Our Thoughts
Parshat Mishpatim – What Happens After the Applause
Parshat Mishpatim can feel… heavy. After the thunder, lightning and revelation of Sinai, we suddenly land in a long list of mishpatim (civil laws): damages, loans, workers’ rights, responsibility for animals, for property, for people. It’s less cinematic, more contractual. And honestly, that’s kind of the point.
There’s a famous joke that the Torah goes from “I am the Lord your G-d” to “If your ox gores your neighbour’s ox…” in about 30 seconds. The message is clear: spiritual highs don’t live in the clouds. They crash-land into everyday life.
Israel’s bobsled team just qualified for the Winter Olympics for the first time ever. Think about that for a second. Israel. Bobsled. A country known for desert heat, not icy tracks. These athletes didn’t grow up with snow in their backyard. They had to train abroad, improvise, and work within systems that weren’t built for them. No glamour, no natural advantage. Just discipline, teamwork and a lot of behind-the-scenes work.
And that’s Mishpatim.
Judaism doesn’t only care about our “Sinai moments”, the goosebumps, the big speeches, the spiritual retreats. It cares just as much, maybe more, about how we handle money with friends, how we treat workers, how careful we are with other people’s property, how we take responsibility when we mess up. It’s not glamorous. It’s not Instagrammable. But it’s where real kedusha (holiness) is built.
Think about the difference between saying, “Family is everything”, and actually picking up the phone when your sibling calls at a bad time. Or saying, “I care about justice”, and then returning the extra change the cashier accidentally gave you. Big values are easy to declare. Small, consistent actions are harder and far more revealing.
Mishpatim teaches us that being a Jew isn’t only about believing the right things. It’s about doing the right things when no one’s watching. It’s about building a society where responsibility, fairness and care for others are baked into the system.
The bobsled team didn’t get to the Olympics by one dramatic leap. They got there by showing up to practice, again and again, in unglamorous conditions, in places that weren’t “home”. That’s a powerful metaphor for Jewish life after Sinai. Revelation is the spark. Mishpatim is the training.
Where can we bring our big ideals into small, concrete actions? Where can we be more careful, more fair, more menschlich in the everyday mishpatim of our lives?
This Shabbat, we are privileged to enjoy a full Shabbat of soul and song, with our choir enhancing our prayers and lifting the atmosphere in a way that words alone never could.
On a personal note, it has been a real pleasure hearing from so many of you, by email, in shul, and in passing conversations. Those moments of connection are what turn shared space into genuine community, and they are deeply appreciated and cherished.
Sinai was the applause.
Mishpatim is what happens the morning after.
May we wake up from this Shabbat inspired, grounded and ready to take on a new week.
There’s a famous joke that the Torah goes from “I am the Lord your G-d” to “If your ox gores your neighbour’s ox…” in about 30 seconds. The message is clear: spiritual highs don’t live in the clouds. They crash-land into everyday life.
Israel’s bobsled team just qualified for the Winter Olympics for the first time ever. Think about that for a second. Israel. Bobsled. A country known for desert heat, not icy tracks. These athletes didn’t grow up with snow in their backyard. They had to train abroad, improvise, and work within systems that weren’t built for them. No glamour, no natural advantage. Just discipline, teamwork and a lot of behind-the-scenes work.
And that’s Mishpatim.
Judaism doesn’t only care about our “Sinai moments”, the goosebumps, the big speeches, the spiritual retreats. It cares just as much, maybe more, about how we handle money with friends, how we treat workers, how careful we are with other people’s property, how we take responsibility when we mess up. It’s not glamorous. It’s not Instagrammable. But it’s where real kedusha (holiness) is built.
Think about the difference between saying, “Family is everything”, and actually picking up the phone when your sibling calls at a bad time. Or saying, “I care about justice”, and then returning the extra change the cashier accidentally gave you. Big values are easy to declare. Small, consistent actions are harder and far more revealing.
Mishpatim teaches us that being a Jew isn’t only about believing the right things. It’s about doing the right things when no one’s watching. It’s about building a society where responsibility, fairness and care for others are baked into the system.
The bobsled team didn’t get to the Olympics by one dramatic leap. They got there by showing up to practice, again and again, in unglamorous conditions, in places that weren’t “home”. That’s a powerful metaphor for Jewish life after Sinai. Revelation is the spark. Mishpatim is the training.
Where can we bring our big ideals into small, concrete actions? Where can we be more careful, more fair, more menschlich in the everyday mishpatim of our lives?
This Shabbat, we are privileged to enjoy a full Shabbat of soul and song, with our choir enhancing our prayers and lifting the atmosphere in a way that words alone never could.
On a personal note, it has been a real pleasure hearing from so many of you, by email, in shul, and in passing conversations. Those moments of connection are what turn shared space into genuine community, and they are deeply appreciated and cherished.
Sinai was the applause.
Mishpatim is what happens the morning after.
May we wake up from this Shabbat inspired, grounded and ready to take on a new week.
Shabbat Shalom,
Chazan Eitan