Us and Our Stuff
Remember George Carlin’s shtick about “stuff”? That your house is really just a place to stash your stuff while you’re out buying… more stuff.
Stuff. We all have stuff. Some of us have quite a lot of stuff. Carlin lampooned the mindless accumulation of stuff. And this week’s parsha deals a lot with stuff (it also deals with a lot of stuff, but that’s a different matter altogether).
What strikes me is the careful language the Torah utilizes to describe a person’s stuff.
Here’s the case: Reuven is going on vacation and asks Shimon, as a favor, to keep an eye on his stuff. When Reuven returns, Shimon tells him, ‘Bad news, bro. Your stuff was stolen.’ Witnesses? None. Thief? Slipped away.
So, the two obvious questions are (1) Did Shimon steal the stuff himself? and (2) even if Shimon is innocent of the theft, does he bear any responsibility for making good on the stolen stuff?
The second question is dealt with at length in Tractate Bava Kama and elsewhere. As to the first question, listen to the language of the Torah: “If the thief is not found, then the householder will approach unto G-d [and take an oath in G-d’s name] that he did not extend his hand against the work [במלאכת] of his friend.” Exodus 22:7
Why does the Torah use the curious term “melachah” to describe Reuven’s stolen 60 inch HDTV? Further, “melachah” means productive, creative work, as opposed to “avodah,” routine chores or mundane labors, such as sweeping the floor. What are we to learn from this?
By way of context: Judaism teaches that none of us truly own anything, even if we did pay for it. The A-lmighty is the “Koneh Hakol,” the Owner of Everything, by virtue of having created the elements, molecules, and compounds which compose that flat screen TV, and the laws of physics which govern how it works. G-d apportions His assets to whom He sees fit, when He sees fit; we are, at most, stewards of G-d’s stuff. Spiritually sensitive people never fall into the trap of thinking, “through my own strength and the power of my hands did I build this fortune.” (Deuteronomy 8:17)
Stuff, in and of itself, is meaningless. If you’ve ever had the unenviable task of sorting through the stuff of someone who has passed away, you’re struck by how trivial the things are that once meant so much: a favorite handkerchief or a worn pair of slippers or a chipped coffee mug. The detritus of a life stripped of its context.
But “melachah” – creative, productive, goal-oriented work – is meaningful. Melachah is associated with the creation of the universe; so it is that we abstain from melachah on the Sabbath. When we harness our creative energies to build and improve the world, we partner with the A-lmighty in the unfolding process of Creation.
And to be a builder, you need tools. You need your stuff. Painters need easels, canvases, brushes. Writers need quill and ink. Construction workers need pick-up trucks. Stuff only has purpose and meaning in the context of its contribution to the greater creative enterprise.
Every one of us is a builder and creator. The overarching objective of Jewish civil law, with which this parsha deals, is to create a level playing field where everyone is free to dream, to conceive and to build – their lives, their homes, their fortunes, their families.
Therein lies the answer. While the immediate matter at hand is Reuven’s missing stuff, Shimon must swear that he has not extended his hand to jeopardize Reuven’s melachah, his life’s work. For only in the context of our life’s work does the stuff have value, relevance, and importance.
The Hebrew words for sons and daughters – banim and banot – derive from the Hebrew root boneh, to build.
“All your children will be students of Hashem; great peace will be upon them.” (Isaiah 54:13) Rabbi Elazar said in the name Rabbi Chaninah: Don’t read the verse as ‘your children; but rather as ‘your builders.” (BT Brachot 64) At Posnack School we are cultivating builders.
What are you building these days?
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yehoshua Mizrachi

