In English, justice can be denied or deferred. We can bring someone to justice or do justice for someone. Justice is blind and is also poetic, but for the most part it is stationary. Justice sits on her throne, scales in hand, waiting for us to approach, like a wise elder presiding over our decision making. In Hebrew, justice is on the move. She is evasive and clever. In the words of this week’s Torah portion, Shoftim, “justice, justice, shall we pursue” (Deuteronomy 16:20).
A recent conversation with a litigator reminded me of just how true our ancestors’ understanding of justice is. She described a case that would take years and years to come to fruition. Even as awful as the harm done to her client, her recompense would require patience and fortitude. It would be costly, both in time and money, but according to the lawyer would, in the end, be worthwhile.
I am reminded of the time when my father fell in an open manhole and broke his arm when I was in high school. It took twenty years for the lawsuit with the City of Philadelphia to be resolved. And, while the amount my family received seemed a pittance compared to the time it took to see the case to its conclusion, the settlement still felt worthwhile. This was, after all, never just about our pain, but preventing similar situations from occurring in the future. We pursue justice for the betterment of later generations. For this we owe a deep debt of gratitude for all of those in the legal profession. Thank you, thank you, for your work in ensuring a more just world that is a gift not just to us, but to our children and children’s children as well.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Alex