I hate high heels! And no, as a vertically challenged man, it's not out of jealousy for the stylized life afforded to woman, which allows them - despite a similar challenge - to grab things off top shelves with ease. If that were the case, I would have no justification whatsoever to use such a strong word as "hate." No, my justification to voice this intense feeling comes from experience. Yes, even I have worn high heels. Not to get onto an amusement park ride prematurely, but I put them on to raise additional funds for the American Cancer Society (ACS).

During its 2nd Annual Celebrity Waiter Dinner in Jackson, MS, I was tasked to get as many tips from my table as possible. Without thinking, I asked a fellow waiter, a local female DJ, if I might borrow her 6'' heels. As this would raise additional dollars for ACS, she agreed. In spite of some tense moments pouring hot coffee, everything went well for my guests. My feet, on the other hand, were a different story. Days afterwards, they were still in pain. Having literally walked a mile or so in someone else's shoes, I can say accurately and assuredly that high heels are hell!

But, is walking a mile in someone else's shoes enough to know how they truly feel? Maybe we should do it longer: perhaps a day, a week, or even a full month? "Try an entire year," suggests this double Torah portion of B'har/B'chukkotai. "For though you may sow your field and prune your vineyard, as well as gather its yield for six straight years, in the seventh year," warns the Bible, "the land shall observe a Sabbath of complete rest, a Sabbath of the Lord..." During its Sabbatical, clarifies the texts, "you may eat only what the land will produce." (Leviticus 25:3-7)

It's unequivocal; from the land owner to those who work the land, all shall observe this rite. As such, comments Rabbi Harold Kushner, the Sabbatical year - in addition to being good for the land - was instituted to help the people. "Because sometimes," writes Rabbi Kushner, "the wealthy people in society don't believe poor people are actually suffering; they suspect that they are just too lazy to provide for themselves." Therefore, the Bible imposes this Sabbatical, as to "let the wealthy undergo the experience of the poor, not knowing whether there will be enough to eat [throughout the year]. For then," writes Rabbi Kushner, "their attitudes will change."[i]

It's not just with the poor that we make these grand conclusions from such quick observations and so little information. When we see someone who is overweight, we may think, "he or she just needs to get off the couch a little more and eat better." When we see someone in a wheelchair, we may assume that "they cannot do anything for themselves and obviously need our help." And, when we see a baby cry unrelentingly, we may start raising serious questions about his or her parental care as well as to "thank God our child is not like that." Judgments like these happen all the time.

And, according to the TV reality show "What Would You Do?," they should. Because, as this hidden-camera, ethical drama shows, there are times when and where these premature and amateur analyses and interventions are not only appropriate, but essential to keep our society functioning at its best. Yes, unlike the three monkeys that hear no evil, see no evil, and speak no evil, we are encouraged to be ever aware and responsive to all the good and all the bad occurring in and around us. For, as the great German-Israeli-American sociologist Amitai Etzioni wrote, "Responsiveness is the cardinal feature of any and all authentic and effective communities."[ii]

However, we cannot achieve this effective society from just hearing, seeing, or speaking to those around us who are experiencing challenges. We must, as this Torah portion prescribes, allow ourselves to experience it with them firsthand. The military calls this "providing ministry of presence," for it allows people to relate better with one another, laying the ground work for real and lasting change. This, we see, from the life of Moses. Though raised in a home of privilege, Moses walks out to witness the harsh labor of his kinfolk.[iii] Only then did his attitude change; only then did God enlist his service of helping to change this world for the better.

This is the true service we are called upon to provide. And, sure, we can continue to perform such a service in comfort, as we have often done before, wearing the figurative flat or loafer, the symbolic slipper or sandal. Though, as this portion presents, we can and should do more. Therefore, may we voluntarily step into places of discomfort (such as high heels). There, may we find new feelings, new attitudes, new perspectives, which will allow us to walk not just a mile or two in someone else's shoes, but walk with them, hand-in-hand. For, then, our feet become more than a means of individual transportation. They become tools of community transformation!