Photo Credit: Courtesy Rabbi Lebovic
Rabbi Yeheskel Lebovic

Ahavas Yisrael – love of our fellow Jews – has always been acknowledged as a fundamental mitzvah. In the Talmud (Shabbos 31a), we find Hillel saying to the would-be convert who demanded to be taught the entire Torah while standing on one foot: “That which is hateful unto you, don’t do to your fellow.”

The question is raised: Why did he express it in a negative form? Couldn’t he have just quoted the positive expression of the Torah to “love your fellow as yourself”?

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Derech Mizvoseicha points out that you hate it when your faults are exposed to the scrutiny of your fellow because he usually lacks the mitigating love you have toward yourself that covers up and colors your faults, so therefore don’t do that to your fellow; rather, try looking at him with a “love prism” as intense as your own self-love prism.

Another question that can be raised is: If the fellow in question is a person one happens to love anyway, what need is there for a command to love him? And if he is someone we happen not to love (or actually detest), what good will the command do in that case?

According to many commentators, the mitzvah of Ahavas Yisrael does not necessarily require emotional love for its fulfillment. Rather, says the Ibn Ezra, the verse “You shall love your fellow as yourself” is to be understood as “love what is good for your fellow just as what is good to you.”

In other words, whatever you wish and want for yourself, wish and want exactly that for your fellow; treat him with the respect and dignity you yourself would like to receive from others. Thus, the mitzvah can be observed on the level of action and speech regardless of what is in one’s thoughts and feelings.

Ibn Ezra bases himself on the terminology employed in the verse, which, in the original, contains a seemingly superfluous preposition: “You shall love unto your fellow as yourself.” The text, he explains, must be understood with that preposition in place: You shall love (treat respectfully and be concerned about) all that belongs to and has a connection to your fellow.

However, the very fact that the term “you shall love” is used in the Torah seems to indicate that emotional love is part of the mitzvah. The explanation is that reflection and meditation have the ability to elicit feelings. If we’d only reflect upon the intrinsic interconnection and affinity that binds all Jewish souls, such reflection would eventually elicit the latent love we undoubtedly have for fellow Jews to come out in a revealed state.

That love is often concealed – to the point where we can develop negative feelings toward certain individuals. The Torah commands us to reflect upon certain truths to the point that such reflection will elicit our latent Ahavas Yisrael.

One can reflect on some statements extolling the virtues of the Jewish people. Malachi 3:12 states, “For you shall be unto me a desirable land, says God.” The Baal Shem Tov explains that in the same way that great scientists will never discover all of the enormous natural resources God has sunk into the land, neither will anyone discover all the enormous natural resources that lie within the people of Israel – God’s “desirable land.”

One might, however, still ask: How can you expect me to ever love a person I actually detest, no matter how much I may reflect on the Divine root of his soul, or on the fact that we Jews are part of the same whole?

One method of achieving emotional love is to habituate oneself to acts and speech of kindness. The constant repetition of such thoughts and actions, even toward individuals we find difficult to love, eventually leaves its mark on our inner selves.

We can thus couple inner reflection with outward deeds and words. Thus, even according to Ibn Ezra, dealing kindly with fellow Jews, even if only on the level of speech and action, should eventually bring emotional love in its train.

Now, is it correct to utter kind words if they are not coupled with matching emotions? Does it not border on empty flattery?

The truth is, if we are making an honest effort to have our actions and words speak louder than our (negative or neutral) feelings, and we desire to eventually cultivate feelings of love, such words are not willful flattery. Rather, they are an expression of a difficult avodah in which we are consciously engaged.

In addition, the underlying reason(s) why we may not like a person are usually chinam – worthless, not valid, or an overblown figment of one’s mental projection.

In many cases, when a “wronged” party approaches a suspected maligning party and asks, “Is it true you said such-and-such about me?” the allegations about the lashon hara turn out to have been taken out of context or even false – i.e., the cause for the ill feeling turns out to be either non-existent or at least grossly exaggerated. The reasons for hatred will then often pale into insignificance.

As noted above, human nature is such that there is a tendency for one to look at oneself through a prism of self-love, which minimizes one’s faults. Hillel’s point was that this tendency should be likewise applied when viewing others.

Then, perhaps, as a further spiritual development, one might be able to make the love prism for our fellow more intense than the love prism for ourselves. For in truth it is easier to find justification for others than it is for ourselves.

The would-be-convert was at the very starting point of spiritual development and was thus being taught the alef beis of spiritual service – i.e. look at others at least in the same way you tend to look at yourself.

In view of the current world upheavals – North Korea, storms of epic proportions, etc. – it would be well to strengthen our observance of Ahavas Yisrael and mitzvos between man and man. The Torah guarantees longevity in this world for observing such mitzvos.

We recite daily the Mishnah of Pe’ah (1:1): “These are precepts the fruit of which man enjoys in this world while the main reward is in the next world: honoring parents, performing deeds of kindness, spending time in the beis medrash in the morning and the evening, providing hospitality to guests, visiting the sick, helping needy brides, accompanying the dead, concentrating on the meaning of prayers, and generating peace between fellow men” – most of which are mitzvos between man and man.

We should have in mind that the zechus we thus generate should stand in good stead for the benefit of our fellow Jews and for mankind in general. May this elicit divine mercy and intervention toward meriting that all be inscribed for a good and sweet new year.


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Rabbi Yeheskel Lebovic is spiritual leader of Cong. Ahavath Zion of Maplewood, New Jersey. He can be reached at [email protected].