Why
should I be punished for your sin
When
the Torah mentions the obligation to rebuke a fellow Jew, it ends with the
words, “and do not carry his sin.” The Targum translates this as, “And do
not receive a punishment for his sin.”
According to the Targum, it appears that if Reuvain ate a ham sandwich and I
didn’t rebuke him, I would be punished for his sin. Why should this be? At
most, you might argue that if I was capable of rebuking him and didn’t, I
would be responsible for the sin of not rebuking him. But how do I become
responsible for the sin that he perpetrated? He transgressed it; I didn’t.
One
nation, one people
The
answer to this question is based on understanding the connection that one
Jew has to another.
The
Kli Yakir brings a Moshol. Imagine a man on an ocean voyage. He hears a
strange rattling sound in the cabin next to him. As the noise continues, he
becomes more and more curious, until finally, he knocks on his neighbor’s
door. When the door opens, he sees that his neighbor is drilling a hole in
the side of the boat.
“What
are you doing?” the man cries.
“Oh, I
am drilling,” the neighbor answers simply.
“Drilling?”
“Yes,
I’m drilling a hole in my side of the boat.”
“Stop
that,” the man will say.
“But
why?” asks the neighbor. “This is my cabin. I paid for it, and I can do what
I want here.”
“No,
you can’t,” the man replies. “If you cut a hole in your side, the entire
boat will go down.”
The
nimshol is that the Jewish people is one entity. For a Jew to say “What I do
is my business and doesn’t affect anyone else,” is categorically false. My
actions affect you, and your actions affect me — we are one unit. It is as
if I have co-signed on your loan. If you default on your payments, the bank
will come after me. I didn’t borrow the money — but I am responsible. So
too, when we accepted the Torah together on Har Sinai, we became one unit,
functioning as one people. If you default on your obligations, they come to
me and demand payment. We are teammates, and I am responsible for your
performance.
The
Targum is teaching us the extent of that connection. What Reuvain does
directly affects me — not because I am nosy or a busybody, but because we
are one entity — so much so that I am liable for what he does. If he sins
and I could have prevented it, that comes back to me. A member of my team
transgressed, and I could have stopped it from happening. If I did all that
I could have to help him grow and shield him from falling, I have met my
obligation and will not be punished. If, however, I could have been more
concerned for his betterment and more involved in helping to protect him
from harm and didn’t, then I am held accountable for his sin.
Don’t
rebuke others– it doesn’t work
This
perspective is central to understanding why rebuke doesn’t work.
When
Revain goes over to Shimon and “gives it to him good”, really shows just
what he has done wrong, the only thing accomplished is that now Shimon also
hates Reuvain.
To
properly fulfill the mitzvah of Tochacha there are two absolute
requirements. The first is in regards to attitude, and the second
relates to method.
What is
my intention?
When I
go over to my friend to chastise him, the first question I must ask myself
is, “What is my intention?”
If my
intention is to set him straight and stop him from doing a terrible sin,
then I will almost certainly fail. The only intention that fits the role of
a successful mochiah is: “This is my friend; I am concerned for his
good.”
If I am
looking out for Kavod Shmayaim, or if I am a do-gooder concerned for the
betterment of the world, then my words will accomplish the exact opposite of
their intended purpose. I won’t succeed in separating my friend from the
sin; I will only succeed in separating him from me. The first
requirement for the proper fulfillment of Tochacha is that it must be out of
love and concern for my friend.
Do you
shout when you put on tefillin?
The
Chofetz Chaim was once approached by a certain community leader who
complained that no matter how much he reproached the people of his town,
they didn’t listen. The Chofetz Chaim asked this person to describe how he
went about rebuking his townspeople. The man described his method of yelling
fiery words at them. The Chofetz Chaim asked him, “Tell me, when you put on
Tefillin, do you shout and carry on?” “Then why do you feel the obligation
to do so when you do this mitzvah?”
One of
the most basic concepts of human relations is that people hate
criticism. We hate it worse than poison, and we avoid it like the
plague. When you criticize me, I am hypersensitive. If you whisper, I hear
it as loud speech, and when you speak quietly, I hear it as if you are
shouting in my ears. Being ever aware of this is critical in choosing the
method, tone, and words with which I approach my friend. The mitzvah of
Tochacha is to help my friend improve. Without a strategy that is sensitive
to human nature, even the best of intentions will backfire. To succeed in
this mitzvah, I need to choose my words very carefully, making sure that
they are as soft and non-offensive possible. This is the second requirement
of the Mitzvah.
Out of
concern and love
The reality is
that this is a very difficult mitzvah to perform correctly. Typically, we
find ourselves either not wanting to get involved or saying things that
cause more harm than good. If the driving force in doing this mitzvah is
concern for the good of our friends, and we carefully study human nature and
choose our words guardedly, HASHEM will help us to perform this Mitzvah
properly.
For
more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #53
– I’m Never Wrong
