As we begin the period of the three weeks that culminates in Tisha B'Av, we strive to find ways of improving ourselves, so we can ensure that this will be the last year without the Beis HaMikdash. The famous gemara in Gittin about Kamtza and Bar Kamtza teaches us a great deal about the cause of the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash and what we need to rectify in order to bring about its rebuilding.
The gemara tells us that Yerushalayim was destroyed as a result of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza. An unnamed man was a sworn enemy of Bar Kamtza but friendly with Kamtza. He sent his servant to invite Kamtza to a banquet, but the servant mistakenly invited Bar Kamtza. When Bar Kamtza came to the affair, the furious host demanded that he leave. Embarrassed, he offered to pay for his own meal in order to be allowed to stay. After that offer was refused, he volunteered to pay half the cost of the whole banquet, but instead he was thrown out. There were a number of rabbis in attendance, who remained silent throughout this unpleasant incident. Indignant at their passivity, Kamtza proceeded to slander the Jewish people to the Roman authorities, which began the course of events that ended with the destruction.
The Iyun Yaakov, ztz”l, asks why Kamtza is apportioned some of the blame for these events, since he did nothing throughout the whole story. The Ben Ish Chai, ztz”l, answers by suggesting that Kamtza was actually present at the banquet and witnessed how Bar Kamtza was treated. He could have prevented what happened by explaining the misunderstanding with the invitations. There is a principle that if someone can protest a wrongdoing but does not, it is considered as if he himself committed it. The Ben Ish Chai continues that this answer is even more compelling according to the Maharsha, who writes that Bar Kamtza was the son of Kamtza. Accordingly, Kamtza was surely aware of the feud between his son and friend, yet he did nothing to make peace between them. Because of his passivity, Kamtza is held partly responsible for the destruction.
Furthermore, the rabbis also seem to be held partially responsible for the course of events, because they did nothing to prevent Bar Kamtza’s humiliation. Thus, there seems to be a common theme running through this story: Inaction and apathy allowed such terrible consequences to take place. Had any of the people involved strived to prevent the injustices that took place, the Beis HaMikdash may not have been destroyed. Their indifference to the surrounding tragedies resulted in their passivity.
This lesson, that apathy destroyed the second Beis HaMikdash, seems somewhat contradictory to the Gemara in Yoma, which states that sinas chinam (baseless hatred) was the ultimate cause of the destruction. However, on deeper analysis it seems that sinas chinam is not limited to active hatred; it can also include apathy. We see this from the first time the root of the word sinah (hatred) appears in the Torah: In parashas Vayetzei, after Yaakov Avinu marries Rachel and Leah, the Torah tells us, “Hashem saw that Leah was senuah (literally, “hated”).” The commentaries have great difficulty in understanding that Yaakov really hated Leah. Accordingly, the Ramban explains that when one has two wives, the one he loves less is called senuah—he does not hate her, but he loves her less than his favorite. Therefore, says the Ramban, Yaakov did not hate Leah; rather, his love for her was lacking. And therefore we can understand that the word sinah does not necessarily imply an active hatred; rather, it can indicate a lack of sufficient care and love. Thus, the sinas chinam described in Yoma need not have been a virulent hatred; it could also have included apathy and lack of concern for one’s fellow.
In a similar vein, Rav Yehonasan Eibschutz, ztz”l, writes that the sinas chinam described in the Gemara refers not to active hatred, but to disinterest in preventing others from slipping into heretical views. He notes that many heretical sects had grown in that period, because people were not willing to rebuke them. He exclaims, “Do you have a greater hater than this: one who sees his friend drowning in a river [of sin] and does not protest?!” Based on this redefinition of sinah, it is clear that there is no contradiction between the story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza and the gemara in Yoma. The sinas chinam referred to in Yoma involves not only active hatred; it also includes apathy toward the pain of one’s fellow, and a refusal to help him grow spiritually.
The fact that the Beis HaMikdash has not been rebuilt means that these flaws are still very prevalent today, and they apply to many areas of our lives, whether it be in the realm of sharing another’s pain, trying to help those less fortunate than ourselves, or reaching out to the many people who are distant from Torah. This is a time of serious soul searching to assess our performance in these areas and strive to improve in some way.
May this be the last Tishah b’Av or mourning that we endure.
Showing posts with label Hatred. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hatred. Show all posts
Monday, July 18, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
DO NOT HATE YOUR BROTHER IN YOUR HEART - KEDOSHIM
Parshas Kedoshim is replete with Mitzvos that teach about interpersonal relationships. Towards the end of this section, the Torah instructs us: “Do not hate your friend in your heart, rebuke your friend, do not bear upon him sin”. There are a number of questions on this verse: Firstly, why does the Torah stress that one may not his fellow davke in his heart, thus implying that it is only forbidden to hate someone in one’s heart, but not in any other way. Secondly, the three parts to the verse do not seem to be connected, however the fact that they are in the same verse strongly suggest that there is some kind of connection – what is it? Finally, the meaning of the last clause in the verse, “do not bear upon him sin,” is unclear.
With regard to the Torah’s specification of hatred in one’s heart, many commentaries write that indeed the Torah is focusing particularly on hatred that is kept in one’s heart to the exclusion of hatred that is expressed externally. They explain that of course it is forbidden to express one’s displeasure with someone in a hostile fashion and that doing so can involve a number of prohibitions such as taking revenge and bearing a grudge. However, one who acts in this way does not transgress the Mitzvo to not hate one’s fellow in his heart, because he did not keep it inside, rather he expressed it to the subject of his displeasure. In this Mitzvo the Torah is focusing on situations in which a person feels hurt or offended by someone else and he chooses to keep his hatred inside, without discussing it with the person who hurt him. The problem with this inaction is that it will inevitably cause the hatred to fester with very negative consequences.
The Rambam offers the example in Tanach of the incident with Amnon and Tamar. After Amnon committed his terrible deed, the Prophet tells us that Tamar’s brother, Avshalom bore a great hatred for his half-brother, Amnon, and did not speak to him about what happened at all. The Ralbag writes that had he spoken to Amnon about what happened then the hatred would have dissipated. Instead it only grew to the point that Avshalom had Amnon murdered two years later. Even though Amnon clearly committed a grave sin and Avshalom seemingly had every right to be furious with him for what happened, nonetheless he is taken to task for not speaking to Amnon and letting the hatred fester with terrible consequences.
We have now answered the first question of why the Torah particularly focuses on hatred in one’s heart. This form of hatred has its own unique problem that is not found to the same degree in hatred which is expressed; that is that it results in an unnecessary escalation of the hatred which could have been avoided with dialogue. In this vein, the Sefer HaChinuch writes that internal hatred is worse than revealed hatred, and that is why the Torah singled out this form of hatred in particular. He continues with very strong language, writing, “the root reason for this Mitzvo; because hatred in one’s heart causes great evil between people, causing permanent conflict between brothers and friends… and it is the lowest and most disgusting trait which is the most reprehensible in the eyes of people with common sense.”
We can now also understand the continuation of the verse; “rebuke your friend”. The commentaries explain that in addition to referring to the standard rebuke that is required when one sees another person sinning, this Mitzvo also includes situations in which one is hurt by his fellow. The Torah instructs us, do not hate your fellow in your heart by keeping it to yourself, rather you must speak to him about it - that is the rebuke that the Torah refers to. The Ohr HaChaim explains that there are two likely consequences of speaking to him in a reasonable manner about the pain he has caused. Either he will explain his actions showing that in fact he did not commit a sin and that there was some kind of misunderstanding. Or, he will admit that he did behave incorrectly, and now that he realizes that damage that he caused, he will apologize and vow not to do it again. The Ohr HaChaim then explains the meaning of the final clause in the verse, “do not bear upon him sin”. It means that when someone hurts you, you should not immediately assume that he sinned, rather you should judge him favorably, and assume that he perhaps didn’t sin at all, and even if he did, that he would gladly repent if he realized the damage that he caused.
We have seen the reprehensible nature of internal hatred, and the accompanying necessity of speaking to a person towards whom one bears any sense of hatred because of something he did. Experience proves that when one follows the Torah’s instructions in these areas, the result is almost always that the person does explain himself and apologizes for inadvertent pain caused. The vast majority of people are not cruel and do not intend to hurt other people. Therefore when the victim of harsh words or some other form of behavior explains to the person how they were feeling, the result is almost always positive, preventing an unnecessary escalation of hatred, and avoiding a great deal of needless pain. It is not easy to approach someone in such a way, however the fear involved in no way exempts one from the Torah obligation to try to clarify the situation. May we all merit to have open and honest relationships where disputes can be quickly resolved.
With regard to the Torah’s specification of hatred in one’s heart, many commentaries write that indeed the Torah is focusing particularly on hatred that is kept in one’s heart to the exclusion of hatred that is expressed externally. They explain that of course it is forbidden to express one’s displeasure with someone in a hostile fashion and that doing so can involve a number of prohibitions such as taking revenge and bearing a grudge. However, one who acts in this way does not transgress the Mitzvo to not hate one’s fellow in his heart, because he did not keep it inside, rather he expressed it to the subject of his displeasure. In this Mitzvo the Torah is focusing on situations in which a person feels hurt or offended by someone else and he chooses to keep his hatred inside, without discussing it with the person who hurt him. The problem with this inaction is that it will inevitably cause the hatred to fester with very negative consequences.
The Rambam offers the example in Tanach of the incident with Amnon and Tamar. After Amnon committed his terrible deed, the Prophet tells us that Tamar’s brother, Avshalom bore a great hatred for his half-brother, Amnon, and did not speak to him about what happened at all. The Ralbag writes that had he spoken to Amnon about what happened then the hatred would have dissipated. Instead it only grew to the point that Avshalom had Amnon murdered two years later. Even though Amnon clearly committed a grave sin and Avshalom seemingly had every right to be furious with him for what happened, nonetheless he is taken to task for not speaking to Amnon and letting the hatred fester with terrible consequences.
We have now answered the first question of why the Torah particularly focuses on hatred in one’s heart. This form of hatred has its own unique problem that is not found to the same degree in hatred which is expressed; that is that it results in an unnecessary escalation of the hatred which could have been avoided with dialogue. In this vein, the Sefer HaChinuch writes that internal hatred is worse than revealed hatred, and that is why the Torah singled out this form of hatred in particular. He continues with very strong language, writing, “the root reason for this Mitzvo; because hatred in one’s heart causes great evil between people, causing permanent conflict between brothers and friends… and it is the lowest and most disgusting trait which is the most reprehensible in the eyes of people with common sense.”
We can now also understand the continuation of the verse; “rebuke your friend”. The commentaries explain that in addition to referring to the standard rebuke that is required when one sees another person sinning, this Mitzvo also includes situations in which one is hurt by his fellow. The Torah instructs us, do not hate your fellow in your heart by keeping it to yourself, rather you must speak to him about it - that is the rebuke that the Torah refers to. The Ohr HaChaim explains that there are two likely consequences of speaking to him in a reasonable manner about the pain he has caused. Either he will explain his actions showing that in fact he did not commit a sin and that there was some kind of misunderstanding. Or, he will admit that he did behave incorrectly, and now that he realizes that damage that he caused, he will apologize and vow not to do it again. The Ohr HaChaim then explains the meaning of the final clause in the verse, “do not bear upon him sin”. It means that when someone hurts you, you should not immediately assume that he sinned, rather you should judge him favorably, and assume that he perhaps didn’t sin at all, and even if he did, that he would gladly repent if he realized the damage that he caused.
We have seen the reprehensible nature of internal hatred, and the accompanying necessity of speaking to a person towards whom one bears any sense of hatred because of something he did. Experience proves that when one follows the Torah’s instructions in these areas, the result is almost always that the person does explain himself and apologizes for inadvertent pain caused. The vast majority of people are not cruel and do not intend to hurt other people. Therefore when the victim of harsh words or some other form of behavior explains to the person how they were feeling, the result is almost always positive, preventing an unnecessary escalation of hatred, and avoiding a great deal of needless pain. It is not easy to approach someone in such a way, however the fear involved in no way exempts one from the Torah obligation to try to clarify the situation. May we all merit to have open and honest relationships where disputes can be quickly resolved.
Monday, July 12, 2010
REDEFINING SINAS CHINAM - TISHA B'AV
As we approach Tishah b’Av, we strive to find ways of improving ourselves, so we can ensure that this will be the last year without the Beis HaMikdash. The famous gemara in Gittin about Kamtza and Bar Kamtza teaches us a great deal about the cause of the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash and what we need to rectify in order to bring about its rebuilding.
The gemara tells us that Yerushalayim was destroyed as a result of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza. An unnamed man was a sworn enemy of Bar Kamtza but friendly with Kamtza. He sent his servant to invite Kamtza to a banquet, but the servant mistakenly invited Bar Kamtza. When Bar Kamtza came to the affair, the furious host demanded that he leave. Embarrassed, he offered to pay for his own meal in order to be allowed to stay. After that offer was refused, he volunteered to pay half the cost of the whole banquet, but instead he was thrown out. There were a number of rabbis in attendance, who remained silent throughout this unpleasant incident. Indignant at their passivity, Kamtza proceeded to slander the Jewish people to the Roman authorities, which began the course of events that ended with the destruction.
The Iyun Yaakov, ztz”l, asks why Kamtza is apportioned some of the blame for these events, since he did nothing throughout the whole story. The Ben Ish Chai, ztz”l, answers by suggesting that Kamtza was actually present at the banquet and witnessed how Bar Kamtza was treated. He could have prevented what happened by explaining the misunderstanding with the invitations. There is a principle that if someone can protest a wrongdoing but does not, it is considered as if he himself committed it. The Ben Ish Chai continues that this answer is even more compelling according to the Maharsha, who writes that Bar Kamtza was the son of Kamtza. Accordingly, Kamtza was surely aware of the feud between his son and friend, yet he did nothing to make peace between them. Because of his passivity, Kamtza is held partly responsible for the destruction.
Furthermore, the rabbis also seem to be held partially responsible for the course of events, because they did nothing to prevent Bar Kamtza’s humiliation. Thus, there seems to be a common theme running through this story: Inaction and apathy allowed such terrible consequences to take place. Had any of the people involved strived to prevent the injustices that took place, the Beis HaMikdash may not have been destroyed. Their indifference to the surrounding tragedies resulted in their passivity.
This lesson, that apathy destroyed the second Beis HaMikdash, seems somewhat contradictory to the Gemara in Yoma, which states that sinas chinam (baseless hatred) was the ultimate cause of the destruction. However, on deeper analysis it seems that sinas chinam is not limited to active hatred; it can also include apathy. We see this from the first time the root of the word sinah (hatred) appears in the Torah: In parashas Vayetzei, after Yaakov Avinu marries Rachel and Leah, the Torah tells us, “Hashem saw that Leah was senuah (literally, “hated”).” The commentaries have great difficulty in understanding that Yaakov really hated Leah. Accordingly, the Ramban explains that when one has two wives, the one he loves less is called senuah—he does not hate her, but he loves her less than his favorite. Therefore, says the Ramban, Yaakov did not hate Leah; rather, his love for her was lacking. And therefore we can understand that the word sinah does not necessarily imply an active hatred; rather, it can indicate a lack of sufficient care and love. Thus, the sinas chinam described in Yoma need not have been a virulent hatred; it could also have included apathy and lack of concern for one’s fellow.
In a similar vein, Rav Yehonasan Eibschutz, ztz”l, writes that the sinas chinam described in the Gemara refers not to active hatred, but to disinterest in preventing others from slipping into heretical views. He notes that many heretical sects had grown in that period, because people were not willing to rebuke them. He exclaims, “Do you have a greater hater than this: one who sees his friend drowning in a river [of sin] and does not protest?!” Based on this redefinition of sinah, it is clear that there is no contradiction between the story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza and the gemara in Yoma. The sinas chinam referred to in Yoma involves not only active hatred; it also includes apathy toward the pain of one’s fellow, and a refusal to help him grow spiritually.
The fact that the Beis HaMikdash has not been rebuilt means that these flaws are still very prevalent today, and they apply to many areas of our lives, whether it be in the realm of sharing another’s pain, trying to help those less fortunate than ourselves, or reaching out to the many people who are distant from Torah. This is a time of serious soul searching to assess our performance in these areas and strive to improve in some way.
May this be the last Tishah b’Av or mourning that we endure.
The gemara tells us that Yerushalayim was destroyed as a result of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza. An unnamed man was a sworn enemy of Bar Kamtza but friendly with Kamtza. He sent his servant to invite Kamtza to a banquet, but the servant mistakenly invited Bar Kamtza. When Bar Kamtza came to the affair, the furious host demanded that he leave. Embarrassed, he offered to pay for his own meal in order to be allowed to stay. After that offer was refused, he volunteered to pay half the cost of the whole banquet, but instead he was thrown out. There were a number of rabbis in attendance, who remained silent throughout this unpleasant incident. Indignant at their passivity, Kamtza proceeded to slander the Jewish people to the Roman authorities, which began the course of events that ended with the destruction.
The Iyun Yaakov, ztz”l, asks why Kamtza is apportioned some of the blame for these events, since he did nothing throughout the whole story. The Ben Ish Chai, ztz”l, answers by suggesting that Kamtza was actually present at the banquet and witnessed how Bar Kamtza was treated. He could have prevented what happened by explaining the misunderstanding with the invitations. There is a principle that if someone can protest a wrongdoing but does not, it is considered as if he himself committed it. The Ben Ish Chai continues that this answer is even more compelling according to the Maharsha, who writes that Bar Kamtza was the son of Kamtza. Accordingly, Kamtza was surely aware of the feud between his son and friend, yet he did nothing to make peace between them. Because of his passivity, Kamtza is held partly responsible for the destruction.
Furthermore, the rabbis also seem to be held partially responsible for the course of events, because they did nothing to prevent Bar Kamtza’s humiliation. Thus, there seems to be a common theme running through this story: Inaction and apathy allowed such terrible consequences to take place. Had any of the people involved strived to prevent the injustices that took place, the Beis HaMikdash may not have been destroyed. Their indifference to the surrounding tragedies resulted in their passivity.
This lesson, that apathy destroyed the second Beis HaMikdash, seems somewhat contradictory to the Gemara in Yoma, which states that sinas chinam (baseless hatred) was the ultimate cause of the destruction. However, on deeper analysis it seems that sinas chinam is not limited to active hatred; it can also include apathy. We see this from the first time the root of the word sinah (hatred) appears in the Torah: In parashas Vayetzei, after Yaakov Avinu marries Rachel and Leah, the Torah tells us, “Hashem saw that Leah was senuah (literally, “hated”).” The commentaries have great difficulty in understanding that Yaakov really hated Leah. Accordingly, the Ramban explains that when one has two wives, the one he loves less is called senuah—he does not hate her, but he loves her less than his favorite. Therefore, says the Ramban, Yaakov did not hate Leah; rather, his love for her was lacking. And therefore we can understand that the word sinah does not necessarily imply an active hatred; rather, it can indicate a lack of sufficient care and love. Thus, the sinas chinam described in Yoma need not have been a virulent hatred; it could also have included apathy and lack of concern for one’s fellow.
In a similar vein, Rav Yehonasan Eibschutz, ztz”l, writes that the sinas chinam described in the Gemara refers not to active hatred, but to disinterest in preventing others from slipping into heretical views. He notes that many heretical sects had grown in that period, because people were not willing to rebuke them. He exclaims, “Do you have a greater hater than this: one who sees his friend drowning in a river [of sin] and does not protest?!” Based on this redefinition of sinah, it is clear that there is no contradiction between the story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza and the gemara in Yoma. The sinas chinam referred to in Yoma involves not only active hatred; it also includes apathy toward the pain of one’s fellow, and a refusal to help him grow spiritually.
The fact that the Beis HaMikdash has not been rebuilt means that these flaws are still very prevalent today, and they apply to many areas of our lives, whether it be in the realm of sharing another’s pain, trying to help those less fortunate than ourselves, or reaching out to the many people who are distant from Torah. This is a time of serious soul searching to assess our performance in these areas and strive to improve in some way.
May this be the last Tishah b’Av or mourning that we endure.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
ATONEMENT FOR THE SALE OF YOSEF - PARSHAS SHEKALIM
"This shall they give - everyone who passes through the census - a half shekel of the sacred shekel, the shekel is twenty geras, half a shekel as a portion to Hashem."
In Parshas Ki Sisa, the Torah instructs every man to give half a shekel (known as machsis hashekel) towards the communal offering given in the Mishkan (Tabernacle). Since the destruction of the Beis HaMikdosh, we no longer merit to have this Mitzvo, however, we remember it every year when we read Parshas Shekalim. Accordingly, there still remain valuable lessons that can be derived from the machsis hashekel.
The Medrash Rabbah offers a surprising reason for the mitzvo, and in particular, why the specific value of half a shekel, must be given. The Medrash explains that the giving of the half shekel is an atonement for the sale of Yosef Hatzaddik by his brothers. The brothers sold Yosef for twenty pieces of silver. This is equivalent to five shekel. Ten of the brothers sold Yosef, each one receiving one tenth of this value, making a half shekel each. Accordingly, since each brother gained half a shekel in the sale, their descendants were instructed to give half a shekel as an atonement. The obvious question to be asked is what is the connection between the giving of half a shekel and the sale of Yosef?
In order to answer this, we need to deepen our understanding of the sale of Yosef. The brothers knew that twelve tribes were destined to come from Yaakov Avinu. Each tribe would have its own unique qualities and they would all join together to combine to make up the Jewish people as a whole, with tribe complementing the others. The brothers decided that Yosef had lost his right to be part of this group, because of what they perceived to be his dangerous attitude and behavior. Therefore, they believed that they could remove Yosef from the destined 12 tribes, and be left with only eleven. The chiddush (novelty) of this approach was that they planned to remove one of the twelve pieces to the puzzle that would constitute the Jewish people. They felt that they could do without Yosef's potential contribution to the Jewish people, and the Jewish people could continue without him.
With this understanding we can now explain how the mitzvo of Shekalim atones for the sale of Yosef. The commentaries note the significance of the fact that one must give half a shekel as opposed to a full shekel. Many explain that it comes to teach us about the importance of unity amongst the Jewish people by showing that each person is only 'half a person' without combining with the strengths of his fellow man. One should not think that he can separate from his fellow Jews and be unaffected. A person who ha this attitude he will be incomplete. In this way, the mitzvo of giving half a shekel can act as an atonement for the sale of Yosef. Yosef's brothers thought that they could get along fine without Yosef's contribution to the Jewish people. Their mistake was that even if they believed him to be erring, he was still an essential part of the Jewish people. By giving half a shekel we remind ourselves that this is not the correct attitude - all Jews are part of a unified whole, and everyone needs to combine with their fellow.
This idea even extends itself to people who are not behaving in the most optimal fashion. Shortly after the mitzvo of giving half a shekel, HaShem commands us to combine a number of spices to make the incense. One of these is the chelbanah, which Chazal tell us has a foul smelling odor. Why then is it included in the ingredients for the incense? The Gemara explains that any communal fast that does not include sinners is not considered a proper fast. Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz zt"l explains that when the Jewish people are not united, then they are not considered one unit, and therefore the power of the community is drastically weakened.
The Bostoner Rebbe zt"l epitomized the attitude that every Jew should be treated with respect regardless of his religious affiliation. His funeral testified to this by the fact that there were numerous people attending who would not be classified as regular Bostoner Chassidim. He expressed his attitude in this area in a couple of brief sentences: "The trouble with our generation is we only love our fellow man if he's like us - if he davens in my shtiebel , if he has the same Rebbe, if he goes to the same yeshiva - then [he says] 've'ahavta lereyecha'. If he's not 'camocha', then I have no business with him." In a similar vein, he said, "When people try to disassociate one group from another, that's part of the 'torah' of sinas Yisrael (hatred of Jews). Every person can improve. Every group can improve. But it doesn't mean that these people have to be blackballed because some people think that they're not exactly the way they are..."
We have seen how the Medrash connecting the episode of the sale of Yosef to the mitzvo of giving half a shekel, teaches us that we should realize that we should never 'blackball' other Jews, regardless of who they are. May we all merit to learn from the words of the Bostoner Rebbe zt"l and emulate his actions, in striving to unite all Jews.
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