Acharei Mot-Kedoshim
Leviticus 16:1-20:27
Amos 9:7-15
Looking for a challenge? Have I got one for you. Buried in the midst of a diverse double portion that possesses one of the highest per-portion counts of commandments, the Torah throws us a “zinger” in one little sentence. If I put this one verse on my “mitzvah difficulty-o-meter,” it would easily outweigh fasting on Yom Kippur, reciting the Sh’ma daily and Passover all put together.
What is this innocuous, yet powerful little line? The Torah states (19:17) simply that “You shall not hate your brother in your heart; you shall rebuke your neighbor and do not bear a sin as a result.” Let’s break this down into its component parts: 1) don’t hate others, 2) rebuke others, and 3) don’t bear sin.
How exactly do these parts go together? Why does HaShem command us to rebuke each other? Isn’t that likely to spark a fight? Won’t the rebuke lead the listener to “hate his brother in his heart” even more? And what does it mean to “bear sin” in this context?
In his commentary on the Torah, Rashi offers two insights that help to shed a bit of light on the dynamics of this verse. Regarding Bereshit 20:16, he explains that the word often translated as “rebuke” (hocheiach) is more precisely rendered as “to clarify a matter.” This makes a world of difference, as we are not being instructed to be sharp and offer put-downs or rude criticisms. Rather, we are being asked to openly discuss a disturbing incident.
In the course of dialogue, the reasoning and motivation of the other party becomes clear. Of course, we may deeply disagree with that reasoning. Yet even if that reasoning is unsatisfying, it generally removes the sense of malicious intent from the event. Were they “out to get” us? Most often not — more likely foolish or selfish than malevolent.
In these few words, the Torah pushes us to clarify what exactly happened and what was meant by it. From this emerges an extraordinary insight into the nature of human interaction. When we are wronged by another person, we often think that simply “brushing it off” is the proper course of action. Ignore it and move on. This would be true if our ultimate goal was to avoid disagreement. Why take the fight any deeper?
However, our actual objective is to foster a true spirit of brotherhood among people. We are family, and have to engage our interpersonal issues if we want to mend, heal and grow more tightly bound together. To that end, the Torah commands us to deal openly with our disagreements. We are expected to discuss our relationships and clarify our interactions, rather than politely allow them to decay in silence. Otherwise, we will indeed end up hating our brothers in our hearts, while feigning love with our faces and words.
This is more easily said than done, as the end of the verse suggests. Rashi explains that the final phrase, the one about not bearing sin, refers to the manner in which this clarifying discussion is to be conducted. It is to be done privately, respectfully, and with care not to embarrass or attack the other person. This is where things get even more difficult — why should I care how this person who hurt me feels when I confront them with their own doings?
It is at this point that we cross the Yom Kippur/Sh’ma/Passover line. At the moment of anger, of despair that this relationship has nowhere to go but downhill, the Torah pushes us to allow inside a spirit of true wishing to understand and reconnect. From that headspace, muttering reminders to ourselves to “be constructive and hear them out,” we launch into a clarifying dialogue that can reconnect those occupying distant personal worlds.
Yes, the other person is wrong, as we know it. It is quite clear. Parashat Kedoshim then makes us ask: What is next for our bond? A slow death of silence, or a delicate constructive engagement that shows that there is something of value to be had here?
Rabbi Judah Dardik is the spiritual leader at Oakland’s Beth Jacob. He can be reached at [email protected] .