“If a man shall steal an ox or a sheep or a goat, and slaughter it or sell it, he shall pay five oxen in place of the ox, and four sheep in place of the sheep.” (21:37)
Sometimes we subconsciously cause ourselves deep self-inflicted emotional wounds. Ironically, however, exactly what we think is the cure for our unhappiness can actually be the cause of our malaise. In this week’s Torah portion there is a law that on the surface is very puzzling. Someone who steals an ox has to pay back five oxen, but someone who steals a sheep has to pay back four sheep. Our Sages teach us that The Torah has concern even for the self-respect of a thief. Stealing a sheep requires the thief to carry the animal across his shoulders, which is most undignified, and so if he is caught, he only to pay only four sheep, whereas stealing an ox only requires the thief to lead the animal by a rope, which isn’t embarrassing, and so the greater penalty for stealing an ox is five oxen.
So, in reality, a sheep-stealer should also pay back five sheep, but seeing as he has already suffered severe humiliation, the Torah considers that he has already paid part of his penalty. It must be then that his humiliation is not something abstract, but it is so great as to be quantifiable in money. This is rather strange. Because were we to approach the thief at the scene of the crime and suggest to him that he must be experiencing the most terrible humiliation and emotional angst, he would almost certainly reply: “You must be joking! I’m getting away with a sheep! You know what this is worth?!” And yet the Torah, which sees to the very deepest levels of a person’s psyche, tells us that the thief is in point of fact suffering great humiliation, equivalent to the payment of money — otherwise how could his penalty have been thus reduced?
In the book Chiddushei HaLev, it s explained: The fact of the matter is that at the moment of the theft, the theft does feel a tremendous depression and sense of disgrace. He feels cheap. He experiences emotional trauma. And yet he has no idea why he should feel this way. And thus he carries on stealing and stealing and causes himself more and more emotional angst, thinking that another ‘job’ will get him out of his emotional slump. And so the vicious circle spirals down and down. Only by observing the Torah can one be truly happy in this world, because only the Designer understands the true nature of His creations, and only He knows what makes one happy and sad. Only G-d knows which actions a person should stay away from and which he should embrace to live a rich, happy and fulfilled life.
“And on the seventh day you shall rest, in order that your ox and your donkey should rest.” (23:12) Shabbat is the most distant whisper of the World-to-Come, a glimpse into a world beyond time and space that we connect to by refraining from actions that connect us to time and space. G-d gave the Jewish People an awesome power: the ability to infuse the physical world with the spiritual; to elevate the physical world so that it speaks the language of the soul. Why is it important that “my ox and my donkey” should rest on Shabbat? Are they going to go to shul as well? Wasn’t Shabbat given to man and man alone? Rabbi Avraham Moderchai Gur comments: ‘The Torah is telling us here that our Shabbat rest should be such that it creates ripples of spiritual energy that elevate the entire world and felt even by the animals. The Midrash describes how one of our Sages sold an ox to a non-Jew and it refused to work for its new owner on Shabbat because resting on Shabbat had become second-nature to it.When we keep the mitzvot properly — and especially Shabbat — the whole world feels the difference.’
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
