Parashat Ki Teitzei 2024
Rabbi David Baum
This week, we observed the anniversary of 9/11, a day that changed our country forever. There was a pre-9/11 world, and a post-9/11 world.
There are iconic pictures for different generations at these pivotal, world changing moments. For the WW2 generation, I think of the U.S. flag being raised atop Mount Suribachi during the Battle of Iwo Jima in World War II. But for my generation, a generation that came to adulthood in 2001, it was the picture of the three firemen raising the flag at ground zero at 9/11.
The photo called Raising the Flag at Ground Zero, taken by photographer Thomas E. Franklin, became the iconic image of that terrible day. Instead of Marines invading an island, the heroes of 9/11 were the first responders, firemen, and police officers, who rushed into the burning buildings, many losing their lives and then risking their lives afterward by helping to find survivors. But there's an interesting follow up to this story. That iconic flag became a symbol of hope and resiliency in the face of unimaginable tragedy, but it went missing that day.
Another flag was used at future remembrances, but that iconic flag was lost. 15 years later, in 2016, the flag miraculously reappeared in a fire station out of the city. The flag went through thorough testing, both DNA and materials testing, to see if it was the same flag, and it was deemed to be authentic.
A retired New York Police Department who was at ground zero on 9/11 held the flag as it was being packaged to return to New York City. He grabbed the flag, held it up to his face, smelled it, turned and looked to the detective who was there to take it, and said, 'That's the smell that I remember from that day.'
Sometimes, there’s no greater feeling than finding a long lost item, especially one that brought you so much hope and meaning.
This week, our parashah contains more mitzvoth than any other parashah in the Torah. We read about laws regarding female war captives, rebellious sons, marital relations, executions, runaway slaves, nocturnal emissions, no-interest loans, fair weights and measures, and more.
But one law stuck out to me this week - the mitzvah of Hashavet Avedah - the returning of lost objects. There's a famous saying in America, "Finders keepers, losers weepers." Fortunately, that's not a saying in the Torah.
In Deuteronomy 22:1 - 3 we read the following:
לֹא־תִרְאֶה אֶת־שׁוֹר אָחִיךָ אוֹ אֶת־שֵׂיוֹ נִדָּחִים וְהִתְעַלַּמְתָּ מֵהֶם הָשֵׁב תְּשִׁיבֵם לְאָחִיךָ׃
If you see your fellow’s ox or sheep gone astray, do not ignore it; you must take it back to your fellow.
וְאִם־לֹא קָרוֹב אָחִיךָ אֵלֶיךָ וְלֹא יְדַעְתּוֹ וַאֲסַפְתּוֹ אֶל־תּוֹךְ בֵּיתֶךָ וְהָיָה עִמְּךָ עַד דְּרֹשׁ אָחִיךָ אֹתוֹ וַהֲשֵׁבֹתוֹ לוֹ׃
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.
וְכֵן תַּעֲשֶׂה לַחֲמֹרוֹ וְכֵן תַּעֲשֶׂה לְשִׂמְלָתוֹ וְכֵן תַּעֲשֶׂה לְכָל־אֲבֵדַת אָחִיךָ אֲשֶׁר־תֹּאבַד מִמֶּנּוּ וּמְצָאתָהּ לֹא תוּכַל לְהִתְעַלֵּם׃ (ס)
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.
But the mitzvah actually isn't so easy to perform, and the Talmud and law codes go through examples after examples, because sometimes, it isn't so easy to find the person who lost the object, and in fact, you might never find the person, so does the object go to the finder?
There is a line in this passage that is really important - but it highlights the effect of this mitzvah on others:=
לֹא תוּכַל לְהִתְעַלֵּם
It is translated as, you shall not remain indifferent, but the literal translation is: you shall not hide yourself from it.
This line changes the power of this mitzvah - what is 'it' exactly? How can you hide yourself from an inanimate object? I believe the 'it' isn't the item, but the mitzvah itself - returning.
It is probably intentional that we read about this mitzvah during this season, the weeks leading up to Rosh Hashanah. The main mitzvah of the high holiday season is
Teshuvah.
Within that word teshuvah, repentance, is the word, Shuv, which means, return.
My friend Rabbi Jeff Salkin told me a story of when he returned a lost item. A few years ago, he was in a store and he found a twenty-dollar bill on the floor. So he went to one of the salespeople and asked him to announce an ownerless twenty and ask if the owner could please come and claim it. The man looked at him like he was nuts and said: "Don't you think that everyone in the store is going to come running over here?" "Maybe," he said, "but this is what we have to do. Or at least, I will give it to you, and you do what you need to do. But here's the thing, as a Jew, I am obliged to try to return lost objects. That is Jewish law."
So the salesman looked at him, smiled, and said to him, "You know something, I'm Jewish. I haven't been to synagogue in years. And you tell me that's Judaism – to go around looking for someone who lost a twenty? If that's Judaism, I gotta give it one more try."
The 17-18th century Moroccan sage Ḥayyim ben Moshe ibn Attar, in his Torah commentary the "Or ha-Ḥayyim" riffs on the shared root of "hashevah" (returning) and "teshuvah" (repentance). He explains that these verses are really addressing our obligation to "return" Jews who are lost.
We never know what mitzvah will bring a lost Jew back home.
For us, there will always be a before October 7th, and after October 7th. In so many ways, October 7th was the Jewish people’s 9/11: a terrorist attack that not only took so many lives so brutally, but changed our world. Dr. Jonathan Sarna, the leading Jewish historian on American Jewish history, tells a different story of how October 7th is affecting us, and it is good news.
We are seeing the beginnings of an exciting revival in American Jewish life, what one study recently described as “an explosion in Jewish belonging and communal participation that is nothing short of historic.”
Dubbed “the surge” by the study’s authors, this widespread rise in communal participation is evident at every level of American Jewish life and especially among young people and Jews in their prime. An astonishing 43% of Jews, according to the study, expressed new interest in increasing their engagement with Jewish life, and 23% have already taken the first step by attending a class, joining a Shabbat synagogue service, or participating in an advocacy effort. Both Hillel and Chabad report significant increases in turnout for their activities. The Jim Joseph Foundation reports that in general, Jewish students on college campuses “feel a heightened sense of Jewish identity.”
Synagogues and other communal institutions are also much more crowded than before. Jewish day schools and Jewish camps are witnessing enrollment increases. Classes about Israel and Judaism are booming. Young Jews are spurning non-Jewish partners and asking to be introduced to fellow Jews. In short, in the face of heightened antisemitism and attacks on Israel, a large num- ber of American Jews – not all, but a sizable number – are turning to their fellow Jews and seeking to strengthen their connections to Jewish life. This, of course, has happened before in Jewish history: Previous bouts of antisemitism going all the way back to ancient Persia spurred spiritual revivals. So did the rise of antisemitism in America in the late 19th century. That is what sparked the creation of so many innovative Jewish organizations, from the Jewish Publication Society to The Jewish Encyclopedia to Hadassah. The Holocaust, too, resulted in a very significant period of American Jewish renewal. And now it is happening again.”
Returning a lost object can transform a person, and a country. The flag that was returned that day is now hanging in the 9/11 memorial in New York City, at Ground Zero. The flag was presented by the president of the 9/11 Memorial, Joe Daniels, said the following when the flag was finally returned back to where it once proudly flew: "In the darkest hours of 9/11 when our country was at risk of losing all hope, the raising of this American flag by our first responders helped reaffirm that the nation would endure, would recover and rebuild, that we would always remember and honor all of those who lost their lives and risked their own to save others.”
Just as the return of that lost flag became a symbol of hope and renewal for a nation in the wake of tragedy, we too have the opportunity to become symbols of hope and renewal in our own communities. The mitzvah of Hashavet Avedah, the return of lost objects, teaches us about responsibility, empathy, and the importance of not turning a blind eye to the Jewish needs of others.
This mitzvah serves as a profound metaphor for our spiritual journey: no matter how far we have wandered, there is always a path back. We see this today in the wake of October 7th, when so many Jews, previously disconnected from communal life, are finding their way back to Jewish belonging. In times of crisis, the pull to reconnect with tradition, faith, and community becomes stronger, echoing the eternal message of teshuvah—that it’s never too late to return home.
During the month of Elul, when we prepare to return to shul for the Days of Awe, reach out to friends and family who’ve lost their Jewish identity, spark, and connection, find one. It’s never been easier to find your Jewish spark, and become part of the Jewish community. As we learned in our parashah this week and this strange mitzvah, sometimes we aren’t returning lost objects, but we are returning something to people who lost something years ago, and in that process, helping them return to themselves, and us.
And when they enter our space, trembling because they don’t know the words, and are scared, instead of saying, what took you so long, we say, “I know you’ve been lost, but I’m glad you found your back. We’ve been waiting for you. Welcome home.”
Comentários