In the Torah portion of כִּי-תֵצֵא/Ki Tetze, “when you go out,” we find a correction to the popular idiomatic expression and children’s rhyme “finders keepers, losers weepers.” In Deuteronomy 22:1-4:

“You shall not see your brother’s ox or his sheep going astray and ignore them. You shall take them back to your brother. And if he does not live near you and you do not know who he is, you shall bring it home to your house, and it shall stay with you until your brother seeks it. Then you shall restore it to him. And you shall do the same with his donkey or with his garment, or with any lost thing of your brother’s, which he loses and you find; you may not ignore it. You shall not see your brother’s donkey or his ox fallen down by the way and ignore them. You shall help him to lift them up again.”

Contrary to this popular rhyme, when we find something belonging to another, we have an obligation to return it; or, in the event of a great distance between you and them, if the location of the owner is not known to you, it must be kept safe, implying care given, until they come to find it. Then the livestock or item is returned.

What are the items in question? An ox, a sheep, a donkey, and a garment.

Deuteronomy 22:1-3 (cf. Ex. 23:4-5) is a correction of turning a blind eye in one regard, as if the lost animal or item is no concern of yours; but it is also an imperative to restore what has been lost. Failure to do so and keeping said item would be accounted as theft, subject judgment if discovered, and that would be of much greater value than a supposed gain.

The rabbis have concluded that these laws apply to all domestic animals, not just those listed; and to any item, not just his garment. Why? Why is the Torah concerned with the returning of lost livestock or items?

In a society where lives could rise or fall upon the loss of an ox, a sheep, or a donkey, to secure and return them to the rightful owner could potentially save the family. Perhaps the loss was accidental? Should the family fall into poverty due to an accident? The loss for one is not an unexpected gain for another. Note the language of Deuteronomy 22:1-3, the “brother” may not be known to you. The Lord is creating a relationship, a bond, a care and concern between two unknown parties. Why? That we ultimately trust Him for our blessing and provision.

As the Torah often does, it uses a seemingly incidental life circumstance to deepen our care and concern for the human other. It’s another example of loving neighbor, stranger, and even our enemy as ourselves (Lev. 19:18, 34; Ex. 23:4-5). It is one example of how the Lord conforms us to His image, by reaching into a very relatable situation.

Deuteronomy 22:4 demands we go deeper. If you see this unknown brother in trouble with the ox or their donkey, help them. Again, do not turn away, help. Demonstrate His grace.

Is there a deeper consideration for this? Ultimately we, and all that we have, belong to the Lord. In the Gospels, Messiah Yeshua/Jesus says, “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (Lk. 19:10).

The Torah teaches us to take responsibility for the lost animal and item, how much more so the human? The Torah teaches us to help lift the burden of the neighbor along the way. How much more so the neighbor on the way to eternity?

Yeshua is seeking the lost, those belonging to Him. He has set those of us having been found at intersections of peoples lives to help, care for, and minister to until He reaches them. Admittedly, this may seem a stretch, but as the Torah and Messiah do in so many instances, they use the mundane to teach matters of eternal significance.

Finders, keepers, losers, weepers obviously is not biblical, but the joy of the Father welcoming a lost son or daughter home is (Lk. 15:24), as is the joy He experiences when we, older sons and daughters, respond obediently to His will.

Be well. Shalom.

Nestled in a rather unusual place at the beginning of parsha Shoftim (Judges), just after the Lord commands the establishment of judges and officers (Deut. 16:18-19), and the well known command to pursue justice (Deut. 16:20), we find two commands about the Altar of God.

Simply: do not plant an Ashram pole for yourself next to the Altar of God, and do not set up a pillar for yourself (Deut. 16:21-22).

Why this unusual placement? The Altar of God is to be holy. A place where the people of God can come for forgiveness, restoration, even celebration before the Lord. Idolatry, represented by the pole and the pillar, does something subtle in the human heart that we often overlook.

The Altar of God was to be made of uncut stones (Ex. 20:25; Deut. 27:5-7). Imagine how beautiful and ornate a stilled sculptor like a Michelangelo could form the stones of the Altar of God. Easily creating a masterpiece, a place of such majestic beauty, that few, if any, would dare to approach. Admired from afar, but functionally useless. Keeping at a distance the very people who need to draw near.

Idolatry is an ever-present danger in the life of faith; as it steals our affections that rightly belong to God. Idolatry admires not the “god” it images, but the human effort involved in it. Consider the words of Rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein, “The word Asherah comes from the word asher, to make fulfilled or thrive. You tended to the Asherah planted in honor of a particular god. Your care made the tree flourish and thrive. In recognition of the honor you showed it, its god helped you out with some special assistance, placing some natural force at your disposal.”

Yet, why not allow such a holy place to be adorned with poles and pillars, ornate carved stones and magnificent steps? Why not cover the Altar with gold, diamonds, rubies, and other treasures of the earth? Why disqualify human artistry at the Altar when it was permitted in other elements of the Tabernacle?

Simple: once human effort enters the place of sacrifice, our eyes would be taken off the Lord, and we would look back at ourselves, or even to the lack in the human other approaching the Living God. We look for a power apart from the Lord. Once we begin to examine the beauty of the Altar, of what we have tended, we overlook the beauty of His grace, and the high price of forgiveness. Then, we become idolators, our worship profane, and we remain dead in our sins, see the Lords rebuke in Isaiah 65:2-3.

Scripture teaches that God made man in His image. Therefore only God can make an image of Himself. The second commandment forbids idolatry for this very reason. We are not to image God, rather He images us and conforms us to the image of His Son (Ro. 8:29). To see “god” as a pole or pillar, a bird or a bull, diminishes the sanctity of humanity made in His image. Once diminished, it is easily devalued, discarded, and destroyed.

Idolatry, masquerading as holy worship, spiritually disqualifies those He is drawing to Himself. Qualifying those who have reached a human standard of acceptance. So we wait. We hide. We are never good enough, qualified enough, or perfect enough to approach a place of such beauty. Rather than a place of reconciliation of relationship, the idolatrous altar divides and isolates. Relationship with the Lord expects relationship with the human other. We find then, idolatry isolates us, and limits the limitless Living God. Idolatry teaches us that we have a hand in our salvation, and if we have a superior result, we are most certainly more loved. The testimony of Scripture does not support this conclusion.

A command for uncut, simple, natural stones reminds us that He desires the simplicity of an obedient heart, not a perfect heart. He does the work of perfection, not us. Do not wait until you feel “chiseled” enough to “fit in” with the beauty around you, to “fit right” with the approved standard of beauty and holiness before you come to Him. This is not what He wants. He wants you. Come to Him in faith as you are, and He will, as you trust in His sacrifice, conform you to the beauty of His Son.

The command regarding poles and pillars follows commands for justice because as long as we see ourselves as the beautifiers and keepers of the Altar of God, justice, according to God’s measure, is impossible. For by our justice, no measure is ever enough. But in God’s justice, the righteous Judge took the final judgment Himself (2 Cor. 5:17-21).

Be well. Shalom.