And maybe, just maybe, that scorecard isn't as harsh as you think.
Let's turn to the Shir HaShirim Rabbah, the great rabbinic commentary on the Song of Songs, also known as the Song of Solomon. It's a beautiful, passionate love poem, traditionally understood as an allegory for the relationship between God and Israel. And within it, there's this one verse that just sings: "Behold, you are fair, my love; behold, you are fair; your eyes are like doves" (Song of Songs 1:15).
But what does it mean? The Rabbah doesn't leave us hanging. It dives right in, unpacking the layers of meaning like peeling an onion. It reads, “Behold, you are fair, my love; behold, you are fair.” And then it elaborates: "Behold you are fair in mitzvot, behold you are fair in acts of kindness."
Mitzvot, plural of mitzvah, are commandments, good deeds, acts that connect us to something bigger than ourselves. But here's the thing: the Rabbah isn't just talking about the big, showy stuff. It's talking about the everyday, nitty-gritty details of Jewish life.
"Behold you are fair in positive commandments, behold you are fair in negative commandments." It's not just about the things you do, but also the things you don't do. It's about the whole package.
The text continues, "Behold you are fair in mitzvot of the house, in distributing teruma and tithes, behold you are fair in mitzvot of the field, in gleanings, forgotten sheaves, produce in the corner of the field, the tithe of the poor, and ownerless property." The Rabbah even goes into the specifics of agricultural laws, like leaving gleanings for the poor. According to the text, one is even obligated to declare the produce of the Sabbatical Year ownerless.
It covers everything from kashrut (dietary laws): "Behold you are fair regarding diverse kinds, behold you are fair regarding a cloak with ritual fringes," which touches on the laws of shatnez (forbidden mixtures of fabrics) and tzitzit (ritual fringes). To agricultural laws: "Behold you are fair regarding planting, behold you are fair regarding orla, behold you are fair regarding fruit of the fourth year." Orla refers to the prohibition of eating fruit from a tree during its first three years.
And even to the intimate details of ritual purity: "Behold you are fair regarding circumcision, behold you are fair regarding uncovering." This refers to the practice of priah, where after cutting the foreskin, one then pulls back a membrane and uncovers the corona.
Then, it moves to the spiritual practices: "Behold you are fair in prayer, behold you are fair in the reciting of Shema." The Shema is Judaism's central prayer, affirming the oneness of God. And ritual objects: "Behold you are fair regarding mezuza, behold you are fair regarding phylacteries. Behold you are fair regarding sukka, behold you are fair regarding the palm branch and the citron." Mezuza is a parchment scroll inscribed with verses from the Torah that is affixed to doorframes in Jewish homes and sukka is a temporary dwelling constructed for use during the week-long Jewish festival of Sukkot.
Finally, it broadens out again: "Behold you are fair regarding repentance, behold you are fair regarding good deeds. Behold you are fair in this world, behold you are fair in the World to Come."
So, what's the message here? Is it that God (or the lover in the Song of Songs) is keeping a checklist, meticulously marking off each mitzvah performed? I don't think so.
I think it's about seeing the beauty in the striving, in the effort, in the intention. It's about recognizing that even in the smallest acts of kindness, in the most seemingly insignificant rituals, there's a spark of the Divine.
It's about understanding that "fairness" isn't about perfection. It's about the whole journey, the ups and downs, the successes and the stumbles. You are fair. We are fair. Not because we're perfect, but because we're trying. And in that trying, there's a profound and enduring beauty.