46 | FEBRUARY 9 • 2023
T
he Ten Commandments given
in parshat Yitro are the most
famous religious and moral code
in history. Until recently, they adorned
American courtrooms. They still adorn
most synagogue arks. Rembrandt gave
them their classic artistic
expression in his portrait of
Moses, about to break the
tablets on seeing the golden
calf. John Rogers Herbert’s
massive painting of Moses
bringing down the tablets
of law dominates the main
committee room of the
House of Lords. The twin tablets with their
10 commands are the enduring symbol of
eternal law under the sovereignty of God.
It is worth remembering, of course,
that the “ten commandments” are
not Ten Commandments. The Torah
calls them aseret hadevarim (Exodus
34:28), and tradition terms them aseret
hadibrot, meaning the “ten words” or “ten
utterances.”
We can understand this better in the
light of documentary discoveries in the
20th century, especially Hittite covenants
or “suzerainty treaties” dating back to
1400-1200 BCE, that is, around the time
of Moses and the exodus. These treaties
often contained a twofold statement of the
laws laid down in the treaty, first in general
outline, then in specific detail. That is
precisely the relationship between the “ten
utterances” and the detailed commands of
parshat Mishpatim (Exodus 22-23). The
former are the general outline, the basic
principles of the law.
Usually they are portrayed, graphically
and substantively, as two sets of five, the
first dealing with relationships between
us and God (including honoring our
parents since they, like God, brought us
into being), the second with the relations
between us and our fellow humans.
However, it also makes sense to see
them as three groups of three. The first
three (one God, no other God, do not
take God’s name in vain) are about God,
the Author and Authority of the laws. The
second set (keep Shabbat, honor parents,
do not murder) are about createdness.
Shabbat reminds us of the birth of the
universe. Our parents brought us into
being. Murder is forbidden because we are
all created in God’s image (Genesis 9:6).
The third three (don’t commit adultery,
don’t steal, don’t bear false witness) are
about the basic institutions of society:
the sanctity of marriage, the integrity of
private property and the administration
of justice. Lose any of these and freedom
begins to crumble.
This structure serves to emphasize what
a strange command the tenth is: “Do not
be envious of your neighbor’s house. Do
not be envious of your neighbor’s wife,
his slave, his maid, his ox, his donkey or
anything else that is your neighbor’s.” At
least on the surface this is different from
all the other rules, which involve speech or
action.
Envy, covetousness, desiring what
someone else has, is an emotion, not a
thought, a word or a deed. And, surely,
we can’t help our emotions. They used to
be called the “passions,” precisely because
we are passive in relation to them. So how
can envy be forbidden at all? Surely, it
only makes sense to command or forbid
matters that are within our control. In any
case, why should the occasional spasm of
envy matter if it does not lead to anything
harmful to other people?
THE HIGH PRICE OF ENVY
Here, it seems to me, the Torah is
conveying a series of fundamental truths
we forget at our peril. First, as we have
been reminded by cognitive behavioral
therapy, what we believe affects what we
feel. Narcissists, for instance, are quick
to take offense because they think other
people are talking about or “dissing”
(disrespecting) them, whereas often other
people aren’t interested in us at all. Their
belief is false, but that does not stop them
feeling angry and resentful.
Second, envy is one of the prime drivers
of violence in society. It is what led Iago to
mislead Othello with tragic consequences.
Closer to home it is what led Cain to
murder Abel. It is what led Abraham and
then Isaac to fear for their lives when
famine forced them temporarily to leave
home. They believe that, married as they
are to attractive women, the local ruler will
kill them so that they can take their wives
into their harem.
Most poignantly, envy lay at the heart of
the hatred of the brothers for Joseph. They
resented his special treatment at the hands
of their father, the richly embroidered
cloak he wore and his dreams of becoming
the ruler of them all. That is what led them
to contemplate killing him and eventually
to sell him as a slave.
Rene Girard, in his classic Violence and
the Sacred, says that the most basic cause
of violence is mimetic desire, that is, the
desire to have what someone else has,
which is ultimately the desire to be what
someone else is. Envy can lead to breaking
many of the other commands: It can move
SPIRIT
A WORD OF TORAH
Rabbi Lord
Jonathan
Sacks
To Thank Before
We Think