In the wonderful
world of average people a.k.a. our world, we the people, the Beinonim who
occupy the great center that fills in the divide between the Tzaddikim from the
Reshoim all tend to stumble in very similar ways.
Whatever you see
your neighbor do you also did once upon a time or may well do tomorrow with but
a slight variation on the theme, not enough to take it out of whatever aveira
was the touchstone between your two neshamos at different points in time.
So why is it that
there is a Grand Canyon disconnect between the understanding with which you
view your actions and the jaundiced eye that you cast upon the missteps of
your friend, sufficient to ignite within you a desire to talk about it?
When assessing
the doings of our friend we have nothing in front of us but the bare bones of
undefined actions which by themselves are meaningless without the benefit of
the what, why and who of the matter.
Where’s that
back story that would flesh out the possible motivation for whatever it was
that ran afoul your perception of right and wrong?
Better yet, what
happened to the mitzvah aseh of one must love his fellow Jew as he loves
himself?
The Chofetz
Chaim tells us that someone who speaks loshon hora or gossips about a fellow
Jew, or someone who listens to these remarks and accepts them as the truth, even
if the remarks are truthful, clearly demonstrates that he has no love at all
for his fellow Jew and most certainly not fulfilling his obligation from the
Torah “to love your fellow Jew as you love yourself.”
But by us, by
our faults, foibles, speed bumps, and sometimes blatant aveiros, it’s a
different story because when we shine the light on our less than gallant doings
we dust off a different pair of eyes of a somewhat softer variety.
The irony of
course is that while we are only privy to a mere smattering of our friend’s
left turns, the complete and very detailed accounting of our own rebelliousness
against what the Torah demands of us is constantly in our face. Given the enormity of our debit balance in
contradistinction to the little we know of our friend’s red ink, how is it
possible for our eye (and then tongue) to be drawn in the direction of our
friend’s weaknesses?
The Chofetz
Chaim lets us know that even though we are aware of our many sins, far more
than have been disclosed about our friend, we push them all aside because we
love ourselves.
We are more
accepting of ourselves because we possess the clarity that comes from being
cognizant of the context from which all of our mistakes flow, which in turn
enhances our understanding of all of our shortcomings.
In keeping with
the mitzvah of “love your fellow Jew as yourself, the Torah demands that we
deal with our fellow Jew in exactly the same manner, to zealously guard and
protect his honor and interests to the best of our abilities.
And this can
only happen if his comings and goings are assessed within their natural
context. Then and only then can we obtain
the clarity necessary to see ourselves in him.
