was allowing me to use the space for free? Or was it on the property because the owner was leasing me the space? Was the owner leasing my car, therefore gaining benefit from its use? Or was the owner borrowing my car, without payment to me? The law will vary in each one of these four cases.
Obviously the Torah does not speak of cars. It does talk about animals. What are my obligations in caring for someone else’s animals? (The issue comes up in the hit movie Brokeback Mountain, currently playing. Some sheep were destroyed while the herders hired to watch them were doing something else; I will not discuss what they were doing here. I recommend the movie.) The details are not as important as the principle that I am responsible for my neighbor’s property. The degree of responsibility depends on the situation. But if I borrow my neighbor’s car and have an accident, I need to pay, even if it is not my fault. (That is what the rental car company was trying to tell me.)
This is one example of how this week’s portion expands on the principles in the Ten Commandments. The Ten Commandments says “Thou shall not steal.” The portion goes into detail; what are the obligations towards another person’s property? The Torah does recognize property rights. And it recognizes that building a just civil society requires that we respect the property of others.
We live in a more complicated age today. Property is more than money and goods. There is intellectual property. Do I have the right to copy someone else’s material for my personal use without purchasing it? Do I have the right to copy software without paying the proper licensing fees? Do I have the right to download music or movies without permission? (Most of our teens believe they have the right to do all of these things.) As a rabbi, do I have the right to use someone else’s material in a sermon or lecture without proper attribution and permission? I am a member of the National Speakers Association. On a regular basis, we receive warnings that it is an ethical violation to use another speaker’s material without permission.
Our property also includes our mental understanding. For example, it is forbidden to walk into a store and deliberately lead the storekeeper on if we have no intention of buying? It is considered stealing, literally stealing someone’s mind. We are forbidden to deliberate lead someone astray.
Stealing is obviously forbidden. What is more difficult is setting up a just society where people respect each other’s property. That is the goal of this week’s portion. And that is the goal of any just society.
PARSHAT MISHPATIM
(5764)
THE WORLD OF REFLECTION
"When an ox gores a man or a woman to death, the ox shall be stoned and its flesh shall not be eaten, but the owner of the ox is not to be punished." (Exodus 21:28)
This week the Bible introduces numerous civil laws, including the law of torts (damages). The classic example of a tort is the ox that gores. What is the owner's liability? There are actually two categories of ox. One is called the shor tam (innocent ox), a gentle ox with no history of goring. The other is the shor muad (warned ox), an animal with a history of violent behavior. The damages the owner must pay are far more severe in the latter case.
The Talmud develops this idea further. Certain animals are always warned that they have the potential to cause damage. If one owns a lion, a bear, a poisonous snake, one cannot claim that their animal was always gentle in the past and therefore their liability is limited. Today we would say that if someone owns a pit bull, they better keep that dog under control, or else be prepared to pay full damages for any injury their animal causes. Certain animals are innocent and certain animals are warned.
Now comes a fascinating and insightful law on what it means to be a human being. The Talmud goes on to say adam muad l'olam (humans are always warned) (Sanhedrin 72a). A human being, from the moment he or she hits adulthood, is fully responsible for all actions. This is one of the key ways we humans stand above the animal world. We assume full liability for any damage we may cause from everything we do. Being a human means living in a world of other humans. It means reflecting on how our actions affect the people with whom we come into contact, or even the people influenced by our behavior. To be human is to live in a world of reflection.
Two weeks ago I spoke about the World of Action, the lowest of four worlds in the kabbalistic outlook. Last week I spoke about feelings, the World of Passion is the second of the four worlds. I often call the third world the World of Reflection, the world where we put our appetites aside and see how our actions affect other human beings. This is the world where we become fully human. To be a human is to see other humans, and know how everything we do affects other people. To be human is to move beyond ourselves and our own selfish needs. We become human when we truly see others.
Rabbi Harold Kushner tells a beautiful story about a little boy who was very late coming home from school. When he finally arrived, his parents began yelling at him. "Where were you? We were very worried." The boy explained, "My friend received a brand new bicycle and he was so excited. Then on the way home he hit a tree and the bicycle broke. I stayed with him to help him." The parents, still angry, replied, "How could you help him? You don't know anything about fixing bicycles." So the boy said, "I didn't stay with him to help him fix the bicycle. I stayed with him to help him cry." This is the meaning of being human, when we stay with one another to help each other cry.
The Talmud teaches that "Humans are always warned." We can never say that we did not know how our actions would affect others. As humans, we live in a web of relationships - with family, with neighbors, with business acquaintances, and with total strangers. Everything we do affects those relationships. We need to look beyond ourselves and see what our fellow humans need. This means truly seeing the other, being able to laugh with them and cry with them, to understand what they need.
I teach a group of high school students each week in my office. We were talking about love, so I asked them what it means "to fall in love." They struggled with an answer. Then I told them, what many of us see as love is really self-love. We look for someone who meets our needs - our need for companionship, for status, sadly during the high school years, for sex. We want to fall in love to feel good about ourselves. We say we are in love, but we are focused on ourselves. This is not real love. True love is when we put ourselves aside and totally see another human being, and then act in a way that meets the needs of the other. Love begins with reflection. We cannot love the other until we truly see the other. And we cannot see the other until we stop seeing only ourselves.
It is the ability to live in a World of Reflection that causes us to rise above the animal within us. Until then, too often we are like that Biblical goring ox, hurting others without knowing what we are doing, and then claiming innocence. That is why the Talmud teaches, to be human is to know better. Let us raise ourselves up to live fully in the World of Reflection.
PARSHAT MISHPATIM
(5763)
ABORTION
"If men strive together and hurt a woman with child so that her fruit depart, and yet no harm follow, he shall be surely fined. According as the woman's husband shall lay upon him and he shall pay as the judges determine." (Exodus 21:22).
Dare I speak about abortion! Whatever I might say would engender controversy. And yet, as we passed the 30th anniversary of Roe vs. Wade, it is important to speak on the issue.
I disagree with those in the pro-life camp who claim that abortion is murder. I also disagree with those in the pro-choice camp who claim that a woman can make any choice regarding her own body. Is it possible to stake out a middle ground?
Allow me to share some words from my book God, Love, Sex, and Family:
My belief, which grows from my reading of the Bible and Jewish tradition, is that abortion is not murder as the sixth commandment understands it. Abortion may be a serious moral act which ought to be discouraged or forbidden. But it is not murder.
My proof is the statement in the Torah that explicitly forbids a monetary fine for the perpetrator of murder. (See Numbers 35:31) The Bible always separates the realm of property from the realm of life and death. According to the Torah, if a man causes a woman to miscarry through his negligence, he must pay a fine. (See Exodus 21:22) If it were murder there would be no such fine. The damage from the loss of her potential child is real, and the woman and her husband must receive compensation. But it is not murder.
If abortion were murder, we would justified in treating women who seek abortions precisely as we treat murderers. Are pro-life sympathizers ready to sentence physicians who perform abortions to life imprisonment, or even the death penalty? Obviously even the most strident anti-abortionists stop short of calling for such drastic measures.
To say that abortion is not murder does not mean that it is justified. There are many reasons why abortion may be deemed improper, immoral, or even possibly made illegal. One can argue that the developing fetus, even if not a full human being with the right of protection through the laws of homicide, still is an entity of sufficient worth to merit some kind of protection. Ronald Dworkin, professor of law and outspoken abortion rights advocate from the pro-choice camp, has written:
"Even though a fetus is not a constitutional person, it is nevertheless an entity of considerable moral and emotional significance in our culture, and a state may recognize and try to protect that significance in ways that fall short of any substantial abridgment of a woman's constitutional right over the use of her own body. A state might properly fear the impact of widespread abortion on its citizens' instinctive respect for the value of human life and their instinctive horror at human destruction or suffering, which are values essential for the maintenance of a just and decent civil society. A political community in which abortion became commonplace and a matter of ethical indifference, like appendectomy, would certainly be a more callous and insensitive community, and it might be a more dangerous one as well."
(Ronald Dworkin, "The Great Abortion Case," New York Review of Books, 36, 11 (June 29,1989), p. 52).
Even if the fetus is not a full living being, it has a moral status which deserves some degree of protection, if for no other reason than to prevent further callousness towards life in our society. That is the reason that our Biblical traditions strongly frown on abortion.
However, one could possibly argue from the liberal point of view that the fetus a mere limb of the mother's body. If so, can she not deal with it in accordance with her wishes? Can we say that the abortion of the fetus a non-event to which no moral or religious judgment can be made? This has been the contention of many in the pro-choice camp. Over and over, I hear the comment, "A woman has the right to do what she wants with her own body."
The Torah recognizes no such right. Our bodies do not belong to us to do as we please. The Torah forbids us from tattooing our skin or making marks in our body. (Leviticus 19:28) The rabbis taught that a man cannot tell his fellow, "if you injure me you will not be liable." (Baba Kamma 8:7) Our bodies are on loan from God, and God's will for us must be the fundamental consideration for any decision about our body.
The fetus may not be a full life, but it is an entity of sufficient moral value that it deserves protection. It is potential life. There are certain limited occasions when abortion is permitted or even required, because carrying a pregnancy to term is a threat to the mother's life or health. Nonetheless, the Bible speaks of the centrality of the commandment "be fruitful and multiply." God designed a woman's body to carry that pregnancy to term and give birth to a child. To terminate that pregnancy for any but the most serious reasons is to frustrate God's designs.
PARSHAT MISHPATIM
(5762)
FOUR ATTITUDES TOWARDS MONEY - PART 1
"If a man steal an ox or a sheep and kill it or sell it, he shall pay five oxen for an ox and four sheep for a sheep."
(Exodus 21:37)
Over the next two weeks I would like to share some thoughts taken from my new book The Ten Journeys of Life.
As we go out into the world of business and work to provide for our families, much of our success depends upon our attitude toward money. There is a famous passage in Pirkei Avot which describes four approaches toward money. Let us explore these four attitudes in reverse order, from lowest to highest importance.
The Avaricious Mind-set
"What is yours is mine, and what is mine is mine, this is a wicked person." Some people are never satisfied with what they have. They try to seize the property of their fellow human beings.
The Talmud teaches, "Who is rich? Whoever is satisfied with their portion" (Avot 4:1). Unfortunately, some people are never satisfied. It often begins with coveting the possessions of our fellow humans, a desire forbidden by the last of the Ten Commandments. Eventually it leads to activities aimed at taking that which legitimately belongs to others. It may involve cheating or even stealing to acquire illegitimately that which belongs to others.
The Torah is filled with laws forbidding activities to acquire another=s property in an illegitimate manner. "You shall not steal; you shall not deal deceitfully or falsely with one another" (Leviticus 19:11). "You shall not defraud your neighbor. You shall not commit robbery. The wages of a laborer shall not remain with you until morning" (Leviticus 19:13). "You shall not falsify measures of length, weight or capacity. You shall have an honest balance, honest weights, an honest ephah and honest hin" (Leviticus 19:35B36).
In the Bible, the penalty for stealing is to return the stolen object, together with a fine equal to the amount stolen. "He [the thief] must make restitution; if he lacks the means, he shall be sold for his theft. But if what he stole . . . be found alive in his possession, he shall pay double." (Exodus 22:2B3).
However, if the thief steals oxen or sheep and slaughters them, he shall pay four or five times the value of the animal. Why is the penalty so much harsher for oxen and sheep? One must remember that these biblical laws developed during a historical period when the Israelites were shepherds. By stealing and slaughtering animals, thieves were literally taking away their victims' livelihoods. If the highest form of charity is to help someone earn a living, the lowest form of stealing is to prevent someone from earning a living.
This is reflected in numerous Torah laws. It is forbidden to remove someone's landmark (Deuteronomy 27:17). Later rabbinic law interpreted this as a prohibition on unfair competition, deliberately trying to force someone out of business. A lender cannot take the millstone as pledge on a loan to someone who owns a mill because the worst form of thievery is to steal someone else=s livelihood.
The Idealistic Mind-set
"What is mine is yours, what is yours is mine,= this is an ignoramus." Many idealistic people see the solution to inequalities of wealth in removing private property altogether. "Let everybody work for everybody; what is mine is yours and vice versa. Let us all work for the common good and share our income with one another." As Karl Marx put it, "From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs."
In theory it sounds wonderful. In practice, history has shown that it does not work. In Communist Russia, such socialism was the basis of an entire society. It led to corruption, inefficiency and eventually the breakdown of an entire economy.
Such an idealistic view of money may work in smaller, self-selecting communities. Families function by sharing financial resources among family members. The kibbutz in Israel was founded on shared wealth, with everybody working for the common good and sharing property. Today even kibbutzniks are discovering that humans beings may work hard for themselves and their immediate families but, unless they are extremely idealistic, they are less likely to work hard for the common good.
My oldest friend learned this lesson the hard way. He was part of a communal village in Israel, with all salaries going into a common fund and each family drawing equally. This extremely idealistic form of economy lasted only a few years. Soon, anger and resentment entered communal life. People felt that others were not carrying their full weight; some were drawing benefits without contributing as much as they were capable to the common good. Eventually the village restructured its entire economy, with each family keeping its own salary and paying taxes for common needs.
Socialist approaches to wealth fail because they do not consider the reality of human nature. We humans have a yetzer hara (an evil inclination) and a yetzer hatov (a good inclination), and we will do whatever is necessary to fulfill our own appetites, but working for the common good does not come naturally. A more realistic approach is to encourage individuals to provide for themselves and their families and to accumulate as much wealth as possible. Only then can they learn to share what they have acquired through their own hard work.
(To be continued Terumah 5762.)
PARSHAT MISHPATIM
(5761)
STEALING SOMEONE'S LIVELIHOOD
"When a man steals an ox or a sheep, and slaughters it or sells it, he shall pay five oxen for the ox and four sheep for the sheep." (Exodus 21:37)
In the Ten Commandments, we have learned that stealing is forbidden. In this week=s portion, we learn the details of this prohibition. What is the punishment for the thief who is caught with another's property?
The Biblical penalty for stealing is to return the stolen object, together with a fine equal to the amount stolen. "He [the thief] must make restitution; if he lacks the means, he shall be sold for his theft. But if what he stole ... be found alive in his possession, he shall pay double." (Exodus 22:2-3)
However, if the thief steals ox or sheep and slaughters them, he shall pay four or five times the value of the animal. Why is the penalty so much harsher for ox and sheep? One must remember that these Biblical laws developed during a historical period when the Israelites were shepherds. By stealing and slaughtering animals, the thief was literally taking away their victim's livelihood. The lowest form of stealing is to prevent someone from earning a living.
This is reflected in numerous Torah laws. It is forbidden to remove someone's landmark. (Deuteronomy 27:17) Later rabbinic law interpreted this as a prohibition on unfair competition, deliberately trying to force someone out of business. A lender cannot take the millstone as pledge on a loan to someone who owns a mill.
Stealing is wrong. But it is one matter to steal someone's property and quite another to steal their ability to earn a living. Human dignity is tied up with the ability to work and provide for one's self and one's family. To rob someone of that ability is to steal part of their humanity. That is why the fine is so much harsher for taking sheep from a shepherd. The same would be true of any action that illegitimately forces someone out of business or prevents them from earning a living.
If taking away one's ability to earn is the lowest form of thievery, helping someone provide for himself or herself is the highest form of charity. Maimonides taught eight levels of giving, with the greatest being giving someone a job, a business loan, an opportunity to provide for themselves and not fall upon the largess of the community. Human dignity is tied up with work; ever since God said to Adam "By the sweat of your brow shall you bring forth bread" (Genesis 3:19), humanity is expected to work.
Helping others earn a living goes beyond acts of charity. We should always use our money as a way to help others provide for themselves. This could mean giving someone a job, particularly someone who is struggling to support himself or herself. It could mean giving one=s business to small business people and entrepreneurs, even if the items may be cheaper on the internet or in mega-stores. It even means being a generous tipper for those who give us personal service, the waiter who brings our food, the taxi driver who transports us, people that clean up our rooms after we use a hotel room.
There is dignity in being a provider. To steal someone's ability to provide is the lowest form of thievery. To help someone else be a successful provider is the greatest thing we can do with our money.
PARSHAT MISHPATIM
(5760)
WHO OWNS OUR BODY
"When a man opens a pit, or digs a pit and does not cover it, and an ox or an ass falls into it, the one responsible for the pit must make restitution." (Exodus 21:33-34)
In this portion we introduce the Biblical civil code. This includes laws regarding torts, the importance of taking responsibility for damage to another's property or person. These Biblical rules are further developed in the Talmud and the Rabbinic codes.
There is one fascinating law regarding damages found in the Mishna, the rabbinic codification of the oral laws. If someone says to his or her fellow, destroy my property and you will not be liable, the person is not liable. However, if one says injure my body and you will not be liable, the person is still liable. (Baba Kamma 8:7) We are allowed to relieve someone of responsibility for damages to our property. After all, we own it, and are free to do whatever we want with it.
We are not free to relieve someone of responsibility for damage to our body. This is based on a profound religious idea. We humans do not own our bodies. We occupy our bodies, we are responsible for the maintenance and well-being of our bodies while we are living. But in an ultimate sense, our bodies belong not to us but to God.
This same principle is seen in another Biblical law. "You shall not make gashes in your flesh for the dead, or incise any marks on yourself: I am the Lord." (Leviticus 19:28) Tattoos are explicitly forbidden in the Torah. The question is why?
Imagine leasing a home. If we bought the home, we are free to paint it whatever color, mark it however we want, as long as we obey local zoning laws. But if we lease a home, it remains someone else's property. We are allowed the normal wear and tear of living in the home. We are not permitted to make permanent marks.
Our bodies are like that leased home. We are temporary occupants. In an ultimate sense, they belong to God. When our time of occupation is finished, we give them back to God as undamaged as possible. This theological idea has powerful implications for how we live our lives.
There is a popular feminist text called Our Bodies; Ourselves. Whatever the value of the content of this book, the title is foreign to the Biblical vision. We have use of our bodies but they are not ours. That gives us a sacred responsibility to treat our physical selves as a loan from God. Minimally, we need to assure that our bodies have adequate nutrition, exercise, sleep, medical care, and the avoidance of stress. We want to keep that body in as healthy a condition as we are capable.
In addition, when we need to decide such difficult ethical issues as abortion, euthanasia, experimental medical procedures, or self-sacrifice to save others, we begin with the notion that our bodies are on loan. We cannot say, "It is my body and I will do whatever I want." This may radically change how we deal with all of these controversial religious issues.
Beyond ethics, if we see our bodies as belonging to God, it helps us develop a deep sense of gratitude for our physical existence on this earth. As Jews throughout the world pray on Yom Kippur evening, "As clay we are, as soft and yielding clay, that lies between the fingers of the potter." From a simple law of torts, we learn the profound religious ideal that God is our creator.