Speak to the Israelites, and you shall say to them: ‘When you come into the land that I am about to give you, the land shall keep a sabbath to YHWH. Rabbi Benamozegh presents a deep and insightful analysis that intertwines the concept of Sabbatical years with the festivals. The Sabbatical year (‘shemita’) is a period every seventh year when the land of Israel is left fallow and agricultural activities are halted. He begins by presenting us with an observation made by Shadal about Israelite timekeeping: just as the Jubilee year (‘yobel’) occurs every fifty years, following seven cycles of seven Sabbatical years, similarly, the Israelite festivals are scheduled in a pattern that mirrors this. Shadal notes that the total number of Sabbaths in a year is always at least forty-nine, but never reaches fifty-six. This means that the number of Sabbaths each year is never divisible by a whole number greater or smaller than seven. Correspondingly, there are seven significant days in the Jewish liturgical calendar that are considered “holy convocations”. These are the first and seventh days of Passover, one day of Shabuot, one of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, the first day of Sukkot, and Shemini Aṣeret. Each of these days has a special significance, cumulatively adding up to seven days, mirroring the Sabbatical cycle. The shemita year falls once every seven years, and the yobel falls once every seven shemita years. Similarly, the Sabbath falls once every seven days, and there are seven festivals each year, which works out to one festival per seven Sabbaths each year. Rabbi Benamozegh concludes by reflecting on the delight and profundity of these observations, inviting the reader to appreciate the intricate and interconnected nature of the Torah’s teachings. He emphasises that while this relationship may not be immediately apparent or explicitly written in the Torah, it underscores a deeper, underlying unity within the Torah’s laws.

And you shall hallow the fiftieth year and call a release in the land to all its inhabitants. A jubilee it shall be for you, and you shall go back each man to his holding and each man to his clan, you shall go back. Rabbi Benamozegh provides a multi-layered interpretation of the Jubilee year (יובל). His analysis explores the Jubilee year’s theological, philosophical, and chronological aspects, engaging with both Jewish and non-Jewish scholarly perspectives. The first part of his commentary on our verse delves into the Kabbalistic interpretation of the Jubilee year. He notes that Kabbalists view the Jubilee as symbolising the return of reality to its source - God. They link the Kabbalistic attribute of understanding (‘binah’) with ‘repentance’ (‘teshuba’) and Jubilee (‘yobel’), which both connote the idea of ‘returning’. By associating ‘binah’ with the Jubilee, Kabbalists emphasise the idea of returning or reverting to a purer, more Divine state. This interpretation aligns with the broader Kabbalistic theme of restoring balance and harmony to the universe through human actions and Divine grace. Rabbi Benamozegh then addresses how the concept of Jubilee is deeply ingrained in the commandments and has influenced external perceptions. He notes that some researchers and individuals mistakenly believed that the Jubilee was established based on the idea that the world would end every fifty years. This misinterpretation, he explains, is a result of confusing the metaphor with the thing it symbolises. In other words, the symbolic meaning of the Jubilee — a time of restoration and renewal — was misread as a literal end of the world. This highlights the potential for misinterpretation when symbolic religious concepts are taken out of their theological and cultural context. Moving on, Rabbi Benamozegh addresses a chronological and interpretative error made by some scholars of the nations, including the 16th century philosophers Scaliger and Pétau, who posited that the Jubilee year was the forty-ninth year. He refutes this by citing the explicit text in our verse, “and you shall hallow the fiftieth year.” He notes that other earlier scholars like Josephus, Philo, Eusebius, and Jerome correctly acknowledged the Jubilee as the fiftieth year. Lastly, Rabbi Benamozegh brings in a rabbinic perspective from the Talmud, where there is a debate in Nedarim regarding whether the fiftieth-year counts in the cycle of seven (the Sabbatical cycle). The dispute between Rabbi Yehudah, who holds that it does count, and the Sages, who hold that it does not, possibly led to the confusion among the aforementioned earlier scholars.

And the land shall not be sold irreversibly, for Mine is the land, for you are sojourning settlers with Me. Rabbi Benamozegh examines the interpretations of the phrase “for Mine is the land” as understood by Rashi and the 13th century scholar, Naḥmanides. Although Rabbi Naftali Wessely distinguished between these two opinions, in Rabbi Benamozegh’s opinion both commentators agree that the verse highlights God’s sovereignty over the land, suggesting that it should not be sold in perpetuity. Further, Rabbi Benamozegh addresses Rabbi Wessely’s interpretation that the verse essentially conveys the idea: ‘I am the Lord of the land, and it is within My power to command what I desire.’ However, Rabbi Benamozegh critiques this view, observing that it diverges from the interpretations of both Rashi and Naḥmanides. He argues that adopting this proposed rationale behind the commandment could potentially apply to any land-related commandment, and does not explain why this particular commandment was given.

If one of your kin is in straits and has to sell part of a holding, the nearest redeemer shall come and redeem what that relative has sold. Rabbi Benamozegh delves into the historical and philosophical context surrounding the sale of ancestral property. He begins by highlighting the inherent difficulty faced by an Israelite in selling his ancestral heritage, a concept deeply rooted in the Torah and the chronicles of Jewish history. This difficulty is not merely a matter of legality but is steeped in a profound sense of cultural and spiritual responsibility towards one’s heritage. Rabbi Benamozegh then draws parallels with the wisdom of ancient philosophers, particularly those who journeyed to Egypt and learned from its priests. These philosophers, he notes, gained deep insights into the governance and ethical management of society. A notable reference to Plato is made, who, in Book V of Laws, emphasised the sanctity of ancestral land. Plato articulately warned against taking lightly one’s inherited land. He advises against engaging in its trade or sale, underscoring that such actions would not only displease God, who decreed the division of the land, but also go against the intentions of the legislator. Furthermore, Rabbi Benamozegh references the land of Lacedaemon in ancient Greece, where the sale of ancestral property was explicitly prohibited. This example serves to illustrate the widespread recognition, across different cultures and societies, of the importance of preserving ancestral heritage. He also touches upon the legal perspectives expressed by the formative rabbinic scholars of Ashkenazi Jewry, the Tosafot, active during the 12th-14th centuries. The Talmud records a dispute between Rab Yehuda quoting Shemuel and Rab, regarding whether everything stated in the Perashat Hamelekh (a list found in I Shemuel 8:11-17) is permitted for a king to do. Included in this list is that a king may take land as he sees fit. Rabbi Benamozegh then refers to the Tosafot, who argued that the field of Naboth, as described in Sefer Melakhim I, was ancestral property, and therefore, even according to Rab Yehuda (who allows for a king to seize property as he sees fit), Naboth was under no obligation to relinquish it to King Ahab. Consequently, Ahab’s murder of Naboth was unjustified.

Like a paid worker, like a resident slave he shall be under you, till the jubilee year he shall work under you, and he shall be released from you Rabbi Benamozegh delves into the complexities of this verse, particularly in the context of the Jubilee year and the status of Canaanite slaves (referred to here as a “toshab”, ‘resident’) and employed workers (referred to here as a “sakhir”, ‘hireling’) He begins by highlighting an apparent contradiction in different verses of Vayiqra. On one hand, our verse compares the release of an Israelite slave – which takes place at yobel – to the release of a Canaanite slave, suggesting that a Canaanite slave, is to be released in the Jubilee year. However, this interpretation becomes problematic when considering the subsequent verses, which imply that Canaanite slaves never go free, and instead are ‘inherited’ when the master dies. Rabbi Benamozegh notes that this contradiction seems to have been overlooked by many, with the exception of himself and the 13th century Rabbi Levi ben Gershon (Ralbag). Ralbag tries to resolve this contradiction by suggesting that the verse means that the Israelite slave, in this context, has elements which are similar to a paid worker (sakhir), and elements which are similar to a Canaanite slave (toshab). However, Rabbi Benamozegh finds Ralbag’s explanation unsatisfactory as it does not align with the straightforward meaning of the verse. Adding to the complexity, Rabbi Benamozegh references Rabbi Naftali Wessely, who also tried to resolve this contradiction by suggesting two separate definitions of the word ‘toshab’, one for our verse (which suggests that he goes free at yobel) and one for the later verse (which suggests that he does not). However, Rabbi Benamozegh believes that Rabbi Wessely’s efforts were ultimately unsuccessful too. This leaves Rabbi Benamozegh in a state of uncertainty about how to reconcile these conflicting interpretations. He expresses his ongoing contemplation and the need for further thought to understand the explanation behind the verses.

And should the hand of a sojourning settler with you attain means when your brother comes to ruin under you and is sold to a sojourning settler under you, or to a root of a sojourner’s clan Rabbi Benamozegh delves into the interpretation of the term “root” (עקר) as it appears in this verse. He notes that according to Ḥazal, the “root” refers to idolatry, and it refers to a slave who was sold to assist in serving idolatry. Rabbi Benamozegh references Rabbi Naftali Wessely, who proposes that idolatry is termed “root” because it is something that must be completely uprooted and eradicated. However, Rabbi Benamozegh finds this explanation somewhat tenuous and instead offers his own understanding. He suggests that “root” is metaphorically used in the same way ‘source’ might be, specifically in the context of idol worship. This metaphorical usage aligns with how the Sages often personify God as ‘The Root’ (iqar), implying that He is the fundamental source of all existence. This interpretation is further supported by the phrase “to a root of a sojourner’s clan” in our verse, as Rabbi Benamozegh notes that families among the non-Jewish nations were often identified by their gods (such as Lares and Penates, who were groups of deities dedicated to protecting the family and the Roman state; in essence, household gods). Additionally, he observes that these families traced their lineage and origins through their ancestors and forefathers, leading back to their idols. Therefore, in this context, idolatry is aptly referred to as ‘the root of a sojourner’s family,’ indicating its deep-seated and foundational role in the identity and heritage of these families. This understanding provides a more nuanced interpretation of the term “root” in our verse, linking it to the profound and intrinsic connection between idolatry and the familial and cultural identities of the nations.

No one shall hold crushing sway over him before your eyes Rabbi Benamozegh delves into the ethical and moral dimensions of this injunction. He references an interpretation of the Sifra that addresses a potential misunderstanding. One might incorrectly assume that it is permissible to intrude into the private quarters of one’s slave, to see that he is acting correctly. The Sifra clarifies that “before your eyes” (לעיניך) restricts the jurisdiction of the master to what is directly observable by him, without intrusion into the slave’s private environment. Rabbi Benamozegh emphasises the timeless relevance of this teaching, arguing that it was ahead of its time in advocating for the respect of privacy and personal boundaries. He suggests that in modern times, when the inclination to probe into others’ affairs has perhaps grown, this ancient wisdom remains profoundly pertinent. He highlights the importance of this prohibition with regards to the legislative power searching through people’s homes in order to know what takes place in them. He points out that the directive holds regardless of the social or religious status of the individuals involved, even in a case where, for example, an Israelite slave is owned by a Gentile, and the Israelites are in power. There is still no right for the Israelite government to invade the privacy of the Gentile to discover what takes place in his private domain. Rabbi Benamozegh extends this discussion by linking it to another similar commandment found in Debarim 24:10-11: “Should you make a loan of anything to your fellow man, you shall not come into his house to take his pledge. You shall stand outside, and the man to whom you made the loan shall bring out the pledge to you outside.” He draws a parallel between these restrictions, noting that both advocate for a respectful distance and a boundary in interactions, especially in situations with uneven power dynamics, where those in power are likely to resort to a more invasive approach, such as taking collateral for a loan.