Chapter 2, Mishna 5(a)
United We Stand
By Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld
"Hillel said, do not separate from the community, do not trust yourself
till the day you die, do not judge your fellow until you reach his place,
do not make a statement which cannot be understood which will [only] later
be understood, and do not say when I have free time I will learn, lest you
not have free time."
This week's mishna was authored by Hillel, to whom we were introduced in
Chapter 1, Mishnas 12-14. Hillel was one of the great scholars of the
early generations of the Mishna and of the late Second Temple era, of
approximately the 1st Century B.C.E. This mishna presents us with a
collection of his short sayings, all of them invaluable and deserving our
careful attention. We will discuss each separately.
Hillel first tells us not to separate ourselves from the community. One
should not feel he is an island, that he neither needs the rest of his
community nor need share in their suffering. The Talmud states: "When the
community is suffering, one may not say 'I will go to my house, eat and
drink, and I will be fine'" (Ta'anis 11a).
A common mindset one hears nowadays, whether spoken or not and both on the
personal and national levels, is "It's not my problem." If people are
suffering on the other side of the world (or two blocks away) it doesn't
affect me and so why should I care? Needless to say, such is a very UN-
Jewish attitude. As we will learn later, one of the traits of the Torah
scholar is "bearing the yoke with his fellow" (6:6, Way
37). We should care if others are suffering -- whether in the form of
massacres in Darfur or a neighbor whose teenage child isn't coping. Our
care may translate into direct involvement, financial assistance, or at
the very least (or maybe not so least) prayer for those in need. The
Talmud writes, "One who is able to pray for mercy for another but does not
is called a sinner" (Brachos 12b). There is certainly some way that
all of us, no matter how distant and uninvolved, can help.
Regardless, however, of what we do about it -- and of course we can't
solve all the world's problems and priorities must be established -- we
must certainly care about others. And it does not stem from some
altruistic sense of universal sympathy for mankind -- nor some selfish
sense that it may happen to us one day and we'll need their help.
It is because we all share the world together and we are all children of G-
d. And if another child is suffering, he is my brother.
There is a further aspect to the sense of community -- one which applies
in particular to the Jewish people. When G-d entrusted Israel with the
Torah and set it upon its national mission, it was not as a collection of
great individuals. It was as a nation. The Book of Genesis is the story of
great individuals, of men such as Abraham who discovered G-d and followed
His calling. Exodus is not a book about individuals -- but about a nation.
It does not focus on great personalities -- save a few brief incidents
which outlined Moses' development as a leader. As many scholars have
observed, we read the first few chapters of Exodus and we are struck that
practically no names appear: "And a man went from the House of Levi and he
married the daughter of Levi" (2:1). "And his sister stood at a distance
to know what would be done to him" (v. 4). The greatest Jews of the
generation (Amram, Yocheved, Miriam) are no-names, fading into obscurity.
The reason for this is because the Book of Exodus -- the story of G-d
redeeming us and making us His chosen nation -- was not concerned with
individuals. G-d selected us as a nation, not as a collection of
individuals, however great. When Israel stood at Sinai to receive the
Torah, the verse states that "Israel camped there opposite the mountain"
(Exodus 19:2). The midrash, noting that Israel is there referred to in the
singular, comments: "as one man with one heart." We were united and G-d
selected us. Only together can we truly serve G-d.
And this is true in a very literal sense. The Torah contains 613 mitzvos
(commandments), yet no one Jew can perform them all. Some mitzvos apply
only to priests (such as the Temple service), while some apply only to non-
priests (burial of the dead); some apply only to men, and some only to
women (laws of family purity). When G-d commanded us in all 613, His
intention was that we perform them as a nation. In addition, some of us
are clearly more suited for some areas than others. Some are scribes, some
(not me) can slaughter animals or perform circumcisions, some are
educators, some are supporters of Torah, some are thinkers, some
visionaries, some down-to-earth doers, etc. The mitzvos were given to a
nation, in which if each and every one of us, using his or her own unique
and G-d-given talents, performs his or her part, the nation in its
entirety becomes "a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (Exodus 19:6).
Finally, this message is equally relevant on a community-wide level. We
must serve and stand before G-d as a united community. The Sages seem to
almost want sinners to be included in our synagogues and
congregations. The Talmud writes that any fast day which does not include
the sinners of Israel (who are of course also fasting and attempting to be
a part of the gathering) is not a fast day, for chelbina (galbanum), a
bitter smelling spice, was an ingredient of the daily incense offering in
the Temple (Kerisos 6b). For better or worse, it takes all kinds to make a
nation.
Likewise, the synagogue services on Yom Kippur begin with a proclamation
permitting prayer with transgressors. We don't want to rule out anyone
(who wants to pray), regardless of how he has acted the rest of the year.
Were we really such paragons of virtue ourselves? We must approach G-d as
a community, as an all-inclusive assembly of G-d. Once we start rejecting
people, even the ones most distasteful to us, we go from being an all-
inclusive nation of G-d to an assortment of individuals -- the ones we
happen to get along with. And as individuals we will never withstand G-d's
exacting and penetrating judgment. United we have a chance of surviving;
divided, forget it.
(On the other hand, there are people who openly and knowingly reject the
most fundamental principles of Judaism -- belief in G-d or in the divinity
of the Torah etc. -- and not from a lack of knowledge or education, but
from an utter contempt of G-d's word. Such people have willingly removed
themselves from the fold, and there is no obligation to include them. We
are an all-inclusive community, but we are still a community of G-d.)
There is an important exception to the above, to being a part of the
community. And that is if the society in which we live becomes degenerate.
Maimonides (Mishne Torah, Hilchos De'os 6:1) writes as follows:
"The nature of man is to be influenced both in outlook and deed by his
friends and to act in the manner of the people of his country. Therefore,
one should strive to befriend the righteous... so that he will learn their
ways. He should likewise avoid the wicked... If he lives in a country
where the customs are evil and its inhabitants do not follow the upright
path, he should move to a place where the people are righteous and act
properly. And if all the countries he knows about act improperly *as in
our times* (emphasis mine), or if he cannot move to a different country...
he should dwell alone [disassociated from others]... And if [this too is
impractical]... he should move out to the caves and wilderness, and not
accustom himself to the ways of sin."
We should care about others and want to be involved with them and
enlighten them. Yet we may never allow this to cause us to sacrifice our
own G-d-given standards of ethics and morality. If the society in which we
live drops all adherence to moral standards, (Are things really better
than they were in Maimonides' time?) we are left with no choice. No one
can take on a whole country, no matter how strong his convictions and
convincing his arguments. And when matters get that bad, we must simply
bow out: withdraw within ourselves, preserve what we may, and pray that G-
d bring better times.
Text Copyright © 2008 by Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld and Torah.org.