THE UNCONSCIOUS COMMANDMENT

Alan Rusonik is the director of Education at Congregation Emanu El in Houston, TX
Every day, you and I perform unconscious acts. From the innate act of breathing to that of protecting our young, we are often oblivious to our actions. This is also true regarding acts of kindness. We hear people sneeze and we instinctively say, "God bless you." We see someone loaded down with packages and we instinctively offer help.

I believe that, ultimately, God wants us to perform acts of kindness unconsciously. However, God knows that we cannot begin to perform acts of kindness without conscious thought. God knows that we need commandments to be our moral compass, to guide us in our acts of kindness, so that, in time, our conscious acts become unconscious behaviors or, simply put, part of our character and nature. Thus the Torah contains a myriad of commandments that tell us how to act and how to behave.

Furthermore, these unconscious acts of kindness are no less worthy than acts of kindness that are done consciously. How can we say that helping a person in need instinctively is less worthy than prescribed giving? Both are equally important, and there is no moral barometer that tells us if one act of kindness is greater than another.

Interestingly, there is one commandment in the Torah that bids us to do something unconsciously. It is the commandment of the forgotten sheaf, which is found in this week's parashah, Ki Tetze. In Deuteronomy 24:19, we are told that when the Israelites reap the harvest in the fields, if they forget a bundle, they are commanded not to turn back to retrieve it: "It shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow." The verse ends by stating that we are commanded to do this so that God will bless us in all our undertakings.

The commandment of the forgotten sheaf is an example of an act of kindness that a person performs but is unaware of performing. In other words, unlike the vast majority of the commandments found in the Torah, this commandment is not dependent on a person's free will. Since the nature of this commandment differs significantly from that of most commandments found in the Torah, one can ask the question, What then is the reason for this commandment? In other words, What is the rationale for a commandment the performance of which is itself an unconscious act?

The rationale behind the commandment of the forgotten sheaf is not so much to feed the poor: We should not delude ourselves into thinking that the gleanings we leave behind would be enough to fulfill our obligation to give to the poor. It would be very dangerous to think about a world in which the only gifts to the poor are those that are given unconsciously. In such a world, there would never be enough to satisfy the needs of the less fortunate. On the contrary, it is for that very reason-so that their needs will be satisfied-that we have prescribed measures for giving to the poor.

Thus if the rationale is not to feed the poor, what is it? As stated above, the reason for the performance of the commandments is to build character in the individual. This can be true for both the conscious and unconscious deeds that we perform. The commandment of the forgotten sheaf teaches us-although we are unconscious of this fact-not to be selfish and believe that everything belongs to us. As stated in the Book of Psalms, "The earth is God's and the fullness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein." (Psalm 24:1) The commandment of the forgotten sheaf also teaches us about tzedakah in its most pristine state, whereby the donor and the recipient are unknown to each other, because how can the donor boast about fulfilling this commandment if he or she is unaware of even performing it? Thus it also teaches us humility. Finally, our sages teach us that when a person has no conscious intention of performing a good deed and yet the act is nevertheless considered one, how much more so for the person who consciously performs a good deed? (Tosefta, Peah 3, 8) The point here is that when we read this commandment in the Torah, it should inspire us to perform good deeds consciously, rather than unconsciously. If we recognize that God will bless us when we do good deeds unconsciously, how much greater would our blessings be for the good things we do consciously! If the rationale behind the commandments is to build character, then the unconscious commandment of the forgotten sheaf also has much to teach us.

A d'var torah on the unconscious... Makes a psychiatrists heart sing. These colorful and playful tzedakah boxes from Mallory Serbrin also make me want to sing!

Thoughts from Katrina...

By Margaret Frisch Klein “Prayer invites God to let the Divine presence suffuse our spirits, to let God’s will prevail in our lives. Prayer cannot bring water to parched fields, nor mend a broken bridge, nor rebuild a ruined city. But prayer can water an arid soul, mend a broken heart, and rebuild a weakened will.” (Adapted from Gates of Prayer)

This week’s Torah portion continues with a series of mitzvot, seventy-two to be exact. I want to concentrate on one of them. Deuteronomy 22 begins: “If you see your fellow’s ox or sheep gone astray, do not ignore it, you must take it back to your fellow. If your fellow does not live near you or you do not know who he is, you shall bring it home and it shall remain with you until your fellow claims it; then you shall give it back to him. You shall do the same with his ass; you shall do the same with his garment; and so too shall you do with anything that your fellow loses and you find; you must not remain indifferent.”

It is really very simple. It is about protecting and returning lost property and animals. The last three weeks have seen Americans fulfilling this series of mitzvot. It is impossible to remain indifferent when the scenes of Alabama, Louisiana and Mississippi flash on our television screens. We have watched rescue workers work tirelessly to reunite families. People throughout the country have opened their pocketbooks, their homes, their schools to provide water, food, shelter, and clothing. It is not enough yet, but signs of hope are returning to New Orleans and other hard-hit gulf coast communities.

It is important to remember in our race to help that these are people entitled to all the dignity we can muster. Some have lost everything. As they begin to return to what were their homes, the size of the devastation is becoming clearer. Some are angry. Some are depressed. Some are grateful to be able to salvage a family photo album, a cherished toy, a grandmother’s Shabbat candlestick. But they do not need garbage bags of dirty laundry or worn out clothing. We need to remember that as human beings they are created b’tzelim elohim, in the likeness of God. Then we begin to return not only the physical possessions but also hope, dignity and a new sense of normality.


Other stories are emerging, too. The dolphins from the ruined aquarium that had swum out to sea have been rescued, penguins from the zoo have been sent to a sister zoo, and countless family pets have also been rescued. And even more importantly, the 1700 children separated from the parents are beginning to be reunited.

It is a slow process. Our portion continues in Chapter 24: “You shall not abuse a needy and destitute laborer, whether a fellow countryman or a stranger in one of the communities of your land. You must pay him his wages on the same day, before the sun sets, for he is needy and urgently depends on it, else he will cry to the Lord against you and you will incur guilt….You shall not subvert the rights of the stranger or the fatherless; you shall not take a widow’s garment in pawn. Remember that you were a slave in Egypt and that the Lord your God redeemed you from there; therefore do I enjoin you to observe this commandment. When you reap the harvest in your field and overlook a sheaf in the field do not turn back to get it; it shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow—in order that the Lord your God may bless you in all your undertakings. When you beat down the fruit of your olive trees, do not go over them again; that shall go to the stranger, the fatherless and the widow. When you gather the grapes of your vineyard, do not pick it over again; that shall go to the stranger, the fatherless and the widow. Always remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt; therefore do I enjoin you to observe this commandment.”

Our tradition mandates that we take care of the most vulnerable among us—the widow, the orphan and the stranger. Perhaps this list should read, “The single mother, the mentally challenged, the immigrant.” Our country could learn a great deal from this as we learn from the experience of Katrina. We are beginning to realize that part of the problem with the initial response to Hurricane Katrina is it showed the growing rift in our society between the haves and the have-nots. The ones with means found ways to get out of New Orleans under “mandatory evacuations.” The most vulnerable—the disabled, the elderly, those on monthly fixed incomes whose money had run out and were not expecting another check until the first of the month, those on welfare, over 100,000 without cars—found no way out, and they were the ones who suffer the most.

Pirkei Avot teaches that in a place were no one behaves like a human being, strive to be human! Let us not remain indifferent—not to the personal loss as it continues to unfold and not to the societal ills that contributed to the tragedy. Pirkei Avot also teaches, “the day is short, the task is great, and the workers are sluggish, and the wages are high and the Master of the House is pressing. You are not required to complete the work, neither are you free to ignore it.” Join with me as we work toward the vision of society our tradition commands.

Three strong tzedakah boxes from Steven Bronstein of Vermont.

Ki Teitzei Tallit

Once again, from the studio of Marilyn Jackler...

Ki Teitzei deals with laws of war, inheritance, marriage and divorce, and proper conduct in regard to all of God's creatures.
Band I
Oxen work the fields unmuzzled so they can eat if they are hungry. They are paired with their own kind in order to share their burden equally, as required by Jewish law


Band II
This scene expresses the peace and tranquility which can be enjoyed by the animal kingdom as well as by mankind if the laws of the Torah are practiced.







The neckband of the tallit is decorated with the traditional blessing, hand painted with gold-outlined, crowned, Hebrew lettering.
The tallit is shown on a background of cream wool blend. The tallit tzitziot (threads) are handspun.

A matching tallit bag, tefillin bag and yarmulke are also available. The tallit bag is made of cream wool blend and has a strip of painted silk running horizontally.

The tallit and all items are handmade.