By: Eddie Feves
Associate Director, Jewish Community Relations Council (JCRC)
Like a lot of kids, the walls of my room were covered in posters. Athletes, musicians, superheroes – the type of people a kid looks up to and wants to be like. But unlike most kids, one of the posters on my wall was of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, z’’l.
Yes, I’m a nerd. No, that’s not the point.
RBG’s poster was captioned with three words in Hebrew: צֶדֶק צֶדֶק תִּרְדֹּף – “Justice, justice, shall you pursue.” These words – which come from this week’s Torah portion, Shoftim – became her personal motto, and a reflection of her approach to litigation and jurisprudence. In fact, they became the title of her last book – a curated reflection telling the story of Justice Ginsburg’s unwavering commitment to constitutional justice. I cannot recommend this book enough, and I would be happy to loan you my copy.
But let me come back to that poster, and that phrase: צֶדֶק צֶדֶק תִּרְדֹּף – “Justice, justice, shall you pursue.” When I was younger, those words felt like straightforward instructions: be a good person, be fair, do what is right.
I still aspire to be all of those. But now that I’m older (and perhaps wiser, although that’s up for debate), I’ve come to appreciate the nuance in the Torah’s choice of words. תִּרְדֹּף – “pursue” – is a verb. Instead of telling us to be just, the Torah tells us to pursue justice.
There’s a certain humility in that distinction. Through it, we understand that “justice” is not something we can simply achieve and declare ourselves done. It’s an ideal that always remains just beyond our reach, challenging us to continually examine ourselves, recognize where we fall short, and strive to do better.
But if justice is something we are called to continuously pursue, then the responsibility cannot rest on any one individual. Our individual contributions may be meaningfully, but they are necessarily incomplete, to be built upon by the wisdom of others. I am therefore reminded of wisdom from Pirkei Avot: “לֹא עָלֶיךָ הַמְּלָאכָה לִגְמֹר, וְלֹא אַתָּה בֶן חוֹרִין לִבָּטֵל מִמֶּנָּה” – It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you free to neglect it.
In Shoftim, the Israelites are in a remarkable moment of transformation. After generations in exile, they are about to become a nation in their own land – complete with institutions, offices, and political power. These are structures that are designed to outlast the individual, mechanisms to continue the work of peoplehood from one generation to the next. But the Torah understands that institutions are only as just as the people entrusted with them, and places expectations and obligations on those who serve as judges, kings, and priests.
And so I come back to Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Her life was a powerful example of an individual pursuing justice, but her legacy is larger than the work of any one person. She began her career challenging inequality from outside the halls of power, using litigation to change discriminatory laws. Later, from the Supreme Court, she helped shape the constitutional principles that would govern those same questions for generations to come.
The poster on my wall taught me to admire someone who pursued justice. Today, I understand that pursuit as something we inherit from those who came before us, to carry forward with us, and eventually pass on to those who come after us.
Shabbat Shalom.
Please email Eddie Feves at efeves@jewishcolorado.org with questions or comments.