LECTURE # 17: HUMANITY

BY HARAV YEHUDA AMITAL

I.  THE PLACE FOR HUMAN FEELINGS IN THE OBSERVANCE OF MITZVOT

The worship of God, in whatever form, cannot wipe out simple human feeling. The Rebbe of Kotzk would say about the verse: "And you shall be holy people to me" (Shemot 22:6), that God, as it were, is saying here: "Angels I have in sufficient quantity; I am looking for human beings who will be holy people."

The Gemara in Zevachim (100a) says:

This baraita teaches that even though Kohanim are forbidden to defile themselves by coming into contact with a corpse, in the case of a relative, defiling oneself through contact with the corpse is not only permissible, but even obligatory. From here we may learn that one must be human: when a Kohen's wife dies, he must mourn her, and not immerse himself in other worlds, even in mitzvot.

Rambam comments on this principle (Hilkhot Avel 2:6): "How grave is the mitzva of mourning, for [the prohibition against contracting] ritual impurity is set aside for [a Kohen] because of his relatives, so that he may occupy himself with [their burial] and mourn them." The allowance to contract ritual impurity, according to Rambam, is intended to allow the Kohen to mourn his relatives.

You might ask: But we know that the High Priest is forbidden to contract ritual impurity even in the case of the death of a relative! Does it follow from this that the High Priest is likewise forbidden to mourn? May we conclude from here that at least the elite must rise up above their feelings? This is not the case, for the biblical source for the obligation of mourning – according to those who maintain that mourning is, indeed, a Torah obligation - is found in the words of Aharon, the High Priest, as Rambam writes at the beginning of Hilkhot Avel:

Rambam's proof-text is taken from the words uttered by Aharon following the death of his two sons, in response to the words spoken to him by Moshe (Vayikra 10:16-20):

Aharon brought the required offerings, even though he was in a state of acute mourning (onen), but nevertheless he refrained from eating the sin offering. This is the source for the determination that mourning is a biblical obligation. Thus, we see that even Aharon mourned, even though, practically speaking, he did not interrupt the sacrificial service. The difference between an ordinary Kohen and the High Priest is that the High Priest is not required to give practical expression to his mourning, and he can deal with his grief in his heart, whereas an ordinary Kohen is obligated to defile himself and interrupt his service.

It would seem that the whole idea of mourning is self-contradictory. On the one hand, the mourner is obligated to accept God's judgment, to recite the benediction, "Blessed are You... the true Judge," and say Tzidduk ha-Din (the "justification prayer"). On the other hand, he mourns and wails. This contradiction is particularly prominent in the account of the death of Aharon's two sons, Nadav and Avihu: "And let your brethren, the whole house of Israel, bewail the burning which the Lord has kindled" (ibid., verse 6). On the one hand, we have here recognition of "the burning which the Lord has kindled." On the other hand, "And let your brethren, the whole house of Israel, bewail." But, in fact, there is no contradiction: a person must allow himself to experience human feeling.

II. RECOGNIZING THE HUMAN QUALITIES OF OUR HEROES

There has been a tendency in recent years to idealize great rabbis, to the point of total disregard of their human feelings and weaknesses. The Torah presents the opposite approach: Every person has a human side, which must not be denied. Even the prophets had doubts and difficulties. The Torah recognizes that man lives in this world, and has no expectation that he behave as if he were living in an ideal and unreal universe.

Many midrashim teach us about Chazal's attitude toward the human traits of our national heroes. For example, the midrash describes the following conversation between God and Moshe (Pesikta de-Rav Kahana, 4):

When Moshe heard God cite, as it were, from the future words of Rabbi Eliezer, he prayed that Rabbi Eliezer would be one of his descendants. We are dealing here with a perfectly natural human trait, the desire that one's descendants include great people. Chazal did not regard the attribution of this human trait to Moshe as a slight to his honor.

This tendency is also found in Chazal's stories about the Tannaim and Amoraim. The Gemara in Kiddushin (33a) relates:

Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi did not rebuke his son, Rabbi Shimon, for being angry with his disciple for not rising before him. Just the opposite: he tried to set his mind at ease. Rabbi Shimon's feeling of insult was perfectly human; one of the lessons that may be learned from this account is that human feelings need not be denied.

A similar lesson may be learned from the following story (Sota 40a):

Here, too, the difficult feeling that Rabbi Chiyya bar Abba experienced when nobody stayed to listen to his lecture is human and understandable. It is important to note that even Rabbi Abahu understood this and, therefore, tried, unsuccessfully, to appease Rabbi Chiyya. From here we also learn how important it is to be sensitive to slights to another person's honor, even when no insult is intended.

Let us bring yet another example. The Gemara in Shabbat (118b) cites several Amoraim who spoke about their special meticulousness in the observance of particular mitzvot:

We see here that the feeling of joy and satisfaction about having merited to fulfill a particular mitzva in a superlative fashion is not viewed in a negative light, but rather as a natural and human feeling.

The idea of iyyun tefilla, mentioned by Rav Yehuda, has additional meanings as well. The Gemara in Bava Batra (164b) states:

Here the idea of iyyun tefilla has a negative connotation. What is meant by the term in this context? Rashbam writes (ad loc.):

Tosafot, however, explain (s.v., iyyun tefila):

Tosafot recognize the human elements that prevent one from attaining perfect concentration during prayer.

This idea also follows from what Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai said to his disciples when he blessed them shortly before he died (Berakhot 28b):

Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai's disciples thought that the standard for fearing Heaven should be raised. Their master taught them, however, that while from an ideological perspective they are certainly right, practically speaking, it should be recognized that it is human nature to experience the fear of flesh and blood in a much more tangible manner. We should be very happy to reach a similar level of fear of Heaven.

III.  HUMAN QUALITIES IN INTERPERSONAL RELATIONS

The recognition of mankind's essential humanity finds full expression in the words of Sefer ha-Chinukh (commandment 338):

Sefer ha-Chinukh, however, concludes:

It should, however, be noted that it was never said even about the pious that they should not feel anger. Rather, that because of their heightened trait of watchfulness, lest they be overcome by anger, they do not respond to those who insult them. In any event, the words of the Sefer ha-Chinukh point to the Torah's recognition of humanity, and to the fact that it does not demand of a person to relate with equanimity to those who insult him.

IV. YET YOU DESIRE PRAISE FROM FLESH AND BLOOD

The idea of humanity is given special emphasis in one of the piyyutim that we recite in Yeshivat Har Etzion on Yom Kippur. The piyyut "Asher eimatkha" ("You who are revered") is made up of a series of paired stanzas. In each pair, one stanza refers to the angels, free of sin and desire, who revere, God. The second stanza refers to the people of Israel, flesh and blood, with all their negative qualities. All this notwithstanding, the piyyut stresses that God wants to be praised by human beings, and it is to God's glory that human beings with all their human weaknesses exalt His name:

(Translated by David Strauss)