Rabbi Breit's Blog

This high holiday season we have been learning the ways that Judaism is about Love, guided by Rabbi Shai Held’s book of that name. One of the hardest passages to implement, perhaps especially at this challenging time in our people’s history, has been about loving one’s enemy. We could quickly get stuck in a thicket of difficult questions on how to do that without causing more harm to oneself. And yet, even without addressing the thorny issue of how to love an ‘enemy’, most of us will already recoil from behaving lovingly towards someone we seriously do not like. What can we do about that?

There’s a beautiful midrash included in Rabbi Held's book on an act of love given to an enemy. It teaches, “two donkey drivers who detest one another are traveling along the same road, and one of the donkeys falls down. The driver whose donkey is still standing sees what has happened but does not stop to help. Yet he soon pauses to reflect: ‘It is written in the Torah that ‘When you see the donkey of your enemy … you must nevertheless raise it with him.’ He immediately goes back to help the other man with the load, whereupon the latter beings to ruminate: ‘This man is apparently my friend, but I didn’t know it!’ The two of them go to an inn where they eat and drink together and become genuine friends.” (As quoted from Midrash Tanhuma in Judaism is About Love, p.199)

A man hates another man, but he does as he read once in the Torah he is supposed to do. Following the rule, which seems just to pop into his mind, and not thinking about whether the other person deserves it or not, repairs the relationship and earns him a true friend.

This week’s parsha, Ki Teitzei, is brimming with rules-- rules on returning neighbor’s donkeys, rules on shooing away mamma birds, and rules on leaving gleanings for the poor. It can seem like a lot.

I made up a rule as a teenager that I’ve brought into many divrei torah. Growing up in New York City I took the subway to school every morning and usually passed one or two buskers playing music on the platform. I was especially shy and felt excrutiatingly uncomfortable about walking up to a grown-up everyone was watching and giving them money. But at some point my mom said to me, “But that’s what they need you to do.” And so I made a rule. Any time I wanted to do something kind or generous for someone, I absolutely was not allowed to back out because I was embarrassed. That rule has driven me to perform many kindnesses I otherwise would have backed out of immediately. 

A rule can help us through a difficult or uncomfortable emotional situation. It can help you look past the immediate challenge and see a bigger picture.

I’m not saying the next rule you read in the Torah will necessarily be the one you need. And you’re not going to have a rule for every situation. But this is where the last line of the midrash, that I didn’t yet quote, comes in handy. It concludes, “What led them to make up? The fact that one of them looked into the Torah.” The midrash is inviting us to a life of study, of building and learning and accepting rules; we are asked to study these challenging rules sections of the Torah with devotion and curiosity. This Shabbat I invite you to read through and find the one you need to hear. Maybe there’s a rule in this week’s parsha you'll need to remember when you’re feeling low on love. Shabbat shalom.