Parashat Mishpatim: On the Unloading of Burdens

“When you see the ass of your enemy lying under its burden and you think to refrain from raising it for him, you must nevertheless raise it with him!” (Ex 23:5).

This is one of the many laws – dealing with subjects as far-ranging as slavery, the Sabbath and judicial procedure-- in this week’s parsha, fittingly called Mishpatim,”Laws.” This particular law describes a situation in which one comes upon one’s enemy and sees that his beast of burden has collapsed under the weight of its heavy load. The Torah spells out a natural response – not to help one’s hated enemy – and then insists that one nevertheless lend a hand.

The word used here for the “raising” of the burden is azov, which also means “to leave behind.” “Leave behind what is in your heart concerning him,” says Targum Onkelos, an ancient translation of the Torah into Aramaic. “Leave behind at that moment the hatred in your heart concerning him and take apart the burden and carry it with him,” says Targum Yonatan, another classical translation.

The ass, then, is not the only one who needs his burden unloaded! This commandment is also intended to help you relieve or “leave behind” your own burden, the burden of your hatred of another human being. If you have an enemy, then you, like that donkey, are falling down under a heavy burden. Stop and help relieve your fellow ass’s burden, and you will find that your own burden has also been relieved.

In the children’s book Zen Shorts, a panda bear tells a story about two monks who were travelling together. When the older monk stops to help carry an arrogant demanding rich woman across a puddle and receives no thanks for this task, the younger monk becomes angry and remains so for hours. When he finally expresses his anger, the older monk says: “I put that woman down hours ago. Why are you still carrying her?” The question is not whether one is right to feel anger or hatred at another human being, but rather what effect it has on the one who feels the anger or enmity, how such emotions weigh us down.

The point of this Torah law – like many others -- is not only to provide aid for those in need, in this case the animal and its owner, but also to train the person doing the aid, to teach him to act righteously -- despite his hatred-- and thereby to find some relief from that hatred. After all, the Torah could have stated the law more simply: Help your fellow when his animal is collapsing under his burden. The mention of hatred indicates that what is important here to the Torah is not just the net result of aid given but also the state of mind of the giver.

Perhaps it is for this reason that the Torah bothers to tell us the initial thoughts of the one who sees this animal. He first thinks he will refrain me’azov lo, “from raising it for him.” His first thought is that the action will be solely for the benefit of his enemy. No, says the Torah. Azov ta’azov imo. Imo, “With him,” not “for him.” With him. Together. You will both be benefiting, you as well as he.

The Hasidic Rebbe of Piaseczno is said to have told his young students every Shabbat eve, between every single course, the same exact message – “The most important thing in the world is to do something good for another person.” And when you do, do not think that the only person who is gaining from this do-gooding is the other. It is you. Azov ta’azov imo. Together. When you help another, it changes you, too, lifting both your burdens at the same time.