Of all the laws in the Torah, it is the command to not oppress the stranger that is repeated the most often. Twice in this week’s Torah portion of Mishpatim, and at least 36 times in the Torah as a whole, we are commanded in similar language:
“You shall not wrong or oppress a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” -Exodus 22:20
Who is the stranger and why is this commandment repeated so often?
Rabbi Jonathan Wittenberg, Senior Rabbi of Masorti, recently visited our synagogue to celebrate my tenth anniversary in our community, and in his lunch and learn he explained that the word stranger in Hebrew is Ger, related to the verb laGur, to dwell. The Encyclopedia Mikra’it (Scriptural) defines it in this way: “The meaning of the root gur in Scripture is one who dwells outside the land of their birth. Since migration from land to land is sometimes caused by economic or political troubles, there is an added nuance of seeking one’s livelihood or asylum in another land.“
Rabbi Jonathan pointed out how deeply this word ‘Stranger’ is connected to our modern notion of ‘Refugee’, someone who has moved away from their home for economic or political causes, now striving to rebuild their lives in a foreign culture.
In the world of the Torah, those who were far from home had limited access to legal protections. They were vulnerable and could be oppressed or exploited with impunity. Hence the Torah asserts over and over again that the stranger should not be mistreated, that God cares for the powerless, and we should ensure they are treated with kindness.
Both here and abroad it seems there is a constant protest against immigrants, asylum seekers, and refugees. Politicians using hateful rhetoric to win votes at the expense of those with very few options. I’m no politician, and I don’t offer political solutions, but it seems clear to me that such language, such actions, are in breech of one of the Torah’s most cherished principles. We have a duty to the stranger that we cannot ignore.
The Torah frames this in terms of our own experience – because we were strangers in Egypt, we must help others who are in the same situation. Perhaps the Torah knows that suffering doesn’t always lead to empathy, but can lead to putting up one’s defences, and prioritising your own needs over others’. We are commanded to care. To turn our experience of alienation and suffering into caring for others in the same plight.
The Jewish people have been refugees so often in the long centuries, constantly moving from place to place in search of peace and freedom. Most of us have immigrants in our recent family history – perhaps children on the Kindertransport escaping Nazi Germany, passengers on a boat escaping the Tsar’s army, or whatever your own family history – and it seems to me we should be very mindful that just because those who rally against immigrants aren’t talking about Jews right now, doesn’t mean that they won’t think of us in the same way eventually.
This week is also Shabbat Shekalim, just before the new month of Adar, when we remind ourselves of the half-shekel donation that was given to the Tabernacle and then the Temple at this time of year to ensure it’s smooth running. The Tabernacle was built by volunteers offering their skills and their time, but it was also built and maintained by those giving gold and silver, financial donations to keep the institution going.
There are many ways to contribute to the community and to the world, and giving money to causes we believe in is part of that picture. Every year our community chooses a new Tzedakah project to support starting at Purim time. In the past we’ve supported the Hackney Night Shelter, Solutions Not Sides, and over the last 12 months Rebuilding Nir Oz. This year we are choosing between two wonderful causes, the Hackney Food Bank and World Jewish Relief. Whichever we choose, we are making a statement to the world that we care about those who are struggling, that we care about those who are outside our community, that we want to make a difference.
Shabbat Shalom!