Leap of Love • Torah.org
torah.org/torah-portion/drasha-5760-kedoshim/
Posted on April 22, 2021 (5781) By Rabbi Mordechai
Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner
Among the many commandments explicated in this week’s Torah portion we find the ubiquitous phrase of brotherly love. “Love
your neighbor as yourself”
(Leviticus 19:18) has found its way,
in varying forms, into the moral codes
of an array of cultures and civilizations.
What is interesting, however, are the phrases that precede this exhortation “You shall
not take revenge, and you shall not bear a grudge
against the members of your people; you shall love your
neighbor as yourself — I am Hashem.”
Rashi quotes the Talmud in Yoma on the varying forms of grudges: If Reuven says to Shimon, “Lend me your sickle,” and Shimon
replies, “No!” And the next day Shimon says to
Reuven, “Lend me your hatchet,” and Reuven retorts, “I am not going to
lend it to you, just as you refused
to lend me your sickle” – this is avenging. “Bearing a grudge,” however, is: If Reuven says to another, “Lend me your
hatchet”, and he replies “No!” And on the next day he says to him, “Lend me your sickle,” and Reuvain replies “Here
it is; I am not like you, because you
would not lend me” – this is bearing a grudge because he retains enmity in his
heart although he does not actually
avenge himself.
The strange juxtaposition seems a bit difficult to
comprehend. Why would the Torah warn us against
revenge, an act that is surely filled will malice and ill-will, and then
command us to instead love our
brother as our self? Surely one who wants revenge is not ready to take that great leap, from anger-filled rage to the
highest level of brotherly love?
Shouldn’t the Torah rather end the exhortations with the plea
of brotherly reconciliation? Isn’t asking
the potential avenger
to love the object of his anger
like himself asking
too much?
Rabbi Elchonon Wasserman, the Rosh Yeshiva of the Baranovitch
Yeshiva, visited the United States
in the latter part of the 1930s to raise funds for his yeshiva. Unfortunately,
he made a greater impact on the
America than America made on his yeshiva, and the funds raised did not help much. Reb Elchonon returned to a
Poland clouded by the darkness of war to be with his students for the ensuing nightmare. The Nazis later
murdered him together with his students
in Kovno (Kaunus) Ghetto.
While he was in the United States, he was accompanied by
young, enthusiastic students, my father
amongst them, who felt privileged to help the great sage in his efforts.
Once, a student brought him to visit a wealthy man who had a
philanthropic reputation. The bachur
was confident that the meeting would prove successful. Unfortunately, the expectations proved fruitless, and Reb
Elchonon and the student were shown to the door, empty-handed.
The young man left the house and sat down on the steps of the
mansion utterly dejected. Reb Elchonon,
who was quite tall, bent down to him, “Why are you so upset?” he asked softly.
“Upset? Why shouldn’t I be upset? This man has the ability to
support your whole yeshiva for a
year, and he sent us away as if he does not have the ability to give even a
dime!”
Reb Elchonon smiled. “The Torah tells us that Moshe was
told to choose Betzalel to build the Mishkan.
Let us assume that Moshe went in the street and asked where he could find Betzalel. Moshe was told that Betzalel
could be found in the Bais Medrash. He went into the Bais Medrash and asked someone, ‘Are you Betzalel?’ The man said
no. Should Moshe have been upset? Of
course not! It’s not the man’s fault that he was not Betzalel! He was not born Betzalel and his job was obviously not to
be Betzalel! Moshe went to another man. Are You Betzalel? Again the man said no! Should Moshe have been angry
with him? Again, of course not!
“Well, my son,” continued Reb Elchonon, “You can’t be
upset with him! He is just not the man
that was chosen to help!”
Perhaps one can explain the verse by saying that one cannot
be upset when the hammer is not
offered. If your friend did not give you want you wanted, then this particular
neighbor is obviously not the
vehicle, messenger, or shliach to give it to you! You can’t avenge that fact!
Perhaps that is why the phrase to love your neighbor as
yourself follows the Torah’s exhortations
against revenge. At a time that you are disappointed, even angry, at a friend
or relative for not lending or
giving you an item, take a step back and think. “Are you angry at yourself for not having a hammer?” Of
course not! Why should you be? You don’t own a
hammer! You can’t be angry at yourself if you don’t have the hammer! If
you don’t have a hammer you can’t
give yourself the hammer!
The posuk is telling us. “You shall not bear a grudge; you
shall love your neighbor as yourself! Just
as you do not bear a grudge at yourself for not having a hammer, don’t be angry
at anyone else. After all, they
obviously weren’t the ones chosen to give it to you! So next time you are upset at someone for not aiding
you in what you yourself could not achieve, think. Do not take revenge or harbor ill-will. Treat your neighbor as
you would have treated the original culprit
of incapability and love him as yourself!
Dedicated
in memory of Tillie Beer by Ira and Gisele Beer — 30 Nisan