Mishpatim
Law, Love, and the
Shape of Our Souls
Parshat Mishpatim is often passed over too quickly — dismissed as the “legal” parsha, the halachic laundry list that comes right after the thunder and lightning of Sinai.
We leave behind the fire and sound of revelation and are suddenly plunged into laws about damages, loans, holiday observance, witchcraft, salt shakers, and meat and milk. I am reminded of this general aspect of life whenever the clock hits 6:13... and I think "Mitzvah time!" and consider what mitzvah might afoot. How am I living with my Creator in this moment?
Because that’s exactly the point. Sinai was the wedding. Mishpatim is how we build a life together.
Law as Language of Relationship(24:7)
Na’aseh V’nishma — “We will do and we will hear.” The sages ask, who revealed this secret to My children? The angels were astonished.
What is the secret? It is not blind obedience. Nor is it hesitant delay. It is the order that holds the mystery: Na’aseh — we will do — first. V’nishma — we will hear, understand, internalize — second. The action opens the vessel. The love deepens through the doing.
Two common pitfalls of religious life are easy to spot here.
The first is doing without ever seeking to understand. “Just tell me what to do.”
The second is refusing to do until understanding dawns. “Why should I follow unless I get it?”
Neither is the Torah’s path.
The Maharal (Tiferet Yisrael 29) explains that Na’aseh — “we will do” — is the commitment to act, to obey the Divine will. But this is not mindless obedience. We act not because we are drones, but because the command itself — and more so, the One who commands — matters. It is a relationship, not a rulebook.
Yet V’nishma — “we will hear” or “understand” — is not optional. Because obedience without knowledge is just fear. And God does not want our fear alone. He wants our love.
He wants to be known. Intimately. That is not a weakness — not in God, and not in us. It is the source of being itself.
Our very first experience in this world is not an idea, not a word, not even a choice. It is being held. Loved. Known without having to explain ourselves. That’s much more foundational than “I think, therefore I am.” It’s closer to: “I am held, therefore I am.” Or: “I am loved, therefore I matter.”
To truly do God’s will, we must first hear it, understand it, hold it close. Not because He needs us, but because He wants us. And that wanting, that desire to be known and loved — is not a flaw in the Divine. It is the mirror in which we see His image in us.
That’s why the angels gave each Jew two crowns — one for Na’aseh, one for Nishma.
But when we sinned with the Golden Calf, those crowns were taken back — by twice the number of angels.
Because once we sever the link between doing and hearing, we lose more than action — we lose wholeness. We are no longer b'shalom.
From the Lofty to the Mundane
Why does Na’aseh V’nishma appear in a parsha filled with torts, oxen, borrowing and lending, meat and milk, and the festivals?
Because Torah is not about spiritual moments.Torah is about transforming the mundane.
We are not meant to relate to God through imagination — we can’t conceive Him. But we can reflect Him. We are made in the image of God — and by refining that image, we become the lenses through which the Divine becomes visible.
Halacha — Jewish law — is not an end in itself. It’s a spiritual technology. A set of habits that slowly, sometimes imperceptibly, shape our soul to be more Godlike. Every loan made without interest, every meal prepared in kosher separation, every word withheld from gossip — these are small acts of redemption.
Even separating ketchup bottles from meat and milk, or worrying about which oven to cook in — they seem trivial. But they all reinforce one profound truth: that nothing is too small for the sacred. That even in ketchup and crockpots, we use in a higher calling.
Joy, Ego, and the Shape of Holiness
Halacha builds the long road. The very word means "The way to travel" if I remember R. Noach Weinberg z'l correctly.
It reshapes the self over decades. It is slow. It is deliberate. It is often dry.
And then, there is joy.
The Chassidic masters teach that simcha, joy, is an immediate spiritual value. Why?
Because joy is ego-less. When we are truly joyful, we’re not calculating. We’re not angling. We’re not performing. We’re just open. Present. Awake.
Joy, real joy, is a window through which the Infinite shines.
That’s why halacha and joy are not opposites. Halacha creates the container. Joy fills it with light.
The Whole Is Greater Than the Self
Another secret hidden in this parsha is the plural voice: Na’aseh V’nishma — We will do and hear. Judaism is not fulfilled in isolation.
The Torah was given to a people, not a person. No one can keep the whole Torah alone. We need each other — not just emotionally, but halachically. We need the Kohen, the judge, the farmer, the scholar, the mother, the stranger, the child.
Only together are we a holy nation. And only in that togetherness does Torah reach its purpose — tikkun ha’olam, the repair of the world.
That’s why “love your neighbor as yourself” is the essence of Torah. As Rav Shimon Shkop explains, as we grow spiritually, our sense of self expands to include others. Maturity isn’t loss of ego — it’s the broadening of it to contain love.
The Shulchan Aruch: The Holy Table
Rashi comments on the opening verse of the parsha — “These are the laws that you shall place before them” — give us the source for the name of the Shulchan Aruch, the Code of Jewish Law.
Because halacha is not an imposition — it is a table, a meal, a setting where the sacred is served daily.
And just as a meal isn’t about the fork or napkin, halacha isn’t just about the law. It’s about what happens around it — the human growth, the Divine encounter.
Conclusion: The Long Arc of Faith
But what was the point of saying Na’aseh V’nishma if, forty days later, we danced around a golden calf?
Because nothing is ever lost. The jewellery may have been stripped, but the echo remains. No Jew ever fully loses that moment. The crowns may fall, but the imprint remains.
We fall, yes. But we also rise. We are not perfect. But we are willing. And in that willingness, God gives us His law — not to bind us, but to free us. Not to burden us, but to refine us. Not to control us, but to walk with us.
Na’aseh V’nishma is not the moment of completion. It is the beginning of the journey. And that journey is called Mishpatim — a life of law, of joy, of mess, of meaning.
This is not a list of rules.
This is not a burden.
This is the Torah.
This is the path of becoming.
This is our life.
It's 6:13AM... Mitzvah Time!
We leave behind the fire and sound of revelation and are suddenly plunged into laws about damages, loans, holiday observance, witchcraft, salt shakers, and meat and milk. I am reminded of this general aspect of life whenever the clock hits 6:13... and I think "Mitzvah time!" and consider what mitzvah might afoot. How am I living with my Creator in this moment?
Because that’s exactly the point. Sinai was the wedding. Mishpatim is how we build a life together.
Law as Language of Relationship(24:7)
Na’aseh V’nishma — “We will do and we will hear.” The sages ask, who revealed this secret to My children? The angels were astonished.
What is the secret? It is not blind obedience. Nor is it hesitant delay. It is the order that holds the mystery: Na’aseh — we will do — first. V’nishma — we will hear, understand, internalize — second. The action opens the vessel. The love deepens through the doing.
Two common pitfalls of religious life are easy to spot here.
The first is doing without ever seeking to understand. “Just tell me what to do.”
The second is refusing to do until understanding dawns. “Why should I follow unless I get it?”
Neither is the Torah’s path.
The Maharal (Tiferet Yisrael 29) explains that Na’aseh — “we will do” — is the commitment to act, to obey the Divine will. But this is not mindless obedience. We act not because we are drones, but because the command itself — and more so, the One who commands — matters. It is a relationship, not a rulebook.
Yet V’nishma — “we will hear” or “understand” — is not optional. Because obedience without knowledge is just fear. And God does not want our fear alone. He wants our love.
He wants to be known. Intimately. That is not a weakness — not in God, and not in us. It is the source of being itself.
Our very first experience in this world is not an idea, not a word, not even a choice. It is being held. Loved. Known without having to explain ourselves. That’s much more foundational than “I think, therefore I am.” It’s closer to: “I am held, therefore I am.” Or: “I am loved, therefore I matter.”
To truly do God’s will, we must first hear it, understand it, hold it close. Not because He needs us, but because He wants us. And that wanting, that desire to be known and loved — is not a flaw in the Divine. It is the mirror in which we see His image in us.
That’s why the angels gave each Jew two crowns — one for Na’aseh, one for Nishma.
But when we sinned with the Golden Calf, those crowns were taken back — by twice the number of angels.
Because once we sever the link between doing and hearing, we lose more than action — we lose wholeness. We are no longer b'shalom.
From the Lofty to the Mundane
Why does Na’aseh V’nishma appear in a parsha filled with torts, oxen, borrowing and lending, meat and milk, and the festivals?
Because Torah is not about spiritual moments.Torah is about transforming the mundane.
We are not meant to relate to God through imagination — we can’t conceive Him. But we can reflect Him. We are made in the image of God — and by refining that image, we become the lenses through which the Divine becomes visible.
Halacha — Jewish law — is not an end in itself. It’s a spiritual technology. A set of habits that slowly, sometimes imperceptibly, shape our soul to be more Godlike. Every loan made without interest, every meal prepared in kosher separation, every word withheld from gossip — these are small acts of redemption.
Even separating ketchup bottles from meat and milk, or worrying about which oven to cook in — they seem trivial. But they all reinforce one profound truth: that nothing is too small for the sacred. That even in ketchup and crockpots, we use in a higher calling.
Joy, Ego, and the Shape of Holiness
Halacha builds the long road. The very word means "The way to travel" if I remember R. Noach Weinberg z'l correctly.
It reshapes the self over decades. It is slow. It is deliberate. It is often dry.
And then, there is joy.
The Chassidic masters teach that simcha, joy, is an immediate spiritual value. Why?
Because joy is ego-less. When we are truly joyful, we’re not calculating. We’re not angling. We’re not performing. We’re just open. Present. Awake.
Joy, real joy, is a window through which the Infinite shines.
That’s why halacha and joy are not opposites. Halacha creates the container. Joy fills it with light.
The Whole Is Greater Than the Self
Another secret hidden in this parsha is the plural voice: Na’aseh V’nishma — We will do and hear. Judaism is not fulfilled in isolation.
The Torah was given to a people, not a person. No one can keep the whole Torah alone. We need each other — not just emotionally, but halachically. We need the Kohen, the judge, the farmer, the scholar, the mother, the stranger, the child.
Only together are we a holy nation. And only in that togetherness does Torah reach its purpose — tikkun ha’olam, the repair of the world.
That’s why “love your neighbor as yourself” is the essence of Torah. As Rav Shimon Shkop explains, as we grow spiritually, our sense of self expands to include others. Maturity isn’t loss of ego — it’s the broadening of it to contain love.
The Shulchan Aruch: The Holy Table
Rashi comments on the opening verse of the parsha — “These are the laws that you shall place before them” — give us the source for the name of the Shulchan Aruch, the Code of Jewish Law.
Because halacha is not an imposition — it is a table, a meal, a setting where the sacred is served daily.
And just as a meal isn’t about the fork or napkin, halacha isn’t just about the law. It’s about what happens around it — the human growth, the Divine encounter.
Conclusion: The Long Arc of Faith
But what was the point of saying Na’aseh V’nishma if, forty days later, we danced around a golden calf?
Because nothing is ever lost. The jewellery may have been stripped, but the echo remains. No Jew ever fully loses that moment. The crowns may fall, but the imprint remains.
We fall, yes. But we also rise. We are not perfect. But we are willing. And in that willingness, God gives us His law — not to bind us, but to free us. Not to burden us, but to refine us. Not to control us, but to walk with us.
Na’aseh V’nishma is not the moment of completion. It is the beginning of the journey. And that journey is called Mishpatim — a life of law, of joy, of mess, of meaning.
This is not a list of rules.
This is not a burden.
This is the Torah.
This is the path of becoming.
This is our life.
It's 6:13AM... Mitzvah Time!