The chapters in Parshat Mishpatim cover a vast array of social rules, moral imperatives, ethical injunctions and civil and criminal laws, all of which are linked to the Decalogue (Ten Commandments) which were read last Shabbat.  
Compensation must be made for damages caused by one's animals grazing on another's property or from a fire that one carelessly caused. Responsibilities of guardianship, situations in which someone is guarding that which belongs to someone else, are also discussed.  The general principle is that liability increases with the benefit that the one guarding the property receives or expects for his services or that he gains from the entrusted property.  
 
The subject matter moves from "stolen property to the stolen heart" and deals with the man who seduces an unmarried woman and is required to pay punitive damages to her and/or her father and must marry her, provided that she consents.  Three capital offenses described as "toevot" (abominations) follow -- the prohibition of sorcery, bestiality and apostasy.  

This section continues with laws that express concern for the disadvantaged of society --  the stranger, the widow and orphan, and the poor.  The Torah states, for example, that one who lends money to a poor person should not demand repayment when none is reasonably forthcoming.  Included in this passage is the prohibition of charging interest on personal loans.  Additionally, if one takes a poor person's bedding as security for a loan, it must be returned each evening for his use. 

One is forbidden to curse judges, The Judge, God, or leaders of the people.  One should not withhold the gifts (e.g., firstlings of the soil, of the human womb and of domesticated animals) from God.  While the latter laws deal with animals that are to be dedicated to God, the following law refers to those prohibited for human consumption.  A "treifa," literally an animal torn up by a predator and left to die, is forbidden to eat.  

This section also includes with laws intended to maintain the integrity of the judicial system and those regulating humane treatment of one's enemy.  For example, courts many not hear one side of a dispute without the other party being present.  Included in this prohibition is not to be influenced by rumors, Lashon HaRah.  Judges may not accept testimony from unworthy witnesses.  In their deliberations, judges must be careful not to do anything that might pervert justice or unfairly shift the feelings of the court against the accused. Generally, rules of law are determined by majority vote of the judges.  Judges may not show favoritism, even towards the less fortunate.

What follows is a series of miscellaneous laws dealing with the perversion of justice, the taking of bribes, the oppression of strangers.  Then, the Torah shifts to laws regulating the agricultural economy.  Fields are to be worked for six years and allowed to rest during the seventh so that the poor and even the wildlife will be able to enjoy the land.  Similarly, one must abstain from all manner of creative work on Shabbat.  

An outline of the religious calendar is given beginning with Pesach in the spring. The calendar is followed by four laws that regulate ritual and ceremonial aspects of these holidays --  the prohibition of slaughtering the paschal lamb on the fourteenth of Nisan while the participant has not yet discarded all leaven products, the requirement that the fatty portions of the paschal sacrifice, those that attach to the stomach and intestines, be burnt before dawn, the requirement to bring the choicest of first fruits to the sanctuary on Shavuot; and the prohibition against boiling a calf in its mother's milk. So begins the need for two sets of dishes, OY! 

Mishpatim gives us a blueprint for a just, humane and compassionate society and represents laws that are still relevant in our lives every day. 

​There are many ways to interpret Torah, as we’ve discussed in various contexts.  One is the obvious one—the interpretation focuses on what is or what seems to be the literal message of the passage. That’s called pshat.  And there are other ways, too. There is also gematria, where we count words or passages based on assigning a number to each letter of the Hebrew alphabet.  When we know what the number is, we can often draw connections to other ideas or mitzvot in the Torah. 
But here I want to focus on another method of interpretation—a technique called gezera shava. In gezera shava, we look at how often a phrase or a word appears in the Torah; if a phrase or a word occurs only once in the entire Torah, for example, that may mean that there’s something significant about the phrase or word. And if a word or a phrase appears frequently, it doesn’t seem to have as much interpretive weight.  And if identical phrases, or sentences, or terms appear INFREQUENTLY, we look for what meaning they might share. 
This week’s parsha, parshat Yitro, which we read in its entirety, contains a phrase that has appeared in the Torah before, making it a gezera shava. Moshe’s father-in-law advises him to delegate some of the work he’s been doing. Yitro points out that Moshe is the only person the Israelites rely on, and that dependence is ultimately going to exhaust Moshe.  It’s good advice, something that all of us can learn from.  That we can’t do it all.  But when Yitro observes Moshe, he is quick to pronounce judgment.  According to Yitro, the situation is not good.  Simple words, in both Hebrew and English. Lo Tov.  Not good.  And Moshe, wise man that he was, knows that he’s got to change his approach to ruling.  So, what about that phrase lo tov? It’s so simple that you might think that it appears repeatedly in the Torah. Yet it does not.  In fact, that phrase appears only one other time in the entire Torah.  You may be able to figure out where is its earlier occurrence.    
Well, the answer is that lo tov appears in Breishit—when God sees that Adam is alone, God declares that that situation is lo tov, not good.  So this is a perfect opportunity for gezera shava.  And then the question becomes: What might these two examples share? What can we learn from bringing them together?
We might notice that, in the first case, God the father is pronouncing judgment; in the second case, Yitro the father-in-law is pronouncing judgment.  But I think we can also go beyond that.  God makes clear that it is not good for a person to be alone.  And he creates Chava, Eve. Here God is making a statement about the value of family, about the value of intimate partnerships, of love.  A partner can provide balance, can help one to shift perspective, can pick you up when you’re down. When Yitro exclaims lo tov, he is declaring that it is not good for rulers to rule alone, for rulers to be alone. That every ruler needs partners, people with whom she or he can share not only the responsibility but also the weight of leadership.  Yitro makes clear that justice cannot be the sole province of one person, even someone as wise as his son-in-law Moshe.
So here in these two lo tovs we see the mirroring of family and community, of the personal and of the political, of the private and the public. It is not good to be alone, not good for a society, a community, and not good for the individual. And we know that, for Judaism, the line between family and community is never absolutely delineated. Never clear-cut. Here gezera shava teaches us that it is not good to be alone, and that we are never alone as long as we have each other.

​This week’s parsha is full of some of the most memorable scenes in the Torah. We know that the Israelites have now escaped from Egypt, and we see the Egyptians who chase after them destroyed in the Yam Suf.  The song we hear celebrates not the death of the Egyptians OR the splitting of the sea, but rather the Israelites’ faith in God AFTER the sea splits.
These miracles are followed by yet another miracle, one that we are quite familiar with:  the miracle of the manna.  The passage that describes this miracle is somewhat ambiguous.  Here’s what it says:

Moses announces the tenth plague to Pharaoh, the slaying of the firstborn sons of Egypt.  God hardens Pharaoh's heart, and Pharaoh does not respond to his final ultimatum.  Once Pharaoh sees his own family affected, he permits the Israelites to leave the country.  

The way Pharaoh responds to the tenth plague gives us insight into his relationship with the people he rules.  Pharaoh not only enslaved the Israelites, but he also enslaved his own plague-stricken people by his lack of concern for their welfare.  He could not care less about the fact that his own people -- the Egyptians -- were suffering blow after blow.  
Only when the angel of death is at his door is he willing to let the Israelites go; when only the people suffered, Pharaoh was not moved in the least.  God then commands Moses to instruct the Israelites how to prepare the sacrificial meal that is to occur immediately prior to the Exodus. The people are to take a lamb, slaughter it on the 14th day of Nisan, at twilight, mark the doorposts of their houses with its blood, and eat the lamb on the eve of the 15th.  On the same night, God strikes down all the first-born of Egypt.  God further commands the Israelites to observe this festival -- the 15th of Nisan, Passover -- for all time.  
It is well-known that the Hebrew calendar is lunar (more precisely lunar-solar).  The author of the Sefat Emes understands the Hebrew lunar calendar as a metaphor for the miracle of outliving our persecutors.  Whereas others may survive only when the sun shines upon them, the Jews have survived and managed to spread light, as the moon does, even in the darkness.
This portion forms the basis of our Passover Haggadah. A good strategy to spice up your Seder would be to read parts of this Parsha from a Chumash such as Etz Chaim with commentaries. This can be an adjunct to the Haggadah itself. 
Exodus 12:24-27 emphasizes this in the commandment, "You shall observe this as an instruction for all time . . . you shall observe this rite.  And when your children say to you, `What do you mean by this rite (ma ha-avodah hazot lachem)?' you shall say, `It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord, because He passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt .’
The phrase, "What do you mean by this rite?" is placed into the mouth of the wicked child in the Passover Haggadah.  Often, we dismiss this question and view the child's inquiry more as a challenge rather than a request for more understanding.  Yet, embedded in his comment may be a thought worth pondering.  
The word, "avodah," derives from the very same word as "avdoot," slavery.  The child's question is, therefore, "What makes servitude to God any better than servitude to Pharaoh?  I thought the whole point of leaving Egypt was to be free and now it turns out we are "avadim," slaves, again!"  
If we understand the child's question in this way, the "wicked" child is presenting a challenging question.  One way to respond is to suggest that Egyptian bondage was purely utilitarian.  Pharaoh has no interest in the welfare of the slaves.  In contrast, being a servant of God is a means of becoming who we were intended to be at creation; and this requires discipline, which is meant not to crush us (as was Pharaoh's intent) but to focus our energies so that we can become a holy people.