Yithro: How we relate to the Law

This parsha has a definite centerpiece: the Ten Commandments: the most widely accepted (catholic?) text in the Bible. Although there is no universal agreement about how to divide the 12 verses into 10 commandments, there is general agreement  that these most significant laws are contained therein. 

These are the statements/laws that were directly communicated to Moses and Israel and  set in stone. The other heavenly instructions have a more complex provenance.

This parsha marks a transition in style. Up until now, the Torah told a story. A few laws had been  mentioned, but for the most part, it was a saga of origin.   After the flood, seven commandments were delivered to all humanity, presumably to establish a world that would not deserve destruction again. Most of these rules are reiterated here in the ten delivered at Sinai.  The tradition that prohibits the sciatic sinew to the descendants of Israel is mentioned as a reminder of the ongoing battle between us and the forces against us. Shabbath, and some of the restrictions related to it, comes up in relation to the Manna. But until now, the major thrust was the story. Now, the style changes to legalisms and details.

Yithro is a story that sets the stage for that transition. It begins with Yithro, Moses’ gentile father in law approaching Moses and the newly victorious and  liberated people. He comes with the wife and children that Moses had abandoned to advance the story of the Exodus. Yithro had been the righteous father, father-in-law and grandfather. He had sustained the abandoned family. Now he was making peace.  Yithro is identified as righteous and wise. He accurately understands and does what needs to be done. He also comes to recognize and bless the Gd of Israel based upon the story told by Moshe.

Yithro, the outsider, sees the problem that devolves from the single lawgiver. The parties to every conflict want Moses’ opinion. This is not “common” law, Moses does not convey a continuation of the customs that have prevailed until his time; Moses is connected to the Gd that brough the people out of Egypt. The greater power dictates the law.

The law of Moses is a law of liberation. The meanings of justice and fairness are revised. There will be a new hierarchy and new values. All this devolves from the single leader who had confronted Pharoah and the system he represented.

Yithro proposes a novel approach. Announce a set of laws.

וְהִזְהַרְתָּ֣ה אֶתְהֶ֔ם אֶת־הַחֻקִּ֖ים וְאֶת־הַתּוֹרֹ֑ת וְהוֹדַעְתָּ֣ לָהֶ֗ם אֶת־הַדֶּ֙רֶךְ֙ יֵ֣לְכוּ בָ֔הּ וְאֶת־הַֽמַּעֲשֶׂ֖ה אֲשֶׁ֥ר יַעֲשֽׂוּן׃

and enjoin upon them the laws and the teachings, and make known to them the way they are to go and the practices they are to follow.

This is a move from intuitive judgment to laws that will be set in stone. Although Yithro’s instincts had directed him toward justice and truth; they had brought him to care for the abandoned family of Moses and to recognize the Gd of the Hebrews – he knew that these feelings were not a reliable guide for all people and , perhaps, they would fail even the nicest of people from time to time. A presented, eventually written, perhaps set in stone, law, seen by all, was a better system. That law would solidify the revolution.

This suggestion for a public code of conduct, which seems to have evolved into the tablets delivered at Mt Sinai, is part one.  Yithro also suggests a judicial hierarchy, a system that diffuses interpretations.

The delivery of the revealed law at Mount Sinai ( the peak of revelation in Thursday’s New York Times crossword) conflates the powerful force that proclaims the law with the sense of fairness that affirms its validity. Ultimately, there is no expectation that the details will be remembered; but the story of the forbidden, erupting mountain climed by Moses will not be forgotten. The power of enforcement has been assigned to an invisible, but all seeing, Gd.

The Ten Commandments are the epitome of editing. They could not contain a detail whose significance would fade with time. This idea is reinforced by the details of altar construction that end the parsha. The subsequent parsha that deals with commercial law requires volumes of Talmud for interpretation.

The Talmud was purposely not written for millennia. The oral nature of the interpretive tradition left it fluid, able to adjust to a changing world. The selectivity of the authorship maintained it true to tradition. Writing the Talmud, printing it, recodifying it, hardened the process. Fluidity became harder. Maybe that is not entirely a bad thing. (Maybe that is not entirely good.)