This week’s reading is Shoftim (Judges), Deuteronomy 16:18–21:9. Its central theme is justice, righteous leadership, and community responsibility. The parashah begins by entrusting us with the choosing of judges (shoftim) and officers (shotrim) to administer justice in each city so that they may live and possess the land. These judges had to be impartial, men of integrity, and free from bribery.

Then it declares that we must guard against idolatry so as not to adopt the pagan practices or idolatrous objects of the peoples who inhabited the land (16:21–22; 17:1–7). Next, it instructs that when difficult cases arise, they should be brought before a higher authority (priests and judges, 17:8–13). Next, it tells us that even the king had to submit to justice, write a copy of the Torah, and be careful not to possess too much property, which might make him boastful and lead him to assume he need not fear God (17:14-20). The rights and duties of the priests and Levites were established (18:1-8). We were warned about false prophets and occult practices, and taught how to recognize true prophecy (18:9-22).

Then, chapter 19 speaks of the cities of refuge, of witnesses, and the application of justice. Chapter 20 teaches us about the rules of war: that we should seek to make war the last means to achieve peace (v. 10), that we remove from the front lines those who do not truly wish to go to war so that they do not discourage the army, and it gives us instructions on how to deal with the peoples of Canaan when they are conquered.

It ends with the broken-necked heifer (עַל־הָֽעֶגְלָ֖ה הָֽעֲרוּפָ֥ה egla arufa), which was sent to a rough ravine neither plowed nor sown, where its neck was broken. This was a type of expiation and was applied when a person was found murdered, and the perpetrator was unknown (21:1-8).

Reading this passage brought many things to mind about why we live in a less-than-ideal, unjust world, and I became anxious just thinking about it. So, I reread the verses in Psalms 37:1-12: “Do not fret because of the wicked, nor be envious of the evildoers. For they shall soon be cut down like grass, and wither like the green herb.” And verse 37:7 adds: “Do not fret because of those who prosper in their ways, because of the man who carries out wicked schemes,” ending in verse 9: “For the wicked will be destroyed, but those who hope in the Lord will inherit the earth.”

This is my perspective on why we are unable to live and possess the land – due to a lack of justice. I don’t want to delve into obvious injustices like when laws are applied under the guise of “exceptions” or “special cases” because of bribery and favoritism, or because the person who made a mistake is related to someone powerful who could intimidate us, so we choose to remain silent. Beyond these common cases, I believe that today, without exception, even without being in the position of a legal judge in a court, we must judge and make judgments, and in many cases, evaluate whether those judgments are to be carried out. For example, if your children come home complaining about something that deserves verbal or physical punishment, how do you react? Do you take the obvious route? Do you listen to both sides? And how do you react if you’re exhausted and have had a difficult day at the office?

We also have to exercise judgment at work when we have to fire or discipline an employee, or hand in a complaint about a superior’s misconduct. And let’s not forget when we have to vote in an election – in one sense, our vote is the result of our judgment. Perhaps even more so, judgment disguised or softened with the words “opinion,” “suggestion,” or “advice.”

We see this applied in families, on social media, in neighborhood and religious communities. And I’d like to draw your attention to this: I’ve seen how social media presents us with “half-truths” to shape social behaviour that produces in us a “judicious opinion” and “condemnations” based on them. Did you know that in the 2024 US elections there was interference from Iran, China, and Russia on social media trying to influence or manipulate the elections and electoral preferences of Americans? I assure you that we didn’t even realize they were using us, putting ideas in our heads to “approve/disapprove” national projects, and that the barometer of justice today is “public opinion.” The world doesn’t seem to have changed how justice is chosen, just as when Pontius Pilate left it to “public opinion” to choose whether to condemn Rabbi Yeshua or Barabbas.

Why am I writing this? Because I believe there is an urgent need for us to open our eyes, because there are groups, communities, and individuals who want to decide the future of our generations through our judgment of approval or condemnation. And it is then that the application of justice becomes most subtle, which is why we must apply Parashat Shoftim today.

Let’s look at Creation: by eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, humankind acquired greater knowledge; in fact, Genesis says that “their eyes were opened” (3:7). But did greater knowledge and discernment bring greater justice?

Today we live in the age of AI, a tool that allows us to access knowledge more quickly and more extensively than ever, but what good is so much knowledge if, in practice, we cannot exercise justice?

I believe that justice, among many other things, fails to achieve the following subtleties, which I would like to address without implying that they are the only causes:

First, because we desire “instant justice.” We live in a hedonistic society where the pursuit of self-gratification is commonplace, and waiting seems to be foreign to this culture. Justice requires processes, time, thought, discernment, in-depth investigation, and the gathering of witnesses—a price not everyone is willing to pay. This current  lifestyle of instant gratification leads us to judge matters too quickly: “Ah, I know what happened!” while the Torah tells us: discern, ask questions, learn to say, “I still need to know what happened.” This second way of thinking requires time, gathering information, listening to different perspectives, reviewing the evidence, and, above all, “tolerating what we don’t know yet.” I remember it used to be very common to say, “I don’t know yet, but let me investigate.” A reasonable response requires time to search for files, documents, books, and consult with experts.

Today, with AI, the speed of responses from search engines and social media makes us “feel guilty if we don’t get an immediate answer,” and we also tend to confuse speed with intelligence.

I greatly admired our Rabbi Percy when he would say, “I don’t know, but let me investigate,” acknowledging that he didn’t have all the answers right away.

Let us remember what Proverbs 18:13 says: “Whoever answers a matter before he understands it, is foolish and brings shame upon himself.”

The processes we learn from this parashah that slow down judgment are: Seek witnesses, inquire, investigate, appoint judges, understand that there are various levels of authority in the courts, distinguish between intention and accident, build cities of refuge, do not be biased, pursue justice (constantly re-examine ourselves to see if we are seeking the truth), and do not accept bribes (financial, in kind, or verbal).

The Torah warns us that bribery “blinds the eyes of the wise.” Yes, of those who supposedly know. The Torah doesn’t assume that if “I am intelligent, I will never be corrupt,” and then adds that it “perverts just words.” The most obvious bribe is financial, but it can also take the form of commissions, travel expenses, trips, gifts, and benefits. But there are subtle ways to deflect justice, such as friendship, receiving affection, demonstrating “loyalty,” seeking acceptance from a group, bribery through gratitude for past favors, ideological bribery or bribery related to a cause, bribery through a story that provokes immediate outrage, and bribery of the ego (I cannot accept that “I was wrong”).

The problem lies in the fruit, which it says, “perverts just words.” This doesn’t necessarily mean telling a blatant lie; it can be true words arranged in such a way as to produce an unjust conclusion. Today we call that manipulation.

Second, “our minds hate uncertainty.” Our minds may prefer “a false story to open uncertainty,” and we see this reflected in our judgments: “He did it because he’s bad,” “He said this because he’s selfish,” “He didn’t come because he doesn’t care.” This is because we move from facts to interpretation, and from interpretation to condemnation. However, Tzedek, Tzedek Tirdof (Justice, Pursue Justice) compels us to break this cycle.

Third, we have prejudices, often cultural ones. It’s not that we think we’re superior to others, but rather that we normalize actions we feel we need to condemn or approve of. What’s normal isn’t necessarily good, nor is what’s different necessarily bad.

We shouldn’t seek the partiality of judgment, as the saying goes, that which tips the scales toward “if I like them, I’ll help them; if I don’t like them, I won’t.” “If my political party does it, there’s an explanation, but if the opposition does it, it’s corruption.” “Justice ceases to be justice when I first decide who is right and then look for arguments to justify my decision.”

Fourth, we live in a fragmented society, even as the Torah tells us, “תָּמִ֣ים תִּֽהְיֶ֔ה Tamin Tihyeh” (18:13) “Be upright.” That is, let’s not allow “the environment to think for me” or say, “I think for myself, so I am right.” Integrity lies between these two positions: not blindly submitting my conscience to the group, nor turning my own perception into absolute authority. Integrity requires discernment.

Fifth, we don’t like to take responsibility. The parashah begins with “choose” or “delegate.” Many people today think that if the choice of not voting in each country’s elections were a political choice, then abstention or indifference would win.

Why don’t we like to choose leaders? Because it’s easier to say: I didn’t vote for A or B; no, I chose him. This is what Pilate did: he was a ruler who refused to take responsibility for Yeshua, even though he had not witnessed anything reprehensible. He was a ruthless man. The problem of indifference is like the ostrich that thinks that by burying its head in the sand, the lion pursuing it won’t find it and it will become its dinner.

Tzedek, Tzedek Tirdoff is almost a “spiritual discipline” that involves stopping, looking (opening one’s eyes), listening, investigating, examining intention, distinguishing premeditated intention from accidents, not confusing truth with precedence nor authority with justice, seeking evidence, and only then determining judgment.

If our judgment has been distorted, if we have normalized the violence of people who only “appeared dead”, which is something that the Torah itself required of us when we broke the neck of a bull for that very reason; there is still time today to do Teshuvah, as our prophet Yeshayahu said in Isaiah 51:13 “And you forgot the LORD your Maker“. Yet the prophet invites us to “Wash yourselves, cleanse yourselves; put away the evil of your works from before my eyes; cease from doing evil. Learn to do good; seek justice” (Is.1:16-18).

In closing, I would like to refer to Isaiah 32:16-17: “And righteousness will dwell in the wilderness, and righteousness will dwell in the fertile field. And the effect of righteousness will be Shalom, pure peace.” Tzedek is not simply an individual obligation; it has social consequences. Where there is justice, there is peace. Having failed yesterday does not condemn us to continue being unfair tomorrow. We can always return, learn, repair and walk again with our Maker. “Tzedek, Tzedek, Tirdof”, Justice, Justice, You must pursue.

Shabbat Shalom

Mauricio Quintero