Parshas Shoftim: Build Me, Don’t Break Me!

"If a corpse will be found on the land that G-d, your G-d, gives you to possess it, fallen in the field, it was not known who smote him, your elders and your judges shall go out …. All the elders of that city, who are closest to the corpse, shall wash their hands over the calf whose neck was broken in the valley. They shall speak up and say, 'Our hands have not spilled this blood, and our eyes did not see.'" –Deuteronomy 21:1-9

"OUR HANDS HAVE NOT SPILLED: Obviously the elders are not guilty of murder. Why then are they liable for atonement? They must atone for the fact that they did not observe the victim leaving the city, and he therefore left without food and escort." –Rashi ibid quoting Talmud Sotah 45b

The Talmud implies that had this victim been escorted, he never would have been murdered. This is quite difficult to comprehend. The Talmud only extends the obligation of escorting a guest to eight feet (four amos) in the city. There is no obligation to walk a guest any further. Indeed the Talmud notes that as long as a guest is escorted in the city itself, no damage will befall him. How do we understand the benefit of this escort?

The Maharal of Prague, as well as the Saba of Kelm, explains that the point of escorting a guest is purely psychological. It helps to lift up the spirits of the person. Had this victim been escorted even for a small amount, he would have felt important, and he would have been empowered. He would have had the strength needed to fight off his attacker. Because he was not escorted, he left the city dejected and deflated. When the murderer attacked him, he had no strength left to defend himself. The elders of the city are atoning for the fact that they did not build this person up. They allowed him to go off on his merry way. The shortfall of the seemingly insignificant act of escorting this person for a mere eight feet was the cause of his murder.

Obviously, the repercussion contained in the parsha is an extreme consequence of not being more caring. Unfortunately the incident of the unescorted corpse is commonplace in society. The unexplained phenomenon of kids-at-risk and the skyrocketing diagnosis of depression can be directly attributed to an apathetic community. We must all look in the mirror and able to say “Our hands have not spilled this blood.” When we hear of yet another person who has intermarried and assimilated, we must be able to say that we have done our utmost to integrate this person into our social fabric. Otherwise we can not say “our hands have not spilled this blood.” If people would be made to feel more welcome and more cared for, the self-help section in the bookstore would dramatically decrease. We would all be happier people.

Let us all begin with one step. Let us say hello to that person sitting on the other side of the bench, or in the seat next to us. Let us smile at the maintenance workers, and at the mailman. Let us invite over the singles and the newcomers to our community. Let’s take just one step in the right direction.

What is the power of a smile and a hello? In the year 2000, the following story was heavily circulated on the internet. Although the veracity of the story is unsubstantiated, the story has touched many hearts. The story is about two friends and is told in the first person by one of the friends:

One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."

I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on. As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his yes.

My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives." He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.

I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before.

We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends. He said yes. We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him.

Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!" He just laughed and handed me half the books. Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends.

When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship. Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation.

I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak. Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more friends than I had, and everybody loved him. Boy, sometimes I was jealous.

Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!" He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. "Thanks," he said.

As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began. "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach...but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."

I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.

"Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable." I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize it's depth.

Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse. G-d puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for G-d in others.

Let us learn from Kyle and his friend, and may we all wash our hands saying “our hands have not spilled this blood!”