Te’ina & Perika II — Spiritual Burdens
Bein Adam Le-chavero: Ethics of Interpersonal Conduct
By Rav Binyamin Zimmerman
Shiur #24: Teina & Perika II
Spiritual Burdens
In last week's lesson, we
dealt with the biblical obligation of helping others in need, as seen through
the prisms of the mitzvot of teina and perika, loading and
unloading animals, found in Shemot (23:5) and Devarim (22:4)
respectively. As we saw, the Arukh Ha-shulchan extends these obligations beyond
the responsibility to merely help another load or unload; to the best of ones
ability, one must assist others in any case where they require physical
assistance.
However, the obligation may be expanded even
further. It is rather interesting that the Torah chooses to teach the laws of
perika specifically regarding a foe literally, one who is hated. In last
week's lesson, we dealt with the Talmud's exposition that such an individual is
given precedence over one's friend. Fascinatingly, the Talmud teaches that the
basis for disliking this individual is not caprice or some minor offense, but
rather because he or she has committed an act which demands hatred.
The Talmud (Pesachim 113b) discusses
the law applying to an individual whose unseemly behavior has been witnessed by
only one person, noting the contradiction between the two verses, that of the
prohibition of hating another Jew and that of the positive mitzva of perika:
Said Rabbi Shmuel bar Rav
Yitzchak: It is permissible to hate him, as it is said. If you see your foes
donkey lying under its load.' Now which foe is meant? Shall we say a non-Jewish
foe? It was taught: The foe of whom they spoke is a Jewish foe, not a
non-Jewish foe. Hence, it obviously means a Jewish foe. But is it permitted to
hate him? Surely it is written, Do not hate your brother in your heart (Vayikra
19:17)! Again, if there are witnesses that any Jew transgressed, all agree that
he should be hated! Why is this particular person singled out? Hence it must
surely apply to such a case where he has seen something indecent in him. Rabbi
Nachman bar Yitzchak said: It is a duty to hate him, as it is written (Mishlei
8:13), God's commandment is to hate wickedness.
The Talmud here determines that when the Torah
speaks of helping one's "foe" to unload an animal, it refers specifically to a
case wherein one has, on some earlier occasion, seen the animal's owner
willfully commit a Torah violation. The Torah forbids hating one's fellow Jew;
undoubtedly, then, the Torah speaks here of somebody who has knowingly betrayed
the Torah and thus rightfully earned the dislike of devout mitzva-observers. It
is specifically such a case, the Talmud concludes, to which the Torah refers in
presenting this obligation to assist one's foe in unloading his or her animal.
Tosafot (ad
loc. s.v. She-raa) are bothered by the seeming inconsistency between
two laws. As we saw in our previous lesson, helping ones foe load is given
precedence over helping ones friend unload
"in order to subdue the evil inclination," even though the
latters animal may suffer in the meantime. Why must one be helpful to him, even at the expense
of tzaar baalei chayim, if the desire to hate is positive? In Lesson 15,
we dealt with Tosafot's answer to this question and its implications for
understanding the nature of the prohibition of hating another Jew.
What concerns us now is
the following question: why does the Torah formulate the obligation of
assistance to another Jew specifically in the context of an individual who is
hated for his or her transgressions and non-observance?
The Rambam cites this
law, exploring the ambivalent relationship towards the hated (Hilkhot
Rotzeiach 13:14):
The "foe" mentioned in
the Torah is not a member of the gentile nations, but rather a Jew. How can a
Jew be hated by a Jew? Surely, it is written: "Do not hate your brother in your
heart"! The Sages explain that an example is one wherein he alone saw him
committing a transgression, and he admonished him, but he did not turn away from
sinning. Thus, there is a mitzva to hate him until he repents and turns
away from his wickedness. But even if he has not repented yet, if one sees him
in panic because of his cargo, it is a mitzva to unload and reload with him,
instead of leaving him inclined toward death, lest he tarry because of his money
and be brought to danger. For the Torah shows concern for the souls of the
Jewish people, both the wicked and the righteous, for they are attached to God
and believe in the fundamentals of our faith.
Though the Torah may permit hating the
estranged Jew in order to maintain a proper spiritual distance, it expresses
care and concern for all Jews, so much so that the sinner receives precedence.
Missing the Point of the Halakha
At some points, it may
prove difficult to maintain the balance between distancing sinners and helping
them when they are in need. Rav Aharon Lichtenstein in Communal Directives for
Centrist Orthodoxy (available at:
http://vbm-torah.org/archive/develop/12develop.htm) tells the story of his encounter young boys who
were only familiar with part of these laws.
A couple of
years after we moved to Yerushalayim, I was once walking with my family in the
Beit Yisrael neighborhood, where R. Isser Zalman Meltzer used to live. For the
most part, it consists of narrow alleys. We came to a corner, and found a
merchant stuck there with his car. The question came up as to how to help him;
it was a clear case of perika u-teina (helping one load or unload his
burden). There were some youngsters there from the neighborhood, who judging by
their looks were probably ten or eleven years old. They saw that this merchant
was not wearing a kippa. So they began a whole pilpul, based on
the gemara in Pesachim (113b), about whether they should help him
or not. They said, If he walks around bareheaded, presumably he doesnt
separate terumot u-maasrot, so he is suspect of eating and selling
untithed produce. . .
I wrote R.
Soloveitchik a letter at that time, and told him of the incident. I ended with
the comment, Children of that age from our camp would not have known the
gemara, but they would have helped him. My feeling then was: Why,
Ribbono shel Olam, must this be our choice? Cant we find children who would
have helped him and still know the gemara? Do we have to choose? I hope
not; I believe not. If forced to choose, however, I would have no doubts where
my loyalties lie: I prefer that they know less gemara, but help him.
Rav Lichtenstein's words stress the important
of not losing sight of the point of each mitzva. Though the depiction of a foe
requires maintaining distance as if one hates him, the need to help him is
stressed in these mitzvot, as expressed powerfully by the Rambam: "For
the Torah shows concern for the souls of the Jewish people. This requires
assisting hated individuals despite their distance. In the process, one will
hopefully show them this love and concern.
Spiritual Perika
With this in mind, we may
now turn to a second question: why does the Rambam use such descriptive language
about the love we are to have for the foe when we help him with his load? After
all, we are bidden to assist him physically, but the Rambam states that the
Torah shows concern for the souls of the Jewish people. As one helps another
with cargo, where is the Jewish soul in need?
The answer may be found
in of the teachings of Rabbi Nachman of Breslov and his student, Rabbi Natan.
Rabbi Nachman explores not only rachamim, compassion, but rachmanut,
kindheartedness, a trait of sensitivity to pain and compulsive kindness. He
begins by pointing to a verse (Yeshayahu 49:10) which connects the trait
to leadership: "For with compassion for them he will lead them." Rabbi Nachman
explains that rachmanut must be used properly, as its misuse can have
serious repercussions. From showing clemency to the wicked to giving a crying
baby a chocolate milkshake, softheartedness can lead to disastrous results. One
must properly calibrate his or her sympathy in order to determine the
appropriate level and form of rachamim for every individual.
He continues that Moshe
Rabbeinu was the one who shepherded his people with the proper balance of
compassion, putting aside his own personal glory and focusing on the needs of
his flock. This is how one must define true compassion. Rabbi Nachman writes:
The essence of compassion
is employed when the Jews, the holy people, succumb to sin, God forbid. There is
no greater display of compassion than this, for all the terrible suffering in
the world is considered nothing in comparison to the heavy burden of sin, God
forbid. For when Israel succumbs to sin, God forbid, it is a very heavy burden,
one that is impossible to bear. "[For my sins have risen above my head] and like
heavy cargo, they weigh me down." (Tehillim 38:5).
All who understand
Israel's holiness and origin, discerning their spirituality and refinement, know
that sin is utterly foreign to Israel
Therefore, all suffering in the world is
considered no burden in comparison to the heavy burden of sin
Thus, the essence
of compassion is to help release the Jewish people from sin.
This is why whenever Jews
succumbed to sins, Moshe Rabbeinu, may he rest in peace, would sacrifice himself
for them and pray for them
as they are incapable of bearing sin's heavy burden.
Rabbi Nachman then continues on a rather
lengthy description of the fundamental importance of daat (knowledge),
which serves two purposes: freeing one from sin and allowing one to discern the
exalted level of the Jewish people and the extreme pain sin causes to their
soul. By its very nature, true rachmanut requires daat, the
understanding of how to be properly compassionate.
Rabbi Natan refers to
these teachings of his rebbe in his description of the mitzva of perika.
He explains that what causes this individual to be hated is reason for his or
her load being too heavy to bear. The chamor (donkey) mentioned in the
verse refers to the chomer, the earthly physicality, which clouds a
person's judgment and weighs one down. This individual carries a big load of
transgressions, which as Rabbi Nachman teaches, weighs one down more than
anything else, for a Jew does not have the strength to carry his or her sins
alone. Rabbi Natan (Likkutei Halakhot, CM, Perika U-te'ina 4) writes:
This mitzva alludes to
one
who sees his foes chamor
the chomer, physicality, of one
who is becoming hated through the commission of sin, who is unable to carry the
burden
The Torah commands in this situation not to bypass this individual;
rather, one must try to help and bring this individual closer, to raise up he
whose burden is weighing him down, to love him (not hate him)
to judge him
favorably
and raise him up from his iniquity
The essence of this mitzva of
helping him with his burden is love.
Essentially, Rabbi Nachman and Rabbi Natan
teach that true compassion requires understanding what an individual truly needs
and the proper way in which to give it to him. When one sees another engrossed
in sin, one must realize that the individual is carrying a burden that is too
heavy, and one's responsibility is to help alleviate the pain. For this,
rachmanut is necessary. While this is an essential character trait for
leaders, each Jew who wants to help fellow Jews must inculcate it as well. It
starts with the realization of the burden of sin being the greatest weight one
can bear, and it continues with recognizing the root of the problem and how to
solve it. The same way that one's chamor can be burdened, ones soul may
be weighed down. A Jew can be adversely affected by the load of chomer,
physicality.
Sometimes it is hedonism
and consumption which burdens a soul, leaving an individual incapable of dealing
with what is bothering him inside. A person like this needs te'ina, to be
loaded with wisdom and insight. The Jew may be assisted by learning about the
importance of Torah and helping out others, as well as by becoming aware of the
painful effects of a self-engrossed life. Such an existence is not only devoid
of time and care for others; it is essentially empty of all that defines one's
true self. Rachmanut dictates that this individual needs spiritual
te'ina.
On the other hand, there
are people who are well-aware of the pain they are caused by their sins, who
live a very guilt-ridden existence because of them. Their burden of sin so
greatly weighs down upon them that they are unable to see the good in anything,
especially themselves. These people need perika to put things in
perspective, understanding the power of repentance. Secondly, they are in
desperate need of an alternate form of teina, being loaded with love
from their fellow Jews.
Only who is truly
compassionate knows how to strike the proper balance between magnanimity and
might, when to lighten the load and when to increase it. Moshe Rabbeinu, as
Rabbi Nachman points out, had these exceptional characteristics, and while it is
tremendously difficult to live up to his example, all Jews share the
responsibility toward their fellows.
Sometimes, one may notice
another who feels dissatisfied but is entangled in the trapping of his or her
environment. An individual such as this needs simultaneous perika and
te'ina, first shrugging off the pained outlook and then embracing a healthy
understanding of Jewish tradition. One thing is clear: the Jewish soul doesnt
like the burden of being hated, of committing acts which belie its inner
calling.
Indeed, this may provide
an answer for Tosafot's question. When one sees an individual who has earned
enmity by sin standing by his or her overburdened donkey, one must be cognizant
of what is really going on. It is not the donkey that is in trouble, but the
person. Though the owner notices the animals distress, his or her own escapes
notice, so that the misguided behavior continues. Though the Torah requires that
the passerby help the donkey, its primary focus is not the pain of the animal as
much as the pain of the owner; therefore, the Torah demands that one must help
the owner as well. When the committed Jew assists with the load, this
demonstrates care and concern for the wayward owner, despite their religious
differences. The pious passerby cares for the owner and the owners needs and
lovingly wants to help. This is the Torah's lesson: as the Rambam says, "the
Torah shows concern for the souls of the Jewish people."
For this reason, the
Torah requires that one help the hated individual first, in order to subdue this
individuals heart, for though the animal of the beloved is in pain, the foe is
personally in pain. Worst of all, this individual doesn't realize the
predicament. By helping the foe first, one may subdue the heart of this
individual, demonstrating that the words of the Torah are righteous, and God
cares about even those who do not think of Him.
The Essential Mitzva of Kiruv
In
Lesson 15 we saw that despite the fact that the Torah allows one to hate
evildoers in order to maintain a healthy distance, the Torah's message in this
verse is, as Tosafot say, to prevent this from becoming personal; instead, one
must strive to bring those in error closer, a process called kiruv. We
also noted that a number of authorities believe that even the basics of the
once-permitted hatred are inapplicable in our modern milieu. Indeed, the context
of the verse here teaches that despite our need to distance ourselves from
sinners, we must come to their assistance, aiding them physically and
spiritually.
Furthermore, the common
method of dealing with evildoers in the times of the Mishna and Talmud is not
applied in our day. This obligation expresses itself in a completely different
manner.
In the third chapter of
Hilkhot Mamrim, the Rambam distinguishes between different types of
non-observant Jews: those who were born into a righteous tradition and later
rebelled and those who were born uncommitted and were never taught in the proper
manner. He reserves the harsh methods of dealing with evildoers to those who
have openly rebelled. In the second paragraph, he describes those who are called
deniers of Torah, who are treated harshly, while in the third paragraph, he
explains that their children are to be treated differently.
The children of these
errant people and their grandchildren, whose forebears led them away and who
were born among these Karaites and raised according to their conception, are
considered to be children who have been captured and raised by them. Such a
child may not be eager to follow the path of mitzvot, for it is as if he
is compelled not to. Even if later he hears that he is Jewish and sees Jews and
their faith, he is still considered as one who was compelled to shun observance,
for he has been raised according to the mistaken path. This applies to those who
we mentioned, who follow the erroneous Karaite path of their ancestors.
Therefore it is appropriate to motivate them to repent and draw them to the
power of the Torah with words of peace.
The Rambam's conclusion is to focus one's
efforts on bringing the captured child, i.e. one has been brought up without
any Jewish education, back to Judaism, drawing them closer to the power of
Torah.
While the Rambam's
teaching would seem to indicate that only Jews born unaffiliated should
candidates for kiruv, while those who have opted out of a committed
lifestyle should be treated harshly, others have pointed out that this is no
longer the case in our day.
The Chazon Ish, known for
his staunch opposition to secularism, nevertheless embraces all Jews in his
writing. He does not classify the non-observant as apostates and explains why
they are not to be treated harshly in our day, but rather to be brought closer.
He writes (YD 2:16) that the harsh treatment of apostates dictated in the
Talmud:
applies only at a time
that the providence of God is revealed to all, when miracles are apparent and
abound and there are heavenly voices heard; when the righteous of the generation
live an openly providential life and the deniers of God are particularly driven
by tremendous desire for sin. Then, obliterating the wicked was essential
but
in our days of hidden providence, when numerous Jews are unconnected to
tradition, attempting to obliterate the wicked would not be a means of fixing
Jewish society but rather further destroying it, because it will be viewed as
destructive and hateful. Our whole goal in dealing with sinners is to repair the
world and improve it, so the former mode of practice is no longer applicable.
Instead, we must return them to God with tremendous love and uphold them with
the rays of the Torah's beauty as much as we possibly can.
In our day particularly, with an understanding
of the dire straits of many Jewish communities and the alarming statistics of
assimilation and intermarriage, there is a new call for kiruv.
In next week's lesson, we
will trace the interpersonal obligation to inspire Jews towards a newfound
closeness with God.
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