Parashat Shemot — Covenant is not the same as brotherhood

This Dvar Torah is in tribute and memory to my grandmother Els Solomon-Prins Bendheim who passed away gracefully this evening in her hundredth year and left a heritage of covenant and the importance of family for generations of descendants. May her memory be a blessing to us all.

When I delivered a guest lecture at an undergraduate Economics course at Harvard University a few months ago, I described the Torah’s vision for the economy and found difficulty in identifying the appropriate expression for this Hebrew phrase ״כלכלת אחווה״, literally an “economy of brotherhood.” I coined this phrase in my book Roaring Tribe (Hebrew) on Leviticus, where I described the foundations of what I believe to be the economic model promoted by the Torah for Israel. In the end, for the lecture and other English translations, I chose the phrase “Covenantal Capitalism.” Indeed, a covenant is the abstract principle at the foundation of brotherhood, my original phrase in Hebrew.

What is “Covenantal Capitalism” exactly?

Covenantal Capitalism provides the foundation for broad and mutual economic growth, a common sense of belonging and shared principles. This economic model provided by the Torah synthesizes the principles of capitalism, the sanctity and right to private property, as well as the human drive to create and earn wealth in God’s world, all bolstered by a shared sense of mutual responsibility and an imperative to invest in the financial success of others to also cause their economic prosperity. This economy requires short term concessions of the individual for the longer term economic growth of your brothers, but these, just like all successful investments, benefit personal, communal and national economic growth, whose fruits are ultimately enjoyed by all.

A covenant that lasts for the long-run creates strong bonds of brotherhood between members of the covenant, especially if the mutual relationship survives difficulties, which often bring people closer together.

This week’s parasha reveals another aspect of the covenant.

After several years building his home in Midian, Moses is asked by God to return to Egypt to rescue the Israelites from slavery and bring them to freedom. He eventually accepts the mission and embarks on his return to Egypt. Then a surprising and inexplicable event occurs:

At a night encampment on the way, God encountered him and sought to kill him. So Zipporah took a flint and cut off her son’s foreskin, and touched his legs with it, saying, “You are truly a bridegroom of blood to me!” (Exodus 4:24–25).

Moses — who was born already circumcised according to Midrash Tanhuma on Parashat Noah — held “dual citizenship” with no issue. He was born into a family of Israelites, was raised and educated in Pharaoh’s palace, saved a Hebrew man, killed an Egyptian, and later when he saved the daughters of Midian they said: “An Egyptian rescued us from the shepherds” (2:19). Maybe now upon God’s call to action to return to Egypt and save the Israelites, Moses will choose one identity, the side of the Israelites, once and for all. But it is also possible that Moses will turn to Pharaoh and request the Israelites’ freedom purely from a universalist moral perspective, not as a member of the Israelite tribe or a messenger of God. Moses’ son, however, was not circumcised, the outcome of the original dynastic covenant between God and Abraham.

It is Zipporah, the Midianite wife of Moses, who understands the importance of the covenant and the framework it provides for people to manifest their aspiration to be part of something bigger than themselves in the long-term. Zipporah the outsider, who connected through Moses to a different and meaningful future, understands the opportunity inherent in the human ability to commit to identity, family and nation. She recognizes the power of a person’s commitment to sacrifice him or herself for their people and heritage, to forge a better future for all.

The Babylonian Talmud in Tractate Kiddushin (70b) describes how converts to Judaism are difficult for the People of Israel like leprosy. In the name of Rabbi Abraham Ha’ger (Rabbi Abraham the Convert), The Tosaofot interpreted: “Because converts take the commandments seriously and become experts in them, they are difficult for the Jews like leprosy.” Something an outsider commits to, takes seriously and performs can confound and challenge those who are born into this covenant and who take it for granted. Converts to Judaism are a living reminder of the potential that lies in the people of Israel if we commit to a covenant of brotherhood.

In order for a covenantal relationship to be realized, mutual and continued sacrifice must be made over the long-term. The covenant, in turn, fosters brotherhood, connection and belonging. On the day of the forging of the covenant, only potential exists — the promise of a shared future and mutual expression of trust. Trust is the key underlying value — trust in one another and a shared code of values to sustain the covenant for the long-run. Only over the long-term is the covenant realized. In turn, over the long term better economic growth is achieved.

Thanks to Zipporah, Moses’s sons, his future, become part of the covenant. Even if they never lived in Egypt, they belong to the people who escaped slavery to freedom, and received the shared value code of the Torah at Mount Sinai. They become part of both the future freed people and its economic success at the Exodus.

Balaji Srinivasan coined some similar concepts, the “win-win economy.” I am advocating Covenantal Capitalism which requires investing in the other. Which is superior?