Dvar Torah: Kedoshim — From Justified Hatred to Unjustified Rage

Kedoshim 1 — From Justified Hatred to Unjustified Rage
לא תשנא את אחיך בלבבך הוכח תוכיח את עמיתך ולא תשא עליו חטא
You shall not hate your brother in your heart; you shall reprove your fellow and you shall not bear a sin because of him (Vayikra 19:17).
The Gemara (Pesachim 113b) asks a question on the verse in Parashas Mishpatim (Shemos 23:5), “Ki sireh chamor sona’acha roveitz tachas masa’o ve’chadalta mei’azov lo azov taazov imo — Perhaps you will see the donkey of someone you hate lying under its burden, will you refrain from helping him? You shall surely help along with him.” If, as we know from the verse from Parashas Kedoshim cited above, we are not allowed to hate a fellow Jew, how can the Torah describe the donkey as belonging to someone we hate? The Gemara answers its question by explaining that if we witness a fellow Jew performing a dvar ervah, it is a mitzvah to hate him for his evil behavior.
Tosafos (ad loc.) points out that this explanation does not seem to fit with another Gemara. In Bava Metzia (32b), we are taught that if one encounters a friend who needs help unloading his animal’s burden at the same time as one sees that his enemy needs assistance loading a burden onto his animal, then the enemy’s animal — which just needs help with loading — takes precedence. This, despite the fact that an overburdened animal, which needs unloading, is really in greater need than the donkey that is just waiting to be loaded. Why is this? Because the Torah wants us to overcome our evil inclination and help our enemy, to quash our feelings of antipathy toward him. Ethical improvement takes precedence over helping the overburdened animal of a friend. Yet, asks Tosafos, why must we overcome our inclination to hate this enemy when that hatred is an obligation?

Tosafos provides an answer that gifts us with a valuable lesson. Since the man hates the sinner, the sinner hates him, as it says in Mishlei (27: 19), “Ka’mayim hapanim la’panim kein leiv ha’adam la’adam — As water reflects a face back to a face, so one’s heart is reflected back to him by another.” As Rashi elucidates, just as one sees his reflection in the water, and the face he shows the water is the face the water shows him, to the extent that a man knows that his friend loves him, so will he show him his face — and his love. How others feel about me will reflect in how I feel about them. If I show my friend hatred, even if justified, it will cause him to hate me. This can go back and forth, until we are left with a critical mass of full-blown anger and hatred. While we are told to harbor feelings of hatred toward one who performs a dvar ervah, we must be careful not to allow that righteous hatred to bleed into non-righteous and full-blown hatred. One must overcome his evil inclination to combat this second type of sinah, and that is why we must help his donkey with its burden before we help our friend’s donkey.
With this in mind, Rav Meshulam Roth (Kol Mevaser 7) explains several pesukim from Tehillim. At the end of Perek 139, David first says (verse 21), “Ha’lo mesanecha Hashem esna u’viskomemecha eskotat — For indeed those who hate You, Hashem, I hate them; and I quarrel with those who rise up against You.” David hates only Hashem’s enemies, the sinners, those he is supposed to hate.
In the next pasuk, however, he concedes that this hatred may have grown: “Tachlis sinah seneisim le’oyvim hayu li — With the utmost hatred I hate them; they have become enemies to me.” Since David legitimately hated them, they now hated him, which caused him to despise them even more. As Rav Roth writes, David is acknowledging that as a result, it is possible that he is no longer acting for the sake of Heaven, and perhaps he is being motivated by his yetzer hara.
David therefore adds a prayer in the two final pesukim of the perek: “Chakreini Keil ve’da levavi bechaneini ve’da sarapai. U’re’eh im derech otzev bi u’necheini be’derech olam — Examine me, G-d, and know my heart; test me and know my thoughts. And see if I have a vexing way; and lead me in the way of eternity.” According to our explanation, David is asking of Hashem, “You, Hashem, Who know the thoughts of man, see if I have been blinded by the yetzer hara and am now heading down the wrong path. And if that is the case, then please lead me in the right direction, in the way of eternity and truth.”
Rav Roth adds that we can also use the lesson of Tosafos to understand the Gemara in Berachos (28b). The Gemara discusses how Shimon HaPakuli established the 18 blessings of the Shemoneh Esrei prayer, when the Sages were in Yavneh, under the supervision of Rabban Gamliel HaNassi. In time, it became obvious that to counteract the power of the Tzedukim (the Sadducees), an additional blessing was needed. Rabban Gamliel wondered who would be able to formulate this blessing, and Shmuel HaKattan volunteered and put it into words.
This raises a question: What was so difficult about formulating this blessing that only Shmuel HaKattan, of all the Sages, could accomplish it?
Rav Roth posits that particularly this berachah, which is replete with strong curses against the enemies of the Jewish people and Hashem, could not be crafted by anyone with a personal agenda; it had to be 100% le’Sheim Shamayim.
That is why Shmuel HaKattan was the one chosen for this task. We read in Pirkei Avos (4:24), “Shmuel HaKattan omer: Binfol oyvecha al tismach u’vi’kashlo al yageil libecha. Pen yireh Hashem ve’ra be’einav ve’heishiv mei’alav apo — Shmuel HaKattan says: ‘When your enemy falls be not glad, and when he stumbles let your heart not be joyous. Lest Hashem see and it displease Him, and He will turn His wrath from him you.'” The Rambam and other Rishonim take note that this is, in fact, a quote from Mishlei (24:17-18). If that is the case, why is it written in his name? Since Shmuel HaKattan repeated it often and warned others to stay away from this sin, it is also attributed to him.
As such, Shmuel HaKattan was the perfect person to author a prayer cursing our enemies. By constantly preaching the attitude of not rejoicing when one’s enemy falls, he thereby assured that the berachah he composed would not include any unjustified venom or malice, but that all his words would be appropriate and for the sake of Heaven.
Perhaps also, knowing that Shmuel HaKattan was a person who took no personal joy in their downfall, the Tzedukim themselves would not react as negatively as were the berachah to be crafted by one truly hostile to them, who personally relished their defeat. With Shmuel HaKattan as the originator, the argument would no longer be personal, with each side ramping up his hatred for the other. In this way, the Jews would be saved from the vicious cycle of hatred that Tosafos writes normally occurs when one begins to despise those he is supposed to hate.
With this, we may also be able to explain the connection between the first two phrases in the pasuk mentioned all the way at the beginning of this piece: “You shall not hate your brother in your heart; you shall reprove your fellow.” According to the Ramban (negative commandment 302 and positive commandment 205) and the Sefer HaChinuch (mitzvos 238 and 239), these are two separate mitzvos. We now know how feelings can escalate from valid hatred into full-blown antipathy. Hence, before one engages in tochachah, reproof, which can aggravate an even friendly relationship, one must check his motives: Do I harbor hatred in my heart, or am I motivated by love and concern? Is my tochachah sincere, or is it tainted with sinah? (In most cases, the person we are reproving does not fall into the category of one we are required to hate.)
Before embarking on the mitzvah of reproof, we must first eradicate any trace of hatred of our brother from our hearts. For if the person we are reproving senses any animosity on our part, he will immediately reflect it back toward us, and not only will he not accept our words of mussar, but he will most likely hate us even more. And nothing good will come of that.