Love: Limited and Unlimited

This week’s Parsha is the longest in Sefer Devarim and contains no less than 55 individual Mitzvos. In fact, only two other Parshios in the entire Torah, Ki Seitzei and Emor, contain more Mitzvos. With so many various topics, it can be difficult to select one specific Mitzvah to discuss, but I would like to focus on an idea that applies not only to our everyday lives, but perhaps can also be related to the month of Elul as we celebrate Rosh Chodesh this Shabbos.

There is a section of the Parsha that discusses various cases of Jews who stray from the path of the Torah. The first example is that of the Navi Sheker—one who spreads a false prophecy. Next, the Torah speaks about the case of a Masis—one who tries to lure others into serving Avodah Zara. The last example that the Torah speaks about is the Ir Hanidachas, where an entire city is guilty of serving Avodah Zarah.

The way the Torah discusses the Masis is unique among these three examples. The Passuk begins: “Ki Yisischa Achicha Ben Imecha: If your brother, the son of your mother, entices you” and then lists a number of other relatives who may try and sway a person toward Avodah Zarah, including children or a spouse. In the other sections, the Navi Shevek and Ir Hanidachas, there is no mention that the one involved in the bad acts might be a relative.

In fact, the Torah seems to go out of the way to list all relatives—brother, son, daughter, wife—and then says “O Reacha: or your friend.” Obviously it is possible that the Torah used an example of a relative trying to steer someone toward Avodah Zarah because there is more of a chance that one will listen to a close relative and be affected by them, but if that was the case, why include Reacha, a friend? If we are commanded not to be affected by those closest to us, why does the Torah then mention a friend? Would we not know this already? In a more general sense we must understand why the Torah specifically speaks about the idea of a family member, or even close friend, in the case of a Masis—any charismatic individual who is capable of such an act and may convince others to join him can be just as dangerous.

As we continue to learn the Parsha, the picture becomes a bit more clear. Two Pessukim later, after mentioning the type of Aveiros suggested by the Masis, the Torah continues: “Lo Soveh Lo, V’Lo Sishma Elav.” The word “Soveh” is uncommon, but Rashi explains that it is related to love, as in “Lo Teahavenu: Do not love him.” Rashi then quotes the Sifri, which says that one may think that we should love the Masis, because there is a Mitzvah of “V’ahavta L’Reacha Kamocha” so the Torah specifically tells us not to love him.

Based on Rashi and the Sifri, it is understandable why the Torah mentioned “Reacha” even after listing all the various family members—there is an obvious connection to the Passuk of “V’ahavta L’reacha Kamocha” and the Torah tells us that although this person is your R’eah, in this case “Lo Soveh Lo” we may not love him.

This is not just advice or a good idea, though. The imperative not to love a Masis is counted as one of the Taryag Mitzvos by the Sefer Hachinuch. In listing the Mitzvah, however, the Chinuch does not provide a Shoresh, or reason, for this Mitzvah, but rather refers back to the previous Mitzvah—the Issur of listening to a Navi Sheker.

In that Mitzvah, the Chinuch explains that the reason for the Issur is to prevent us from entertaining the ideas presented by the false prophet for even a second. Although Emes always prevails, the Chinuch writes, the Torah did not want us to waste any part of our time on the falsehoods and nonsense of the Navi Sheker, and so there is an Issur to even listen to him!

We must undestnd though, how this applies in the case of the Masis. When it comes to the Navi Sheker, the Torah tells us not to listen to him and thereby prevents us from spending any time at all mired in his lies and misdirection. But in the case of the Masis, we are told not to love him: the requirement not to follow him is implicit—he suggests the service of Avodah Zarah—but the Torah seems to be telling us that were we to love the Masis it is paramount to listening to the Navi Sheker and we should not waste even a moment on such emotion.

It is apparent that the Torah places great importance on the requirement that we not love the Masis. This is not merely because we are to despise someone who is determined to steer his fellow Jews toward Avodah Zarah—the Chinuch counts a separate Mitzvah of hating a Masis. Rather, the Torah wishes us to specifically not love him, regardless of our intent to follow in his ways.

In a sense to Torah anticipates the difficulty we may see in fulfilling this Mitzvah. We are told to love every Jew—V’Ahavta L’Reacha Kamocha and this is, or should be ingrained in our psyche. For this reason, as the Sifri says, the Passuk makes it clear that in this case we must not love this person, the Masis. We must understand why this is the case. What is so detrimental about the love we may have for one who is a Masis, that the Torah issues a separate Mitzvah not to love him, and that it is akin to listening to a Navi Sheker as the Chinuch intimates?

In a more general sense, the entire Passuk is a little difficult to understand: if the Mitzvah of V’Ahavta L’Reacha Kamocha applies to all regardless of their spiritual stature, why is it suspended in this case? And if this Mitzvah does not apply when a person is acting in ways that are contrary to the Derech HaTorah—if we are not required to love such individuals—why do we need a specific Mitzvah here?

The truth is that this Passuk may be a little easier to relate to in this day and age. We live in a “you’re ok, I’m ok” society, and our predilection is toward universal love and a precept that we must love our fellow Jew regardless of his level of observance or his negative actions. Therefore, when this is not the case, when we are required not to a love a fellow Jew, we need a specific Passuk to tell us so. If we look at it with fresh eyes, however, the existence of a Mitzvah, Lo Soveh, in order to keep us from misapplying another Mitzvah, V’Ahavta L’Reacha Kamocha, seems almost redundant. How are we to understand this Mitzvah and what is the lesson to take that can guide us in our lives?

Perhaps a closer look at the Mitzvah of V’Ahavta L’Reacha Kamocha is in order.

The Passuk in Parshas Kedoshim tells us to love our fellow man as we do our own selves: V’Ahavta L’Reacha Kamocha. Why does the Torah use the word ‘Reah’ in this context as opposed to an alternative word for friend—like Chaver—or a more general word for a fellow member of the Am Kadosh. Certainly the Mitzvah applies to even someone who does not rise to the level of “friend”, why does the Torah seem to limit this Mitzvah to friends by using the word ‘Reah’?

Rav Hutner, in Pachad Yitzchok, explains that the word Reah comes from the same root as the word Teruah, as in the sound of a Shofar. Just like a Teruah is a broken Shofar blast, so to a Reah refers to something that is broken off a larger piece. When the Torah says “V’Ahavta L’Reacha Kamocha” it is reminding us that each Jew is broken off a larger mass—Klal Yisroel—and it is for that reason that we must love him regardless of any deeper connection: it ought to be enough that we are all “broken” from the same whole, torn from the same cloth—we are all “Reim” in relation to the great Klal.

There is however, notes R’ Hutner, another usage of the word “Reah”. Klal Yisroel is referred to a “Rayasi” in Shir HaShirim and Hashem himself is referred to in Mishlei as “Reacha V’Reah Avicha.” This connotes a connection between Klal Yisroel and Avinu Shebashamayim on a level of Reyus as well. R’ Hutner explains that this is related to the concept of “Kudsha Brich Hu, V’Yisroel, V’Oraysa Chad Hu. Klal Yisroel, Bnei Yisroel and the Torah are all one—we are all connected and intertwined. Thus, in relation to Hakadosh Baruch Hu, Klal Yisroel has an element of Reyus as well, as we are “broken” off a greater whole.

Using this concept of Reyus, perhaps we can understand the Pessukim in our Parsha.

When we see someone acting improperly, even trying to steer others toward Avodah Zarah, we may react by saying: “He is mistaken, and his ideas are wrong. I won’t listen to him, but I can still love him as a Jew, and hope that he finds his way back.”

The Torah tells us that this attitude is in fact misguided. The concept of V’Ahavta L’Reacha Kamocha tells us that we must love those who are torn from the same cloth as us—our fellow Jews—but at the same time we must remember that there is a bigger picture: as a Klal we share a relationship of Reyus with the Kudsha Brich Hu and we must ensure that these relationships do not contradict each other. If someone is trying to lead others specifically away from Hashem, as a Masis, to show him love would be to disregard our relationship with Hashem. In this case, viewing the Masis as a Reah to be loved would be antithetical to the precept that “Kudsha Brich Hu, V’Yisroel, V’Oraysa Chad Hu”. The Torah instructs us not to love the Masis, regardless of the Mitzvah of V’Ahavta L’Reacha Kamocha not because we may not understand that Mitzvah, but because we may underestimate the full ramifications of such an emotion. In trying to convince others to serve Avodah Zarah, the Masis removes people from their relationship with Hashem; loving him accomplishes the same result: a destruction of our Reyus with Hakadosh Baruch Hu. Therefore the Torah tells us not to ignore our instinct to love him despite his shortcomings for this alone would accomplish his goal on some level—thus it is truly equitable to listening to the words of the Navi Sheker, as the Chinuch explained.

We learn from the Parsha of Masis that while we must love each and every Jew, and we must view ourselves as parts of the same whole, there is a limit to this relationship. Our connection to He who is called “Reacha V’Reah Avicha” is of primacy. If a person’s actions seek to destroy this relationship, we must display our allegiance to Avinu Shebashamayim by granting him no harbor, and betraying him no emotion.

While we are commanded to limit our love for fellow Jews based on their actions, however, we must know that this is not the case when it comes to our relationship with Hashem.

The Passuk in Tehillim, which we recite twice each day beginning in Elul, says: “Ki Avi V’Imi Azavuni V’Hashem Yasfeni: when my father and mother leave me, Hahsem will take me up. ” R’ Shmuel Berenbaum explained that while even a parent’s love may have boundaries—and at a certain point be unsustainable—the love that Hashem has for each of us knows no bounds. In the case of the Masis we see where a parent’s love for his own child must end—where it may interfere with his relationship with his own Av Harachaman. At that point though, there can still be a certain level of love from Hashem to that child. “Ki Avi V’Imi Azavuni V’Hashem Yasfeni.”

In this week’s Parsha we see the level of connection that each of us share with Hakadosh Baruch Hu, the “Reacha V’Reah Avicha” and how important it is to maintain that relationship. As we approach these days, we must keep in mind that despite whatever deficiencies we may have in our own Avodas Hashem, we are loved by our own Av Harachaman, and that love has no limits.

What more powerful message can there be to begin the season of Elul and Yomim Noraim with?