Ki Theitzei: the Hidden 

The parsha is filled with brief instructions. To the modern, some are appealing : Do not return the runaway slave to the master, the worker must be paid in time, do not demean the impoverished. Others are difficult: Wipe out Amalek, levirate marriage. Others are unexplainable: do noy wear wool and linen together. Some of the laws are justified by recalling the history of slavery.  Others are demonstrations of retribution intended to dissuade like the stoning of the alcoholic, gluttonous son. Throughout the parsha, I have a sense of the hidden.  The instructions are preventative, we do not want the unseen to emerge. 

The traditional Midrashic interpretation of the first three sections demonstrates this idea. The opening set of passages are interpreted  in the Midrash Tanchuma ( alluded to by Rashi)  in a causal manner.  Referring to the irresistible captive:

 אִם נְשָׂאָהּ סוֹפוֹ לִהְיוֹת שׂוֹנְאָהּ, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר אַחֲרָיו "כִּי תִהְיֶיןָ לְאִישׁ וְגוֹ'", וְסוֹפוֹ לְהוֹלִיד מִמֶּנָּה בֵּן סוֹרֵר וּמוֹרֶה, לְכָךְ נִסְמְכוּ פָּרָשִׁיּוֹת הַלָּלוּ

if he does marry her, in the end he will hate her, for Scripture writes immediately afterwards, (v. 15) “If a man have two wives, one beloved, and another hated, etc.” and ultimately he will beget a refractory and rebellious son by her (v. 18). It is for this reason that these sections are put in juxtaposition (Midrash Tanchuma, Ki Teitzei 1) 

There is an implied sequence: The soldier  realizing his mortality, reassessing priorities, inflamed by aggression, buoyed by survival - captures a fantasy, a dream of lust (and perhaps love). Perhaps the  prescribed the month of abstinence, replacing the seductive clothing, cutting the enticing hair and salon nails, will prevent the error of marrying this woman who saved her life by the only means available to her: seduction.  The Torah implies that the technique worked sometimes. It is forbidden to enslave such an ultimately rejected captive. 

וְהָיָ֞ה אִם־לֹ֧א חָפַ֣צְתָּ בָּ֗הּ וְשִׁלַּחְתָּהּ֙ לְנַפְשָׁ֔הּ וּמָכֹ֥ר לֹא־תִמְכְּרֶ֖נָּה בַּכָּ֑סֶף לֹא־תִתְעַמֵּ֣ר בָּ֔הּ תַּ֖חַת אֲשֶׁ֥ר עִנִּיתָֽהּ׃ {ס}        

Then, should you no longer want her, you must release her outright. You must not sell her for money: since you demeaned her, you must not enslave her.

Score one for modern sensibilities.( Maybe a half)

The text goes on to deal with the problem of two wives, each of  whom has an heir. Love for the wife cannot eclipse the actual birth order  (cf Abraham and Isaac [Ishmael]). The rules surpass sensibility. 

The next section deals with the wayward child, stoned for  intractability. In the Midrashic interpretation, this is the end result of the captive marriage that opened the parsha. It is what emerges from disregarding the warnings. Here are two alternative explanations: one made up, the other derived from Midrash. 

The law of the wayward child is a way to eliminate this troublesome firstborn of the detested wife: declare him a סוֹרֵ֣ר וּמֹרֶ֔ה,  deviant and rebellious.  This leads to a sanctioned filicide (child killing). It can all work out if you are desperate and despicable enough. 

The The Midrash Tanchuma at this point,  relates the story of  Avshalom.  Avshalom was the son of Maacah,  whom David had taken as a wife as a spoil of war. Avshalom named his daughter  after his mother. Perhaps he carried some of his mother's resentment for her captivity and the slaughter  of her people.  Avshalom  attempted a coup; he would replace his father, David, as king.  There is no greater turning away and rebellion. Absalom, fleeinf David's army, is caught by his hair ( an echo of the hair that the captive woman must shave off). This rebellion of this son may have stemmed from some allegiance to his mother's tribe and defense of her honor. The rebel son is the offspring of his captive mother.

Soon after this (semi-imagined) narrative of lust, legacy and rebellion, the Torah turns to loss and denial. 

לֹֽא־תִרְאֶה֩ אֶת־שׁ֨וֹר אָחִ֜יךָ א֤וֹ אֶת־שֵׂיוֹ֙ נִדָּחִ֔ים וְהִתְעַלַּמְתָּ֖ מֵהֶ֑ם הָשֵׁ֥ב תְּשִׁיבֵ֖ם לְאָחִֽיךָ׃

If you see your fellow Israelite’s ox or sheep gone astray, do not ignore it; you must take it back to your peer. 

The extra  וְהִתְעַלַּמְתָּ֖ מֵהֶ֑ם do not ignore it;  evokes the possibility of simply not getting involved. The stray animal was lost before, why change its status? Maybe one should treat this situation like the seductress, best to ignore it. The Torah says otherwise. Do not overlook doing the right thing: attempt to return the stray. The correct reaction is hidden in confusion and conflicting tasks and interests. This sentence is training for making the best choice.

 It also recognizes that the right choice can be buried in a mass of conflicting interests. This is a seduction into the belief that the following laws, like shatnez (the prohibition of wearing wool and linen together)  also contain a hidden core of rectitude. Maybe. Maybe that is not the point. 

Our actions and temptations are too complex to understand. The Torah offers guidelines. Thinking about them is not simple, either.