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    This week and next we will focus on social justice in anticipation of the verse tzedek tzedek tifdof--Justice you shall surely pursue found in Deut. 16:20. I want to suggest accompaniment as a particular approach to social justice to be found in Jewish texts.
     I also want to urge you to encourage friends to subscribe to this newsletter which they may find particularly helpful for the coming season of teshuva/change. They can go to michaelstrassfeld.com
                        
Michael (mjstrassfeld@gmail.com)
                                             
Intention/kavana for this week
 The weeks after Tisha be-Av are weeks of comfort/nehama. 
This week's practice is to find what will comfort us in the coming weeks. The virus, the election, and so much else seems at stake. The future seems so uncertain. 
How will we comfort ourselves and others in our lives? We need not just comfort foods but comfort practices to help us not  despair in the inevitable ups and downs that are coming.
The melody for this week's song was written by Shlomo Carlebach but I believe was never recorded . I wanted to share it with you to ensure that I am not the only person who knows it. (He did record a different melody to these words).

For me, music is a practice of comfort and can be "a bridge over troubled waters." 
Song:
nahamu nahamu ami yomar eloheichem
Comfort, oh comfort my people, says your God.
Isaiah 40:1


 
To listen to the song

 A word of Torah:
        An underlying principle of social justice can be found in a strange ritual in Deuteronomy chapter 21. The corpse of someone who has been murdered is discovered in an unsettled area. We are instructed to measure from the body to the nearest town and then the elders of that town perform a ritual. Then the elders declare: Our hands did not shed this blood, nor did our eyes see it done.
        The Talmud wonders (Sotah 46b): “Why did the elders make that declaration? Did anyone suspect that the elders were actually the murderers? Rather the elders are stating the victim did not come to us in the city and we sent him off without food. Also, we did not see him and let him go on his way unescorted.”
        First it is clear that no one is suggesting that the elders are the murderers. It is also clear that the murder occurred in a no man’s land. Yet, the ritual exists because there needs to be some sense of responsibility for the murder. Is there some way the elders do bear some responsibility? Perhaps the victim came to the elders in the town and was looking for assistance on his journey. If the elders had refused the assistance (whether food or an escort), they may have increased the danger of the next stage of his travel. In biblical times travel was dangerous because of robbers and there were plenty of unsettled areas. The elders therefore declare that they didn’t fail in their duty to take care of the traveler passing through the town.
        What then is our responsibility to the world around us? What is my responsibility to my neighbors and the people who live in adjacent neighborhoods and in other parts of my city?
        The text teaches we should feel some responsibility and strive to make our society better. Yet, even as we won’t fix it all, we would do well to focus on the last word of our text—le’va-yah—escort. The Talmud continues: Rabbi Meir would say we compel someone to accompany a traveler--kofin le’va-yah from the city for the reward for accompanying a person is without limit. This is a powerful statement. Accompanying someone on the road isn’t just a nice thing to do or something highly recommended. You can be compelled by the authorities to do it. That it is not a choice but an obligation emphasizes the importance the Talmud is putting on accompanying a person.
        While our society’s problems are not about the dangers of traveling from one city to another, I want to suggest that this concept of accompanying remains important. We cannot fix all our problems but at least we can strive to make people feel accompanied rather than ignored. Those most in need in our society often feel invisible. People feel their lives don’t matter. They feel left behind. What if instead there was a sense that we all are accompanied? We all share a neighborhood, a city and a country.
        How could le’va-yah—accompaniment--be better actualized in our society?
   
 


       

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