The Torah portion of Shoftim continues Moses’ final address to the Children of Israel, who are on the cusp of entering the Holy Land. Like a loving father conveying his last will and testament to his children, Moses encourages, admonishes, and reminisces with the people, preparing them for life in the Land without him.

Life in the desert was G‑dly, characterized by spiritual bliss, with heavenly food delivered daily, a constant miraculous source of water and protective Clouds of Glory.

In the portion of Shoftim, Moses essentially tells the Children of Israel, “Despite your divine, spiritual journey through the desert, I understand that you are only human, and that building a society, a civilization, will require interactions and relationships that will inevitably involve quarrels, disputes, and clashes.” But Moses reminds the people that G‑d has prescribed mitzvot and rules for societies; indeed, there are laws for every eventuality. Though it will be surrounded by and immersed in physicality—agriculture and businesses, jobs and homesteads, life in Israel can and must continue to be G‑dly.

Law and Order

A fair and just court system is a foundational element of a just society. Fair and honest judges maintain law and order, while corrupt judges fuel lawlessness and disorder.

“Do not pervert justice.”1 A judge must treat both litigants equally, not only when delivering a verdict but also while hearing their testimony. “A judge may not accept a bribe” under any circumstances, “because bribery will blind the eyes of the wise and pervert the words of the righteous.”2 Even when a judge has already reached a verdict, or is absolutely confident that a gift will not sway his judgment—even when a judge is about to rule in favor of the one offering the bribe!—bribery remains forbidden. A judge cannot sit in judgment of a person who gave—or even offered—a bribe because he will not be able to maintain his objectivity. It’s simply impossible.

Human nature is such that when someone does us a favor, we want to reciprocate. Even an honest, good person will lean towards someone who gives him a gift.

One of the great Chassidic masters once had two litigants before him when he suddenly stood up and announced, “I can’t explain why, but I feel I must recuse myself. You will have to find another judge.” To the apparent bewilderment of the litigants, the rabbi took his coat from the coat rack and left. When the rabbi came home and hung up his coat, he discovered a bundle of money that one of the litigants had placed there!

The Ashera tree, which Moses mentions as he segues from the need for justice to the sin of idol worship, was an idolatrous tree that the Torah repeatedly commands must never be planted, and existing Ashera trees must be uprooted and destroyed. Rabbi Jacob Ben Asher, the late 13th- and early 14th-century biblical commentator known as the Ba’al Haturim, taught that the numeric value of the word Ashera is the same as dayan she’eno hagun, the Hebrew words for “inappropriate judge.”3 If a judge is appointed improperly—“My brother-in-law needed a job!”—it is as if an idolatrous tree were planted next to the holy Altar! We must be very careful who we appoint as our judges. Our society depends on it.

To Respect and Adhere

The Jewish supreme court—the Sanhedrin—consisted of 71 judges. Any decree issued by the Sanhedrin was binding on the entire Jewish nation. Lower courts were made up of 23 judges, while a local beit din could have only three. Regardless of a court’s size, its judges must always use the Torah as their guide.

“And you shall come … to the judge who will be in those days, and you shall inquire, and they will tell you the words of judgment.”4

Even if the current judge is not like you remember the judges of previous eras, don’t say “I should go to this judge? In my grandfather’s time, I remember what real judges were like. Those were the days! This judge? Ha! I went to school with him. We used to cheat at baseball cards together.” Instead, you must respect the judge because a system of law and order must be maintained. You only have access to the judges who exists in your time.

Furthermore, all litigants must adhere to the court’s ruling: “You cannot turn aside from that which they will tell you, neither to the right nor to the left.”5 You cannot choose to be less meticulous than the beit din, nor can you choose to be more religious than its ruling.

A person cannot say, “I am a great scholar! I know better! Don’t you know who my grandfather is?!” Everyone must follow the court’s rulings, regardless of their pedigree.

Talk it Out

Moses tells the Jewish people that when they enter the Land, they must “designate three additional cities of refuge … ”6 These cities served as safe havens for those who committed unintentional homicide.

The Torah describes the unintentional manslayer as one who “strikes his fellow to death unintentionally, whom he did not hate in times past.”7 In this case, there was no history between the two; it was not a situation where the killer previously had any issues with the victim. It was unintentional.

However, the Torah also recognizes that intentional murder, G‑d forbid, does occur. It’s an unfortunate reality. When people are concerned about their property, possessions, and finances, conflicts with friends, neighbors, and competitors are inevitable. Such conflicts can escalate to the most tragic outcomes, including, sadly, premeditated murder.

How can it escalate to such an extent that it leads to murder, G‑d forbid? The Torah is very clear: “If a man hates his fellow, and as a result of this hatred lies in wait for him, rises up against him, and intentionally strikes him mortally,” then the cities of refuge do not serve as a safe haven for him, and he must be brought before the courts to stand trial.

The Torah teaches us a fundamental life lesson here: If you have a problem with someone, calmly speak with them instead of allowing hatred and resentment to fester and grow, which could one day lead to something terrible. We must at least attempt to resolve the issue.

This, too, is a key ingredient for a G‑dly society—a civilization based on Torah and mitzvot.

Respecting Boundaries

Getting along with our neighbors requires respecting boundaries, both physical and social.

“You must not push your neighbor’s landmark, which your predecessors have erected as border markers, back into his territory in order to increase the size of your own territory—for this is robbery.”8 This verse teaches us not to encroach on someone else’s property and symbolically represents not infringing on others’ livelihood.

If my neighbor runs a shoe store, I should respect the boundaries of their business and not open a competing shoe store right next door. We should ask ourselves: Is this the moral thing to do? Is this the right thing? Is this what G‑d wants of us?

There is a legend that is told about two brothers who were neighbors. Each worked his land growing wheat. One brother was married with a large family, while the other was a bachelor.

The unmarried brother thought that G‑d had blessed him with more than he needed, while his married brother could surely use more. So, he woke up in the middle of the night and secretly moved the boundary markers of his field, giving some of his land to his brother to increase his brother’s property.

In turn, the married brother thought that he was fortunate to have a wife and children, while his unmarried brother would need to impress the matchmakers with his wealth so that he could hopefully attract a nice Jewish girl. He, too, arose in the middle of the night and quietly moved the boundary markers to increase his brother’s acreage.

In the morning, each brother wondered why there was no noticeable decrease in his own field, so they repeated the act the next night. This continued for several nights until one night, they bumped into each other. In that moment, they understood what the other had been doing and embraced each other with love. As the story goes, G‑d looked down and said, “This is a holy place; this is where the Beit Hamikdash (Holy Temple) will be built.”

Campaign Promises

Moses tells the people that there will come a time when they will look around and see that other nations have kings, palaces, and monarchies, and they will desire the same.9

The Torah permits the appointment of a monarch and has many laws and mitzvahs related to the role and responsibilities of the king. In the days of the prophet Samuel, King Saul was appointed as the first king.10

Interestingly, the section discussing the appointment of a king immediately follows the section on idol worship. This sequence teaches us that the first responsibility of the King of Israel is to eradicate all pagan idols from his realm.

One of the most intriguing obligations of a king is that he must write two Torah scrolls—one to be kept in a secure place and the other to be carried with him wherever he goes. When the king is in his throne room or his private residence—anywhere it is permissible to carry a Torah scroll—the king must carry the scroll with him. This practice serves as a constant reminder for the king to follow the Torah.

What is the purpose of the scroll that remains unseen, the one stored away in the treasury? Why does the king need both scrolls?

There is a profound life lesson to be learned from this:

We are all very familiar with the world of elected officials. When running for office, politicians promise the moon.

“When I’m elected, I’m going to do this and I’m going to do that!”

“Vote for me, and I’ll set you free!”

But then what happens? Things are very different once they are elected and have secured their position. If you play back the sound bites from any campaign, you’ll see that the promises rarely match reality.

A Jewish king is required to write two scrolls. One is carried with him at all times, and the other is stored away. And every so often, the king should take the second scroll out of storage and ensure that the one he is carrying—the one he lives and rules by—still matches up. He must make sure that in the course of carrying out his day-to-day royal responsibilities, he hasn’t, G‑d forbid, changed anything that is written in the Torah.

This is a powerful lesson for all of us. As we go through our daily lives, we must regularly check in with the Torah and ensure that we have not deviated from its teachings. We should live with consistency—the consistency of Torah that remains unchanged.

What was the king meant to do with the scroll he carried? He was to read it every day of his life.11 He should never be uncertain about what to do or what a particular law entails because he is always engaged with the Torah.

We should follow this example. Each of us should study the Torah daily, at least the daily Torah portion. The Torah guides our lives, and if we ever face dilemmas or questions, we will always find answers and solutions within it. The king does this, and we should too.

Let us internalize the beautiful teachings of this parshah and infuse the mundane aspects of our daily lives with Divinity and purpose. May we merit to build the ultimate G‑dly society with the coming of our righteous Moshiach—the final Jewish king in the Davidic dynasty—may it come to fruition speedily in our days. Amen.