In this week’s Parsha, after the awesome moment in history when God reveals Himself through the giving of the Torah, the laws of the Torah are delineated, to be the cornerstone of a just society. These laws would not only guide the Jewish nation but also be a beacon of morality to the rest of the world.
Among the societal laws such as open pits in the public thoroughfare, bodily damages, and bearing false witness, we are told of another: “If you see the donkey of someone you hate crouching under its burden, would you refrain from helping him? You shall help repeatedly with him” (Shemot 23:5).
Who is this “someone you hate”? Surely it is forbidden to hate a fellow Jew! Rather, Chazal in Pesachim (113b) explain that this refers to someone who it is in fact permitted (even obligated) to hate, meaning someone who sins consistently, despite protestations and warnings, and is no longer considered part of the Jewish people. Yet even so, the Torah demands that we help him with his animal’s burden. Why? Is this not still considered showing love for a wicked person, by lending a helping hand?
I would like to suggest a reason for why this is so.
The Gemara in Bava Metzia (32b), in discussing whether the prohibition of צער בעלי חיים (causing pain to animals) is Biblical or Rabbinic in origin, cites our verse as the source that it is from the Torah (and so rules the majority of the Rishonim). From here we see that despite the fact that the owner is wicked and is not considered part of the nation, nonetheless we still help with the burden. For although it may be a mitzvah to hate this wilful sinner, it is not a mitzvah to cause pain to the animal – it is prohibited.
We can learn a tremendous lesson from this: the importance of compartmentalization, and understanding where and when to apply our principles. Though it is a mitzvah to despise this particular person, that mitzvah is not a carte blanche allowance to ignore the pain of the animal. Principles should not lead to “tunnel vision” whereby one does not take heed of other issues as well. If certain principles override other aspects of civility, it is a reflection of the quality (or lack-thereof) of that principle within us. I recall hearing from the Rosh Yeshiva Rav Yechiel Perr Shlit”a in the name of the Vilna Gaon, that in order to determine if one's actions are in fact good, he must examine the after-effects. This, explains the Gaon, is the meaning of the Mishna in Avot (4:2): מצוה גוררת מצוה – one mitzvah leads to another mitzvah. If the consequence of one’s “mitzvah” is negative, it is usually a sign it is not the right path. And if the fruits of one’s actions are clearly positive, one may rest assured knowing it was indeed a mitzvah. So too here, when the person is applying the principle of hating this wicked man, he must apply it with a wide scope, utilizing heavy doses of שיקול הדעת and a keen eye for the possible repercussions. With that eye he can determine if it is in fact a mitzvah to demonstrate hate at that time, or not.
The ability to apply a principle appropriately can only come when one has clarity of perspective, takes in the whole of the scenario and is able to correctly prioritize competing values. He must be able to approach each case in a nuanced way. Thus, when one is faced with “someone you hate,” rather than be a proverbial bull in a china shop and rigidly push away any thought of helping, or not even stop to notice the animal’s pain, one must leave open a space in his mind and heart to notice the suffering of the animal as well. For he should know intuitively that his “mitzvah” cannot come at the expense of the animal.
This explanation could perhaps illuminate another part of the Parsha. After the law of relieving the burden of your enemy’s animal, the very next verse is a call to Judges: “You shall not pervert the judgement of your destitute person in his dispute” (ibid. 6). The Sforno explains: “You [the Judge] shall not be soft with this one, and difficult with this one during the court proceedings when each side presents their cases.” Why not? Is this person not destitute? Perhaps ruling against the poor man may be devastating for him financially! Furthermore, perhaps the other side is rich! Can he not spare a few dollars to help this poor man? The Mechilta (ibid.) even says that this verse refers a situation to where one litigant is wicked and the other is righteous. Would it not be appropriate to rule in favor of the righteous individual? Renowned economist Thomas Sowell calls this attitude of intervention and consideration of these elements “The Quest for Cosmic Justice.” Is this not justice? Isn’t this what G-d would want? No! The Torah calls this way of thinking a perversion of justice. By taking these foreign factors into account when rendering the Halacha, the Judge is perverting the system of law. Nothing other than the facts of the case, regardless of the economic or social status of the baalei dinim, may be taken into account.
The ability to judge each person equally can only come when the judge has fashioned his mind and שכל to not allow outside factors to cloud his judgment, and instead is able to ignore and compartmentalize the “other” factors. Whether one side is destitute, a widower, or an orphan, this skill will allow him to filter out or properly weigh the factors that are needed to render a דין אמת.
Both of these instances – one who helps the burden of an animal, by ignoring his hate for the owner, and a judge who rules against the poor man, by ignoring his social status – result in a fair, just and kind society that is in tune with the needs of the people, yet at the same time creates the environment and enforcement of an equal system for justice.
This is the result of God-centered society: fairness, sensitivity for all of G-d’s creatures, and a proper application of morals and values. May we merit to implement these ideas and see this in our own society.
Shabbat Shalom
