Freedom
This week’s Torah portion, Behar, introduces the economic and agricultural laws of the sabbatical and Jubilee years. These different cycles introduce a period of rest for the land, an interval during which the land is not cultivated and the fields lie fallow, but they also introduce ways to free people from cycles of debt and indentured servitude. A significant portion of Lev. 25 details how to help a family member who, through financial difficulty, is either forced to sell part of his land or become an indentured servant. The Jubilee year, which happens after seven cycles of sabbatical years (49 years, with the Jubilee occurring in the 50th year), is held out at the last resort, the way to free this person when all other routes have failed.
There is much that could be said about the economic vision offered in this Torah portion, which also discusses the prohibition on usury (lending money with interest), both its sweeping social vision and some of its practical challenges. But what struck me when reading the parasha this week was not the economic prescriptions, but rather, their rationale. Speaking about the person stuck in a position of economic slavery, the Torah tells us:
If he has not been redeemed in any of those ways [listed in the previous verses], he and his children with him shall go free in the jubilee year. For it is to Me that the Israelites are servants: they are My servants, whom I freed from the land of Egypt, I the LORD your God. (Lev. 25:54-55, emphasis mine)
Strikingly, the Torah does not say that these people must be freed because slavery is inherently wrong, or something of that nature. Rather, God objects to the Israelites being forced to serve other people - not because servitude is bad, but because they are seeing the wrong master. This logic is repeated at multiple points throughout the parasha (see Lev. 25:41-42).
Here, the opposition is not between servitude and freedom, but rather between different types of obligation. Israel’s service of God is framed through the covenantal relationship, and that relational framework stands in stark contrast to one of economic coercion. God frees the Israelites from slavery, and cares for them in the desert, and this relational history creates obligations that the people cannot escape. But those obligations are rightful, and as such, the experience of service is quite different.
Reading this parasha, I was struck by the continued parallels between service to God and service to family, although unlike last week, the focus is no longer on the Temple priesthood and the particular service of offering the sacrifices. In her fantastic book, The Obligated Self: Maternal Subjectivity and Jewish Thought, Mara Benjamin reflects on these dynamics. She writes,
“In my child, I recognized the one person from whom I felt I could not walk away…to be an obligated self was to be obligated to the law of another: the Law of the Baby.” (Benjamin 2018, 8)
When the Torah speaks of the Israelites as God’s servants, I think it envisions that relationship in similar terms. It is not that the Israelites are enslaved to God, miserable but without other options. It is that in the relationship with God, the Israelites recognize the one figure from whom they feel they cannot walk away. This is what it is to be obligated to God’s laws, to divine service. And, notably, God feels the same towards Israel. Even when the Israelites are disobedient or wicked, God refuses to walk away from the people. This is what it is to be a member of covenant, to be in a relationship of mutually felt obligation.
At times, we may still experience these obligations as restrictive or oppressive. Rarely have I bounded out of bed with delight when my child cries at 3 a.m., and I have certainly grumped about on Shabbat wishing it was a “normal” day so that I could go out with friends to an event that costs money. But this Torah portion reminds us of the freedom inherent in living a life oriented around service to the things we value most. That is what a life of service to God is, in my mind: a life centered around the obligations imposed by our deepest values and best visions for the world. That is also how I understand both the drudgery and exhilaration of parenthood: the opportunity to live a life bound up in the obligation to the people who matter to us most, to the life we feel is the most worth living.
By contrasting servitude to a human master with service to God, this week’s Torah portion invites us into a framework of gratitude. How lucky we are to have these exhausting, messy, beautiful families and obligations in our lives! This week, consider introducing a gratitude practice at your Shabbat table, and invite your children to participate in it. What is one thing they feel thankful for today? Or, encourage everyone to share a “rose, bud, and thorn” from their week: something wonderful (the rose), something difficult (the thorn), and something they are looking forward to (the bud). This parasha invites us to view our lives through a different lens, and to see a world of different possibilities. These kinds of practices are one way to reframe your week, and enter Shabbat in a new mindset.
Broccoli Pasta
Serves 4
The sabbatical or shmita year discussed in this parasha is all about carefully husbanding one’s resources, but also about trusting in the earth’s abundance. While one cannot sow in the sabbatical year (which means one must be careful to stock up grain for the following year, when there will be little to harvest), one can still reap. This week, why not celebrate the agricultural cycles and the abundant produce that is starting to show up on grocery shelves and at farmer’s markets everywhere as we move into late spring and early summer with a verdant broccoli pasta?
Now, I know what you are thinking: we already have a delicious green sauce for pasta and it is called pesto, thank you very much. This is true (and I love pesto!) but there is a whole world of vegetable-based pasta sauces just waiting out there. If your child will accept sauce on their pasta, this is also a great way to introduce them to vegetables in a different form. Blended with butter, spinach, garlic and some lemon zest, this broccoli sauce is creamy and lush, while still tasting fresh and bright, and likely to be acceptable to young palettes.
Ingredients
1 pound broccoli, stems and florets separated
Kosher salt and ground black pepper
1½ cups packed baby spinach
2 medium garlic cloves, chopped
4 tablespoons (½ stick) salted butter
1 tablespoon drained capers
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
2 tablespoons finely grated lemon zest, divided
12 ounces rigatoni pasta (note: this is not a whole box, but if you have a selective eater like me, this is a perfect time to make the whole box and leave some pasta plain)
1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese
Instructions
In a large pot, bring 4 quarts water and 1 tablespoon salt to a boil. Peel the broccoli stems, reserving any leaves, and cut crosswise into ½-inch rounds. Add the stems and leaves to the boiling water and cook until fully tender, about 10 minutes. Stir in the spinach and cook until wilted, about 20 seconds. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the vegetables to a blender; reserve ½ cup of the cooking water. Keep the water at a boil.
Cut the broccoli florets into 1- to 1½-inch pieces. Add the florets to the boiling water and cook until crisp-tender, about 3 minutes. Using the slotted spoon, transfer to a colander and rinse under cold water until cooled. Again, keep the water at a boil.
To the blender, add the garlic, butter, capers, pepper flakes, ¼ teaspoon salt, 1 tablespoon of the lemon zest and the reserved broccoli cooking water. Puree until smooth and bright green, about 30 seconds. Taste and season with salt and pepper.
Stir the rigatoni into the boiling water and cook until al dente. Reserve ½ cup of the cooking water, then drain. Return the pasta to the pot and add the broccoli florets, the broccoli puree, ¼ cup of the reserved cooking water, the remaining 1 tablespoon lemon zest and the cheese.
Serve and enjoy!