Rabbi Freedman’s Shabbat Message

The second of today’s sidrot begins with the following sentence:

אֵ֣לֶּה פְקוּדֵ֤י הַמִּשְׁכָּן֙ מִשְׁכַּ֣ן הָֽעֵדֻ֔ת אֲשֶׁ֥ר פֻּקַּ֖ד עַל־פִּ֣י מֹשֶׁ֑ה עֲבֹדַת֙ הַֽלְוִיִּ֔ם בְּיַד֙ אִֽיתָמָ֔ר בֶּֽן־אַֽהֲרֹ֖ן הַכֹּהֵֽן
This is an inventory of all the materials used in the building of the Tabernacle. Everything was recorded at the command of Moses, under the direction of Itamar ben Aharon Hakohen. (Exodus 38:21)

We can see from these words that Moses published detailed accounts to avoid any accusation that he had misappropriated any funds designated for the building of the Mishkan. Not only did Moshe wish to be completely transparent in his business affairs, he did so under the direction of a third party, Itamar, who acted as an independent auditor.

In the first case, by keeping records and releasing them – Moses was confirming in his own mind that everything he did was correct, proving to himself that he had behaved honestly and that in the presence of God, he could happily demonstrate that every action taken was perfectly legal. Calling Itamar in to oversee everything that had been done provided an additional level of scrutiny. By inviting Itamar to validate all of his actions, Moses insured that others would have full confidence in the measures taken and would be completely satisfied regarding Moses’ trustworthiness. The first measure taken by Moses was therefore dealing with accountability – the second step was concerned with reputation.

What Moses was teaching the Jewish people was a significant lesson for all time and for all situations – namely that in our actions we must not only do the right thing, but we must be seen to do the right thing. In other words honesty and integrity is one thing – we should all behave in such a way that we live up to our own high standards, appreciating that we are accountable to God Almighty. But there is more than just the performance of a good deed and the knowledge that we have done the right thing; in Judaism, equally important is the requirement that others can also see that we have behaved correctly, honourably and judiciously.

From here we can see that there are two distinct parts to the proper performance of a mitzvah; the first is related to our own observance of the command – a level of accountability that we ourselves can measure; but secondly is the way our actions are perceived by others – this does not deal with ‘accountability’ rather ‘reputation’. Moses knew that he had performed his duties correctly, but he needed to make sure that everyone else in the Israelite camp believed that too.

Accountability and reputation are therefore closely related, yet conceptually distinct moral categories. Both concern how a person stands in relation to others and to ethical norms, but they operate on different axes: one primarily juridical and moral, the other social and perceptual.

Jewish thought, particularly in light of the verse וִהְיִיתֶם נְקִיִּים מֵה׳ וּמִיִּשְׂרָאֵל You shall be innocent before the Lord and before Israel (Numbers 32:22), insists that a complete moral life requires both accountability and acceptability – good behaviour as well as a good reputation. The first stage is to be evaluated by God, the second stage is to respected by our peers, and hopefully in neither case, to be found wanting

To make the distinction even clearer, accountability is the obligation to answer for one’s actions before a legitimate authority or moral standard. It implies, responsibility and with it the need, on occasions, to explain one’s conduct. For a religious leader, such as Moshe, accountability exists primarily before God, which is why the sages in the Ethics of the Fathers 3:1 taught – דע לפני מי אתה עתיד ליתן דין וחשבון – Know before whom you will one day give judgment and accounting. The ultimate accountability is metaphysical and divine.

Yet Jewish law also recognizes communal accountability and the requirement for transparency – in Australian jargon it is called ‘passing the pub test’. If before God one offers at times an explanation, before one’s peers one should always be ready to offer – justification. Accountability, therefore, is objective: it concerns whether one actually acted properly.

Reputation is something altogether different. Reputation is the collective perception others have of a person’s actions, character and integrity. It is: relational – it exists in the minds of others, a perception – It may or may not correspond perfectly to reality. A person may be accountable (entirely innocent) but still suffer reputational damage due to misunderstanding. The converse may also be true, albeit less likely and less often.

Although mitzvot are fundamentally duties performed to fulfil the will of God, the rabbis were still wary of perception and so introduced an entire branch of law to try to avoid situations where someone is doing the right thing, but considered to be doing the wrong thing. This doctrine is known as מראית עין mar’it ayin (best understood as an action of suspicious appearance), where even permissible actions may be restricted if they create a misleading impression. Reputation matters not merely as vanity but as a communal moral resource.

The rabbis in Midrash Tanchuma (Pekudei) explain that the reason Moshe provided such a detailed account of the Mishkan funds was to avoid such suspicion among the general public. Though no one seriously doubted him, his actions cemented his integrity in the eyes of the Israelites. This is perhaps the first case of mar’it ayin in Jewish history.

Other examples abound – on a personal level, I once needed bags of ice for a simcha – the only place at that time that sold ice in our area was the local McDonald’s. Although I, a rabbi, would have only entered McDonald’s for the most innocent of reasons – my then shul caretaker insisted that he would go and purchase the ice for me in case anyone saw me making my way in or out of a non-kosher establishment and got the wrong impression!

The basic source for mar’it ayin is the Mishna in Shekalim (3:2):
אֵין הַתּוֹרֵם נִכְנָס לֹא בְּפַרְגּוֹד חָפוּת, וְלֹא בְּמִנְעָל, וְלֹא בְּסַנְדָּל, וְלֹא בִּתְפִלִּין, וְלֹא בְּקָמִיעַ, שֶׁמָּא יַעֲנִי, וְיֹאמְרוּ מֵעֲוֹן הַלִּשְׁכָּה הֶעֱנִי, אוֹ שֶׁמָּא יַעֲשִׁיר, וְיֹאמְרוּ מִתְּרוּמַת הַלִּשְׁכָּה הֶעֱשִׁיר. לְפִי שֶׁאָדָם צָרִיךְ לָצֵאת יְדֵי הַבְּרִיּוֹת כְּדֶרֶךְ שֶׁצָּרִיךְ לָצֵאת יְדֵי הַמָּקוֹם, שְׁנֶּאֱמַר (במדבר לב) וִהְיִיתֶם נְקִיִים מֵיְיָ וּמִיִּשְׂרָאֵל
The one who collects communal funds from the treasury chamber is not to enter that chamber while wearing a cuffed garment or shoes or sandals. Nor should he enter with tefillin or amulets since these have places into which money could be inserted. The concern is that the one collecting the funds might fall on hard times and people will say that his poverty is a direct result of his stealing shekels from the chamber. Conversely the person might one day become rich and people will say that his wealth was as a direct result of the money he stole from the chamber.
Even though no-one should suspect another of stealing shekels, the one collecting the shekels should nevertheless take sensible precautions to avoid suspicion.
A person has a duty to appear innocent before people just as he must be innocent before God, as it is states: “And you shall be guiltless before the Lord and before Israel” (Numbers 32:22). From here it may be inferred that one must be innocent before God and above suspicion before men.

Another example of מראית עין is found in Massechet Shabbat with regard to drying wet clothing that had been laundered before Shabbat began but not yet placed on a rack or clothes line before the advent of Shabbat or garments that had fallen into water on Shabbat itself and needed drying. Although no melakhah, or forbidden work within the Laws of Shabbat was performed, the action appeared to suggest a violation. In general the rabbis were concerned about actions which, though permitted in and of themselves, lent themselves to misinterpretation.

In this case, the rabbis asked whether there is a difference between drying the clothes in a public space where they can be seen by members of the public, as opposed to drying them in a private home where no passer-by could see them. Rabbeinu Nissim (from Kairouan, Tunisia 990-1062) ruled in accordance with the Mishnah that only in a case where the garments are laid out to dry where others might see them, would the action be prohibited under the law of מראית עין. By contrast, the three great rabbinic authorities of the Middle Ages – the Rif (Rabbi Yitzchak Ben Yaakov Hacohen Alfes of Morocco, 1013 to 1103), the Rambam (Moses Maimonides from Spain and North Africa, 1135-1204), and the Rosh (Rabbeinu Asher ben Jehiel of Germany and Spain, 1259 – 1327) all rule in accordance with Rabbi Elazar and Rabbi Shimon, two Talmudic sages, who state that anything forbidden by our Sages out of concern for suspicion i.e. מראית עין is forbidden even in the privacy of one’s own home. This opinion was accepted as authoritative by Rabbi Joseph Karo – the author of the Shulhan Aruch or Code of Jewish Law.

One further example of מראית עין: the Talmud in Keritot 21b discusses the matter of fish blood. The Torah does not forbid the blood of kosher fish (neither do fish have to be slaughtered). Yet some species have blood which resembles blood of a mammal, a product that is prohibited in Jewish Law. The Sages therefore ruled that although fish blood is kosher, one should not consume it on its own, because onlookers may think that regular blood from an ox or sheep is being consumed. Therefore, some indication of its source, e.g. fish scales should be on the table. Based on this, Chazal ruled that before consuming meat with almond milk, one should insure that it is obvious to everyone present that the milk being used is not regular milk from a cow. This may be achieved by leaving a few almonds on the side.

The equivalent today would be to eat a meat meal and then serve tea or coffee with soy milk or non-dairy creamer. To stave off any suspicion that this is a mixture of Basar be-Chalav – Meat and Milk, (i.e. cow’s milk) – the alternate forms of milk should always be served in their containers.

Mar’it ayin is a strange idea – it panders to people who prefer to think the wrong thing, as opposed to those who are actually doing the right thing. But here’s the thing – sometimes we are so sure that we are doing the right thing, we ignore the concerns of others. It is a form of arrogance, if not the very definition of arrogance – to consider that one is always right and they, the other person, always wrong. I once gave a sermon – it was bold and insightful with an exceptionally strong message concerning Teshuva – repentance, but the example I brought from the Gemara could be described in modern terminology as X Rated. The synagogue office received a letter of complaint – not about the message, but about the content. At the time I dismissed the criticism – after all I had chosen a passage of Talmud to illustrate my point, how could I be in the wrong? Yet sometime later a dear friend of mind, who had been present in the synagogue when I spoke, explained to me that the background of many of my congregants was puritanical, innocent and unsophisticated. In hindsight, my choice of text, had been rather confronting – I was technically in the right, but objectively – I could have done better. That is the meaning behind mar’it ayin.

Thus, accountability without reputation is incomplete. A person who acts properly but ignores how their actions appear, risks undermining communal trust. Conversely, reputation without accountability is hollow righteousness. Rabbi Sacks, as usual, helps us to understand the principles at stake:

Suspicion is a pervasive feature of social life and it is intensely destructive.

Judaism – a central project of which is the construction of a gracious society built on justice, compassion, mutual responsibility and trust – confronts the problem from both directions.

One the one hand it commands us not to harbour suspicions but to judge people generously, giving them the benefit of the doubt. On the other hand, it bids each of us to act in a way that is above suspicion, keeping [as the rabbis put it] “far from unseemly conduct, from whatever resembles it, and from what may merely appear to resemble it.”

Being innocent before God is one thing; being innocent before one’s fellow human beings is another, and far more difficult. Yet that is the challenge – not because we seek their approval (that is what is known as pandering) but because we are summoned to be role models, exemplars, living embodiments of Torah, and because we are called on to be a unifying, not a divisive, presence in Jewish life.

As the Chatam Sofer said, we will not always succeed. Despite our best endeavours, others may still accuse us (as they accused Moses) of things of which we are utterly innocent. Yet we must do our best by being charitable in our judgement of others and scrupulous in the way we conduct ourselves.

Ultimately, Jewish ethics refuses to separate private virtue from public trust. To live faithfully is to ensure that our conduct withstands scrutiny both in Heaven and in human society. We are reminded of this many times a day – following every meal, for example, we say these words:

בַּמָרוֹם יְלַמְדוּ עֲלֵיהֶם וְעָלֵינוּ זְכוּת שֶתְהֵא לְמִשְמֶרֶת שָלוֹם וְנִשָא בְרָכָה מֵאֵת ה’ וּצְדָקָה מֵאֱלֹקֵי יִשְעֵנוּ וְנִמְצָא חֵן וְשֵכֶל טוֹב בְעֵינֵי אֱלֹהִים וְאָדָם.

From heaven, may there be invoked upon him and upon us such merit as will bring enduring peace. May we receive blessing from the Lord and kindness from God our deliverer, and may we find grace and good understanding in the eyes of God and man.

This last clause reflects a verse in Proverbs (3:4) in which we read the essence of mar’it ayin:

וּמְצָא-חֵן וְשֵכֶל-טוֹב בְעֵינֵי אֱלֹהִים וְאָדָם
Find favour and a good reputation from God and man.

Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi David Freedman