“Ki Teitzei l’milchamah al oyvecha v’natnu Adonai Elohecha beyadecha v’shavita shivyo” When you go out to war against your enemy, God will place your enemy in your hand and you will them them captive. Notice that this is written in the singular. The Ba’al Shem Tov explains that every individual person’s greatest enemy is none other than their own yeitzer hara, their selfish inclination.
(But the Torah tells us here, “V’natnu Adonai Elohecha b’yadecha,” that if you take it upon yourself to go to battle with your yeitzer, you will win. Not only will you defeat those selfish inclinations in yourself, but you will turn them into altruistic intentions.)
And so much of this is a matter of our own intentionality, our own mindset.
Most of the laws in Ki Teizte are connected to this intentionality – commanding us to act morally and ethically in all circumstances. A few examples:
Laws that make moral sense. And then suddenly there is a law about a particular way to engage in harvesting your fields:
In Deuteronomy 24:19 it says:
כִּ֣י תִקְצֹר֩ קְצִֽירְךָ֨ בְשָׂדֶ֜ךָ וְשָֽׁכַחְתָּ֧ עֹ֣מֶר בַּשָּׂדֶ֗ה לֹ֤א תָשׁוּב֙ לְקַחְתּ֔וֹ לַגֵּ֛ר לַיָּת֥וֹם וְלָאַלְמָנָ֖ה יִהְיֶ֑ה לְמַ֤עַן יְבָרֶכְךָ֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ בְּכֹ֖ל מַעֲשֵׂ֥ה יָדֶֽיךָ׃
When you reap the harvest in your field and overlook or forget a sheaf in the field, do not turn back to get it; it shall go to the stranger, the orphan, and the widow—in order that the LORD your God may bless you in all your undertakings.
We had two previous mitzvot, Pe’ah and Leket in Vayikra that were similar (19:9-10):
וּֽבְקֻצְרְכֶם֙ אֶת־קְצִ֣יר אַרְצְכֶ֔ם לֹ֧א תְכַלֶּ֛ה פְּאַ֥ת שָׂדְךָ֖ לִקְצֹ֑ר וְלֶ֥קֶט קְצִֽירְךָ֖ לֹ֥א תְלַקֵּֽט׃
When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap all the way to the edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest.
וְכַרְמְךָ֙ לֹ֣א תְעוֹלֵ֔ל וּפֶ֥רֶט כַּרְמְךָ֖ לֹ֣א תְלַקֵּ֑ט לֶֽעָנִ֤י וְלַגֵּר֙ תַּעֲזֹ֣ב אֹתָ֔ם אֲנִ֖י יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֵיכֶֽם׃
You shall not pick your vineyard bare, or gather the fallen fruit of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the stranger: I the LORD am your God.
What is the difference here in Devarim? The commandments in Vayikra are active – when you are cutting leave some out, while the one in this week’s parsha seems almost accidental! If you overlook some sheaves, if you forget them in the field, don’t go back.
Which begs the question: How can we be commanded to do something that we can’t do on purpose? This is an action that you can’t think about beforehand, it just has to happen. You have to make sure you are not being meticulous in your gathering so that you end up forgetting some sheaves and then actively choose not to go back and harvest them.
There are many times in the Torah when we are told to be kind to the stranger, orphan, and widow and to treat them well. This instance, however, is different. If we were to consciously choose to leave some sheaves behind, we would technically not be fulfilling this specific Mitzvah.
In her book Studies in Devarim, Nehama Leibowitz brings up a story from the Tosefta that I’ll paraphrase here: a pious man once forgot a sheaf in his field, and when he realized it, he asked his son to prepare a sacrifice in celebration. His son asked him why he was so happy about fulfilling this particular Mitzvah. The pious man replied that this is the only Mitzvah that can be observed unconsciously, and all Mitzvot will receive a reward. So, if this Mitzvah can be attributed to someone who didn’t even mean to fulfill it, when you mean to fulfill a Mitzvah it would be that much sweeter!!
This is the forgetting mitzvah. But it actually takes a lifetime of active training of the mind to do this intentionally but subconsciously…
The Sefer Hachinuch (A book that enumerates all of the mitzvot) explains that God wanted the Jewish people to embody every good and moral quality and to be “generous in spirit and blessed in soul.” There is a selfless nature to the act of leaving the forgotten sheaves in your field and only afterward choosing not to go out to collect them. To a certain extent, different from the other mitzvot we mentioned about leaving corners or fallen sheaves for the poor, this Mitzvah is actually NOT about helping the poor at all, but rather about building up the “moral fiber” of the Mitzvah-doer.
That’s what the Torah is asking us to get to. Not all the time. Just this one mitzvah out of 613. That’s the ideal. To live our lives in a way that we are CONSTANTLY building up that moral fiber. To be forgetful mitzvah-doers.
Too often, our lives are trying to eke out every possible efficiency, capture every dollar we can, squeeze activity out of every minute in our day, make sure we don’t miss anything. But the Torah is trying to tell us to actually be LESS מדקדק, less exacting.
To live our lives in a way that leaves it open to the possibility that we may leave something behind for someone else, whether that’s a sheave of wheat or corn, a kind smile to a stranger on the street, or something else entirely.
It is really hard to get to this state, which is why the Torah for the most part commands us to fulfill these other mitzvot of Leket and Peah, actively leaving the corners of the field and the pieces we’ve dropped for others to collect. But for one moment, one verse, the Torah dreams of a world where this all just happens naturally, where kindness and charity and open-heartedness flow through every human being. May it be so, and may it start with us.
Shabbat Shalom
