Martin Buber, the German-Jewish philosopher, was once interrupted by a student while he was busy meditating on something in his study. Amid his spiritual reverie, he failed to give the visitor his time despite the distraught look on his student’s face. Buber was later informed that the student committed suicide. He realized that he should have been there for this person and subsequently spent the rest of life trying to give those around him his full attention.

Parshat Ki Teitzei contains the mitzvah of sending away the mother bird before one takes the young. The Torah even promises that one who performs this command will merit long life.

In instructing us to shoo the bird away, the Torah employs double language, “shaleach tishalach et ha’em- you shall surely send away the mother.” (Devarim 22:7)

Why the repetition?

The Talmud (Chullin 141a) teaches that one may think he need not send away the mother should he need her young for a mitzvah. The Torah employs the double language to remind us that even for a mitzvah we must “surely” shoo her away.

A Mitzvah gives you no right to trespass on others. In fact Nachmanides, in his comments to our parsha writes that the mitzvah to send away the mother bird, as well as the mitzvot that surround it, teach us the importance of being sensitive.

This world is full of oppression for the sake of religion. Is that really religion? Certainly not holiness. Our Tradition teaches us to be both sensitive to halakha and to be sensitive to our fellow man.

This message became clear for me several years ago when I was singing with a large group of students in the common room of a JTS building. We were having a kumzits: speaking words of Torah, playing guitars, banging djembes and singing loudly. We were sharing an intense spiritual experience, but the hour was getting late. Soon, students who wanted to sleep or to study began to show up and express their concern. As much as I wanted to continue, we had to stop. We were impinging on the rights of others.

There is a famous story about the holy Ba’al HaTanya, Rabbi Schnuer Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812). It was the middle of the night and he was immersed in Torah study in his son’s home. He was interrupted when he heard the crying of a child. The Ba’al HaTanya proceeded to enter the child’s room and pick her up. Upon his return to his studies, he noticed that his son too was awake studying Torah. He remarked, ‘if you can’t hear the crying of a child, there must be something wrong with your Torah study.’

The mitzvah of shiluach haken teaches that one’s spiritual experience, no matter how profound, can never come at the expense of others. If it does, it wasn’t so spiritual after all.