Going Overboard
Doing a little bit more than required is not just an incremental addition. It transforms the act from selfness to otherness.
Imprecise Weights and Measures!
Honest weights and measures are mandated by the Torah in this week’s Parsha. So strong is the Torah’s insistence on giving one’s customers an accurate weight and measure, that Jewish law requires that we give a bit more than the precise weight and measure.
At first glance, this requirement appears problematic. If one knows for sure that his measures are just, why should he have to lose some of his merchandise? True, there are cases where one might be tempted to give a little less than the required amount, so to compensate for that we are told to give a little more. However, the question still remains. Why does the Torah not make a similar requirement for other Mitzvos?
For example: The Torah requires that we tithe our produce, which means that, in the Land of Israel, one must give ten percent of one’s agricultural yield to the Levite. There is no law that dictates that we should give a little bit more, so as to ensure that we don’t give less. Why is the commandment concerning honest weights and measures different?
The “Good Eye”
Perhaps, the answer to this question can be found in human psychology. The Talmud says that when one gives a gift, they give it unstintingly, with a “good eye.” This means that if a question arises, upon receipt of a gift, as to whether all the accessories were included, one can assume, unless there is definite evidence to the contrary, that the donor of the gift meant to make the gift a complete one.
By contrast, if an object was sold and the consumer demands the accessories, according to some Talmudic Sages, we make the opposite assumption; that the seller only intended to sell the minimum he is compelled to sell—i.e., the item without its accessories. And without concrete evidence to the contrary, the buyer loses.
What is the reason for this distinction?
When a person is in the mode of giving, it means that they have risen above the natural tendency of a finite creature to be exclusively self-centered. It is natural for an animal — and a person whose personality is governed by his “animal soul” — to try to keep all that rightfully belongs to itself.
The very act of giving a gift to another is a recognition that one is capable of transcending one’s selfhood to think of others. Once one has risen to that level and expressed a part of his personality that is not driven by self-interest— relatively speaking, for one can have an ulterior motive in giving a gift as well—it is safe to assume that when there is a doubt about the giver’s intentions, it most likely was to give away the item with its accessories.
A benevolent spirit is assumed to be benevolent until proven otherwise. And if we have to err, we should err on the side of his generosity, not his self-interest.
From “Self-Interest” to “Other-Interest”
Conversely, when one is in the selling mode, despite the fact that he or she too is giving away his or her personal belongings, it is entirely motivated by self-interest. As the Talmud puts it: “One who buys and then sells for the same price, is he really a businessman?” Business, by definition, demands a profit. When there is a doubt as to the seller’s intention, we should assume that it was to come out making more profit than less.
We can now appreciate why the Torah was so strict in its insistence on honest weights and measures and the additional requirement that one must give more than the required measure.
When a person is in the sales mode — as opposed to the gift mode — it is the self-interest aspect of one’s personality that is the driving force. One must then do something to shift gears and allow for the selfless aspect of one’s personality to temper the selfish dimension.
By giving a bit more than one is required, even when there is no fear of cheating, one elevates the entire selling experience from a purely selfish and mundane one into one that is also selfless and G-dly.
To be sure, one can accomplish this goal when they give some of their earnings to tzedakah. However, the giving of tzedakah occurs after the transaction was completed. At best, it can have a retroactive effect on the business dealing. The advantage of giving more than the just measure is that while one is engaged in a selfish act, it is immediately transformed into a selfless and G-dly act.
Judaism is not focused primarily on escaping the day to day aspects of the world into a spiritual ivory tower. The goal of Judaism is to instill spirituality into the physical, selflessness into selfish endeavors, the infinite into the finite and the G-dly into the human. One way we exemplify this ideal is to transform the normal, quotidian exercise of selling a product for profit from an exclusive “self-interest” practice into an “other interest” experience.
The lesson from this is that whenever we extend ourselves beyond that which is required we allow a higher layer of our personality to come to the fore. We allow our G-dly soul to manifest itself and remove the dominance of our animal soul.
Clearing the Road to Redemption
The Torah associates just weights and measures with the need to remember the wicked nation Amalek that attempted to destroy us and which represents the ultimate in evil. Why would these two totally disparate themes be linked together?
Amalek, we are taught, is the nation and mindset that threatens to abort the process of Redemption. Just as the evil nation attacked us just as we left Egypt—attempting to reverse that Exodus—so too the modern incarnation of the internal Amalek, threatens to keep our G-dly soul in its prison.
Whenever we engage in an entirely mundane and secular activity without any “intrusion” of our G-dly and selfless interests, our G-dly soul can be said to be in an internal exile. We become so self-absorbed that we cannot think about the other—at least for the duration of that selfcentered activity.
By performing a selfless act of giving slightly more than is required in the sale of an item; one negates the internal Amalek’s impediment to full spiritual Redemption. It deals Amalek a lethal blow and keeps the road to final Redemption wide open.
The relationship between the state of exile in which we are situated and the state of Redemption that we eagerly anticipate is that exile is stifling and Redemption is liberating. To assist in our collective redemption, we must learn how to redeem ourselves as individuals by breaking out of the limiting aspects of our personalities. This we accomplish by always doing a little bit more than required in every desirable sphere of life. Whatever has become our norm is exile. Whatever we do to increase in the direction of goodness is redemptive.
From the book Light from the Future: Parshas Ki Seitzei by Rabbi Heschel Greenberg, published by the Jewish Discovery Center.
