A Matter of Opinion

Parshas Acharei Mos

Posted on May 5, 2017 (5777) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

The two festivals of Pesach and Shavuos come in such rapid succession they almost seem like one extended celebration. Indeed, some commentators compare the intervening days between Pesach and Shavuos, when we count down to the Omer, to Chol Hamoed, the Intermediate Days of the Festivals. By rights, this should be one long period of uninterrupted festivity – but it is not.

The days of Sefiras Haomer, the Countdown to the Omer, are also days of mourning and sadness. We mourn a catastrophe that befell the Jewish people in Talmudic times, shortly after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. The Talmud (Yevamos 62) tells us that a plague broke out among the disciples of Rabbi Akiva during the period between Pesach and Shavuos, killing twenty-four thousand of them.

This was indeed a terrible tragedy, but an annual memorial is nevertheless somewhat puzzling. Unfortunately, Jewish history is a long succession of terrible tragedies that blankets the entire calendar, and if we were to observe annual mourning for them all, we would never cease to mourn. Our Sages, therefore, selected only the most disastrous calamities for annual commemoration. Why then does this plague rank among the most disastrous calamities ever to befall the Jewish people?

Furthermore, let us consider the cause of the plague. According to the Talmud, it happened because “they did not have sufficient respect for one another.” Two problems immediately come to mind.

First, why would an infringement on the respect of their fellow disciples precipitate such dire consequences?

Second, why indeed did they fail to respect each other sufficiently? Rabbi Akiva was one of the foremost proponents of ve’ahavta lereiacha kamocha, loving one’s fellow as oneself; he considered it one of the fundamental concepts of the Torah. Surely then, he would have stressed this idea to his disciples, impressing on them the importance of treating other people with absolute respect. After hearing such words from the holy lips of Rabbi Akiva, how could twenty-four thousand of his disciples even consider being disrespectful to one another?

The commentators explain that Rabbi Akiva’s disciples were certainly people of sterling character who would never have dreamed of uttering a single rude word to another person. Rather, their “disrespect” manifested itself in the intellectual sense.

The Talmud tells us that just as no two people are exactly identical in their appearance, they are also not identical in their outlook and opinions. Every person has his own particular way of looking at things, and no one else in the world has exactly the same perspective. When Rabbi Akiva taught his disciples, each one absorbed the teachings according to the nuances of his particular perspective. This was, of course, as was to be expected. But how did they view the opinions of their colleagues?

This is where the “disrespect” came into play. They could not acknowledge the possibility that other people’s perspectives might also have validity. Each one considered their own opinion the absolute truth and the opinions of his colleagues as erroneous. This attitude reflected a lack of objectivity and intellectual honesty. They were so enamored of their own wisdom that they could not see the wisdom of others and respect their opinions. The transmission of the truth of the Torah to future generations, however, required intellectual purity and integrity, and these disciples were found lacking in that respect. Therefore, in order to prevent the chain of transmission from being compromised, these disciples perished in a plague.

And we mourn. We mourn the loss of twenty-four thousand great Torah scholars. But even more, we mourn the riches of Torah knowledge and insight we could have gained from an additional twenty four thousand conduits of Torah, with all the textures and nuances of their varied perspectives – if only they had been worthy. How these disciples could have made the Torah blossom before our eyes – if only they had been able to achieve perfect objectivity. But they did not, and our loss is irreplaceable.

In our own lives, we sometimes become so wrapped up in our own point of view that we fail to acknowledge the possibility that an opposing point of view may also have validity. There is an element of egotism and conceit behind such an attitude. We love ourselves, and therefore we must be right. But if we find it in ourselves to love our fellow as we do ourselves, we will suddenly see the world with a new and profound clarity. Things that bothered us will no longer do so. Things we did not appreciate will take on new value and importance. And more likely than not, we will discover we have gained much wisdom and peace of mind.

Text Copyright © 2011 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

Rabbi Reich is on the faculty of the Ohr Somayach Tanenbaum Education Center.

Guard Yourself

Parshas Tazria Metzorah

Posted on April 13, 2010 (5770) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

The laws of plagues, purity and impurity are purely chukim – laws that defy our limited rational capabilities to understand. But this is perhaps the very message that the Torah wishes us to learn and internalize. Much of life is not rational and does not fit into our accustomed schedules and plans. And even the most hardened secularist and/or rationalist must admit that much of life is inexplicable.

Weird things happen to all of us. There are forces in the world, dreams, inspirations, as well as strangers that suddenly appear that are present in our lives and are real to us though we have no idea how or why they influence us.

The whole subject of purity and impurity occupies great sections of the Torah. In the real but purely spiritual world of the Torah, purity and impurity are sensations that are real and can be felt and experienced. The rabbis decreed that the “land of the nations” meaning the part of the world that is not within the biblical boundaries, carries with it automatic impurity.

The air of the Land of Israel is purity in itself. The rabbis said that the air of the Land of Israel is one of wisdom and knowledge. It is its purity that leads to its atmosphere of true wisdom and knowledge. We are all aware that in cases of illness, G-d forbid, the medical treatment for the patient is oftentimes the inhalation of pure oxygen. In the world of the spirit, pure oxygen is the air of the Land of Israel.

There are plagues that descend upon individuals. There are other plagues that infest a human being’s clothing. And, there are plagues that can infect one’s home and dwelling. Thus there is no part of human existence, that is exempt or immune from the possibility of plagues and impurity.

Many of the family laws of the Jewish home are constructed on the basis of injecting purity into the relationship and into the family and home. There are no medical or physical rationales existing to these laws that are readily justifiable to the rational thinker. But the existence and observance of those laws is unquestionably what has preserved the Jewish home and family structure throughout the millennia.

It is the unseen and intangible that truly carries us through life and its vicissitudes. And that is why the Torah devotes so much space and teachings to such a seemingly esoteric subject. Someone who is shrouded in impurity and whose life is dominated by the plagues that exist all around, will find life unrewarding and depressing.

It is the latent purity and holiness within us that gives us a feeling of nobility and satisfaction in our lives. So, our task in life is to guard ourselves from the plagues that surround us, from the impurities that infiltrate the very core of our being, and to try and breathe the pure air of holiness that the Torah attempts to pump into our very beings.

Shabat shalom,
Rabbi Berel Wein

Surrounded by Mirrors

Parshas Tazria

Posted on March 30, 2011 (5771) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

The city gates swing open, and a solitary man walks out, carrying a bundle of food and personal belonging on his shoulder. The gates swing shut behind him. He walks to a secluded spot, puts down his things and sits down to contemplate his fate in the solitude of his isolation. As we take a closer look, we notice strange skin lesions that resemble leprosy. Who is this man, and why has he been banished to sit in isolation outside the city? And why does he have lesions on his skin?

This man is called a metzora. The lesions, called tzoraas, are not caused by toxins or microbes. Rather, they are a physical manifestation of a spiritual malaise. Our Sages tell us that a person who gossips and slanders other people is afflicted with tzoraas, and as we read in this week’s Torah portion, he must go into isolation until it fades away.

Why isolation? the commentators want to know. Wouldn’t it have been better for him to deal with the problems of his character in the company of his friends and loved ones? Wouldn’t their emotional and moral support help him overcome his malicious inclinations?

Furthermore, the Torah states, “Impure, impure, he shall call out.” What is the significance of the repetition of the word impure? Why wouldn’t once suffice?

The commentators explain that our attitudes toward other people are always a reflection of our own level of spirituality and refinement. We see ourselves in others. People of good will and magnanimous spirit will always view others in the most favorable light. They will attribute only the best motives to the actions of other people. Mean-spirited people, on the other hand, are surrounded by mirrors. They always view others with suspicion and disdain, and they automatically assume that others look at them in the same negative way.

This is the implicit meaning of the statement, “Impure, impure, he shall call out.” The impure person sees himself in others and calls out, “Impure!”

A person afflicted with tzoraas because he accused other people of improper behavior is most probably guilty of those same offenses himself. He knows what evil things he himself would do in certain situation and therefore he assumes everyone else would do the same. The company of others is like poison to such a person, because he sees every person he encounters through the malignant filter of his own debased personality and character. Therefore, the Torah decrees, it is better that he sit in isolation and contemplate what he has become. It is better that he face the harsh reality that he is unworthy of human company. In this way, he will be perhaps take stock of himself and decide to make fundamental changes.

A man sought the advice of a great sage about a problem he was having with his son. “How do I improve my relationship with my son? I try to show him how I care about him by giving him many compliments. I compliment his schoolwork, his behavior at home, his singing, everything. But he always accuses me of insincerity. ‘You just saying it, but you don’t really mean it,’ he says. What should I do?”

“The problem, my friend,” said the sage, “is that your son does not see the good in other people. Therefore, when you say you see good in him, he doesn’t believe it. Spend more time pointing out to him all the goodness you see in other people. Once he sees that, he will believe that others may see goodness in him.”

In our own lives, we often encounter people who relish speaking ill of others. First of all, we must not accept slander at face value. Most probably, it is a reflection of the deficiencies of the talebearers themselves. And even when such people victimize us, we should not react with anger and retaliation. As long as we maintain our high standards, as long we do not stoop to the level of our detractors, we can take comfort in the knowledge that it is not us that these people are seeing but themselves.

Text Copyright © 2011 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

Rabbi Reich is on the faculty of the Ohr Somayach Tanenbaum Education Center.

Plagues: Personal, Societal and Familial

Parshas Tazria Metzorah

Posted on April 17, 2015 (5775) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

We once again read about types of plagues and dermatological illnesses that create a climate of impunity and negativity. We are no longer privy to the identity and physical appearance of these plagues that are recorded for us in this week’s Torah reading. These plagues are or were unknown to us and they are certainly not the modern form of leprosy, which was the usual understanding of them for number of past centuries. In the absence of true understanding of these plagues and of the existence of the Temple, currently this subject matter is an esoteric one rather than theoretical.

Nevertheless, as the Torah is always multi-layered and to be understood on many different levels and planes, there are certainly lessons that we can derive from this week’s Torah reading that are relevant to our lives and society. All of us encounter plagues during our lifetime. They may be physical, mental, spiritual, financial, family associated or work related.

The Torah reading divides its litany of plagues into different categories. There are plagues that affect the physical body of the person, while there are others that manifest themselves in the clothing and/or in the structure of the home and residence where the person lives. Many of the commentators to the Torah have seen this division of the plagues that can afflict human beings as being categorized as personal, societal and familial.

These three areas of life – one’s own being and body, one’s society and community and one’s family are the areas of life and existence that are most vulnerable to plagues – or troubles. They are also those areas of life that can bring one the most satisfaction and sense of achievement. In the world of the Torah, what is most fragile and potentially impure is also what can be the greatest source of strength and holiness.

These three areas of life require constant vigilance and effort to remain healthy, productive and noble. The Torah bids us to care for ourselves. Our bodies and our health are not to be abused or taken for granted. We oftentimes sacrifice our physical well-being for transitory gain and imagined security. This type of attitude creates a plague within us that sooner or later will affect and injure us.

Part of the idea of the quarantine that the Torah describes for us in this week’s Torah reading is to give the individual an opportunity to analyze and think about one’s self and how to properly take care of one’s own physical well-being.

Next, no person should live in isolation… and Belonging to and contributing to a community – synagogues, charitable organizations, study groups, etc. – becomes our clothing, so to speak – the external persona that we project. The great Choni Hamageil of Second Temple times said it well: “if there is no community, then there is only death.”

And finally, family obligations should trump all other imagined obligations. There is a responsibility of great magnitude in bringing children into this world. That responsibility for raising, guiding, caring and training one’s own family cannot be shunted off to schools, institutions, peer groups or others. To attempt to do so invites the appearance of plagues in one’s own home. So, we should always be on the lookout to avoid these types of plagues. that do exist and abound in our world.

Shabbat shalom

Rabbi Berel Wein

 

Have A Good Look

Parshas Tazria Metzorah

Posted on April 9, 2013 (5773) By Rabbi Yochanan Zweig | Series: Rabbi Zweig on the Parsha | Level: Beginner

 “…he shall be brought to Aharon the Kohein, or to one of his sons the Kohanim” (13:2)

The Torah discusses a person who is afflicted with the spiritual malady known as “tzora’as”. Although it is a spiritual affliction, tzora’as manifests itself physically, in the form of a skin disease.¹ An individual suffering from this disease must be brought before a Kohein to be diagnosed. The Seforno questions why the Kohein is the only person empowered with the ability to proclaim the affected individual either tamei – impure or tahor – pure.²

In all prior situations in Sefer Vayikra where a Kohein’s services were required, the Torah stated that the service shall be performed by either a Kohein or the children of Aharon the Kohein.³ However, concerning tzora’as, the Torah states that the metzora shall be brought to either Aharon himself or one of his children.⁴ Why does the Torah personalize Aharon’s involvement in this procedure?

Very often the manner in which a person validates his own standing in life and boosts his self-esteem is by focusing on the failures and shortcomings of others. The Mishna describes Aharon’s nature as an “ohev shalom verodeif shalom” – one who loves and pursues harmony.⁵ Aharon had the ability to create harmony in relationships where there had previously been enmity.⁶ Only a person who is predisposed to focusing on the positive traits of others can have this ability. Seeing the positive in others is what allowed Aharon to present a person’s former enemy as an individual worthy of his friendship.

It is this quality of Aharon which makes the Kohein worthy of diagnosing tzora’as. Only a person who searches for the positive in people is qualified to evaluate their flaws. A person whose predisposition is to search out the flaws of others, cannot render an objective judgement.

It is precisely for this reason that the Torah emphasizes Aharon personally. Unlike other services that any Kohein can perform by dint of his ancestral right, the ability to diagnose a metzora stems from his non-judgmental nature, to which all Kohanim are predisposed due to Aharon’s perfection of this quality.

1.See Rabbi S.R. Hirsch for definition of Tzora’as
2.13:2
3.See 1:4,7,8,11 etc.
4.13:2
5.Avos:1:12
6.Avos D’Rav Nosson

 

Outstanding

“and the Kohein shall place at the middle part of the ear of the man being purified”(14:25)

This week’s parsha records the purification process that the metzora, an individual with a skin malady, undergoes to permit him to regain entry into society. The tzora’as malady from which the metzora suffers is a result of “loshon harah”, the slanderous conversation in which the metzorah has engaged; hence the name metzora from the term “motzi rah” – “one who brings forth evil”.¹ After the metzora is separated for seven days, the Kohein takes blood from the guilt-offering brought by the metzora and dabs it on his right ear, thumb and big toe as part of the final purification process.² This process is found on only one other occasion, the inauguration of the Kohein. Why does the Kohein, who is the most noble and elevated member of Klal Yisroel, undergo the same process as the individual who has just been ousted from society as a result of his odious behavior?

The Talmud records that the primordial serpent walked upright and was the original king of all beasts. After instigating Chava to sin, the serpent was cursed by the loss of its limbs and the inability to savor its food. The serpent, which is also the symbol of loshon horah, proclaimed that just as he is unable to enjoy his food, there is no satisfaction in speaking loshon harah, “mah yisron l’baal halashon”³ – “There is no benefit gained from the speaking of loshon harah.” The Talmud relates that while a minority of people are susceptible to the desires of promiscuity, a majority are tempted by theft. However, everyone is susceptible to the sin of loshon harah. Generally, man is motivated by gratification, which explains the temptation for promiscuity and theft. Why is every man susceptible to the sin of loshon horah if there is no gratification in this transgression?

Every person has a deep yearning to sense self-worth. Secular society promotes competition as the forum in which to gauge our worth; we sense our self-worth vis-à-vis our contemporaries. Unfortunately this manner of gauging ourselves is fraught with great dangers. We are never truly encouraged to fully develop our own potential and individuality for success is achieved by besting others, not by challenging ourselves to be all that we can be. Furthermore, instead of applying ourselves and developing our talents we sometimes choose the path of least resistance. We elevate ourselves by stepping upon others. By putting others down we delude ourselves into believing that we are better than them. However, instead of feeling accomplished, we are left feeling empty and unproductive. The greater a person’s potential, the greater the void that is left when he is unfulfilled. For this reason the greatest cynics and ba’alei loshon horah who are capable of making the most insulting remarks are usually the most talented individuals who take the easy way out and attempt to feel accomplished by belittling others instead of making the effort to develop themselves in a positive manner.

It is this desire to feel self-worth that fuels a person to speak loshon harah. Every individual is affected because everyone has the need to feel fulfilled. The Kohein is the individual who embodies self-accomplishment. Having developed his potential, he stands out in society. The inaugural process that he undergoes highlights the fact that he is an outstanding individual. The message to the metzora is that he too can be an outstanding individual and it need not be for his negativity. Rather, he should emulate the Kohein and develop one’s potential so that he too will be elevated for his positive accomplishments

1.Arachin 16a
2.Shemos 29:20
3.Taanis 8a

Children

Parshas Tazria

Posted on April 28, 2017 (5778) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

The Torah is pro-family. It commands people to marry and have children. This week’s parsha deals with the ritual laws of cleanliness and impurity inherent in giving birth to a child. Though the laws of purity and impurity have little consequence in our lives today due to the absence of the Temple and its rituals, there are certain laws regarding childbirth that still retain actuality today. But, I wish to dwell on the broader aspect of having children in this article. One of the main problems facing Jewish society today is demographic. Bluntly put, Jews are not reproducing themselves. In the United States, the statistics regarding Jewish births show that the birth rate is down to 1.8 – minus population growth, not just zero population growth. This is attributable to many factors – a large number of permanent singles, the declining birthrate that seemingly always accompanies economic affluence, people marrying later, women choosing careers over family, etc. Whatever the reasons, the numbers spell disaster for the future of American Jewry. And here in Israel, the birth rate among secular Jews is also spectacularly low. Compounding the problem is the high number of abortions undertaken by Jewish women every year, the numbers of these abortions being measured reportedly in the tens of thousands. There are wonderful organizations here in Israel that are committed to helping women in desperate straits give birth to their children instead of resorting to abortion. But in the overall picture these efforts are usually too little and too late.

We may be heartened by the fact that in the religious Jewish community there is currently a high birthrate, 7.6 in the Charedi society and 4.2 in the Dati society. Eventually, this will cause a vast change in the life, politics and behavior of our country. But for now, because more than fifty percent of the Charedi population and a third of the Dati population is under the age of eight, this is not recognizable. It should be apparent that there could be no Jewish people if there are not enough Jews to populate the nation and the Land of Israel. The Jewish people, sixty years after the Holocaust ended still has not made up its losses. In fact, it has not even come close. There were nineteen million Jews in the world in 1939. There are barely fourteen million Jews today. The price of Auschwitz, assimilation and intermarriage is very high. A shrinking base of Jewish population will spell the loss of Jewish influence and ideas in the world. And that would truly be a tragedy for all concerned.

The Lord told us in advance that we would not be a people of great numbers – “for you are the smallest of all nations.” Nevertheless, we have an obligation to promote increased Jewish population and numbers. Family, children, generations, these are the values that Jews are judged by. It is our way of guaranteeing that the message of Sinai will continue to be heard in a world that so desperately needs to hear it.

Shabat shalom.
Rabbi Berel Wein Text Copyright © 2005 by Rabbi Berel Wein and Torah.org

 

Good News and Bad News

Parshas Tazria Metzorah

Posted on April 26, 2012 (5772) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

And the person with Tzaraas in whom there is the affliction – his garments shall be torn, the hair of his head shall be unshorn, and he shall cloak himself up to his lips; he is to call out, “Contaminated, contaminated!” All the days the affliction is upon him he shall remain contaminated. He shall dwell in isolation; his dwelling shall be outside the camp. (Vayikra 13:45-46)

Tzarass is woefully misunderstood. It is seen as an archaic matter, a form of leprosy that for some reason is no longer applicable or relevant. The truth is that Tzarass, according to the sainted Chofetz Chaim was a blessing in disguise. How so?

I went through half a dozen clunker cars until I learned two important words that have served me in good stead. Actually it was not until I bought a more expensive vehicle and realized that I was not comfortable making payments for a car that no longer functioned that I bothered to take the user’s manual out of the glove compartment of the car and discover this two word phrase that has granted longer and healthier life to every one of my automobiles ever since. By the way, those two words are, “Oil change!”

Now, though, the newer cars have something the older ones did not and that is the proverbial, “Amber light!” Once the amber light goes on, or the “check engine” sign on the dashboard it’s time to ask. Without that earlier warning system we are at a real disadvantage. Tzarass was a sort of earlier warning system, an amber-light to alert us that spiritual deficiencies were starting wreak havoc on our system. We operate now at a distinct disadvantage without Tzarass!

There’s an old country folksy phrase that goes like this, “You can hide the fire, but what are you gonna do with all the smoke?!” Tzarass is like smoke bellowing out form the engine of our being, a scent of danger to remind us repair our ways. Although, Tzarass, technically, is no longer active the concept of Tzarass is still very much alive!

Guilt also got a bad rap for similar reasons but it’s also good in a way that needs explanation. Guilt is to the soul what pain is to the body. Although nobody likes to experience pain it can be extremely beneficial. A person without the ability to feel pain would certainly be likely to be missing digits and whole limbs. While making a salad they might realize a little too late that the red in in the bowl is not from tomatoes, pardon me! Both guilt and pain if properly responded to, serve to guide us away from certain damage.

Another signal that helps us figure out what might be wrong is in the arena of raising children. In a class I have been giving for a while called, “The Ten Commandments of Parenting”. The first of the “big ten” is “I am HASHEM your G-d Who took you out from the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage!” The first commandment of parenting is that parents too stand before their children, whether aware or not, and say with their actions, “This is who we are and this is what we do!” It’s no wonder that in the first paragraph is written, “And these words that I command you today you shall place upon your heart and you should teach them to your children.” First they must be on your heart and then to be taught because children read the heart. They have a sincerity meter that’s extremely sensitive! In the second paragraph of “Shema” it says, “And you should teach your children to speak in them (Torah)” and then it continues to tell us how to teach this lesson, “with your sitting in your house, and your- going on your way and the way you go to bed and the way you rise up”. Children are following their primary role models, their parent!

A young lady was asked by a Rabbi at a general lecture, “What is your parents’ greatest source of pleasure?” A broad smile came across her face and she replied, Me!” The Rabbi continued his line of questioning, “What’s your parents’ greatest source of pain?” Now with in a more somber tone she responded, “My sister!” Why are kids both the greatest source of pleasure and the greatest source of pain? I believe we all realize intuitively that they are “us- (mother and father) playing out our real selves on the big screen of life.

Many things are a form of Tzarass, in that they can lead us to make critical adjustment before it’s too late. All of life is a self-portrait and the canvass on which we operate grabs our undivided attention, all too often only when we witness vivid pictures of good news and bad news.

DvarTorah, Copyright © 2007 by Rabbi Label Lam and Torah.org.

 

I Need To Be Heard

The Talmud teaches that each of the Kohain’s garments atoned for a particular transgression. Concerning the “me’il” – the robe with bells attached to its hem, the Torah states, “It must be on Aharon when he ministers so that its sound be heard when he enters the Sanctuary.” The Talmud records that the me’il atoned for “Lashon Harah” – evil speech; “Let the garment of sound atone for the sin of sound.”¹ In a similar vein, Rashi cites the Talmud which explains the use of birds in the Metzorah’s purification process in the following manner: “Let the one who violates the transgression of sound bring as an atonement the animal that makes sound i.e. the bird.”² Why is Lashon Harah being described as a sin of sound? Should the focus of the transgression be on its decibel level rather than on its contents?

The Rambam records that the person who listens to Lashon Harah is more accountable than the person who speaks it.³ Why?

In order to answer the aforementioned questions, we must gain some insight into the motivation of the Ba’al Lashon Harah. Every person has a deep need to validate his existence. The two ways in which people attempt to meet this need are either internally, by fulfilling their potential, or by putting down others, which gives them a false sense of superiority. The Ba’al Lashon Harah does not measure himself by his own potential, rather in relation to others. Therefore, in order to assert himself in the public eye, he needs to put others down. Lashon Harah is not as much a personal attack on an individual as it is the Ba’al Lashon Harah’s need to assert himself. He needs to be heard. Therefore, the Talmud describes Lashon Harah as a sin of sound. It is important for a victim of Lashon Harah to realize the driving force behind Lashon Harah; this allows for a greater chance of reconciliation. He needs to understand that he just happened to be the vehicle through which the Ba’al Lashon Harah was asserting himself.

When a person measures himself in relation to others, he needs a forum in which his words will be accepted, for if no one will listen to him, he cannot attain the feeling of superiority which he seeks. Therefore, the person who listens is violating an even greater transgression than the speaker, for he is providing the forum in which the Ba’al Lashon Harah can assert himself.

This disease of measuring ourselves vis-a-vis others has spread throughout contemporary society. Competition has become the only way by which we measure ourselves. This is an extremely destructive tool, for it suppresses the ability to measure ourselves by who we really are. There is no emphasis on fulfilling our potential, for reward is meted out based upon success measured by our victory over one another, rather than the extent to which we have fulfilled our potential.

1.Zevachim 88b, Arachin 16a 2.14:4 3.Yad Hil. Deios 7:3