Chapter 3, Mishna 13
G-d Fashioned In The Image of Man
By Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld
"He [Rabbi Chanina] used to say, anyone who is pleasing to his fellows
is
pleasing to G-d. Anyone who is not pleasing to his fellows is not pleasing
to G-d."
This week's mishna tells us a simple but often forgotten principle of
Judaism. Our goal is not only to please G-d. It is equally to please man.
And if we do not, we fail in one of the major objectives of Judaism. Say a
person is very holy and pious, so very "close" to G-d, but he somehow
manages to get on everyone else's nerves (we all probably know people like
this ;-) -- somehow he's not doing it right. Judaism requires us to fulfill
a dual mission in this world: to sanctify ourselves, and to be a "light
unto the nations" (Isaiah 42:6). And neither mission can exist without its
counterpart. If we are not faithful to our G-d and our tradition, we will
not correctly project holiness to mankind. We will become known as the Jews
who agitate for all sorts of other social and political issues (and Jews
are at the forefront of practically all of them today). Conversely, if we
entirely isolate ourselves from the world at large -- with a "who cares
what the goyim say" attitude -- we might well sanctify ourselves, but the
rest of humanity will be left unmoved and uninspired.
We discussed a closely related issue in Chapter 2
(2:1
(www.torah.org/learning/pirkei-avos/chapter2-1a.html)). There we discussed
Israel's mission of being a light unto the nations, and the dilemma of
maintaining absolute religious standards while somehow earning the approval
and admiration of biased and imperfect man. In other words, is it fair of
our mishna to state that one cannot be a good servant of G-d if he is not
beloved to man? Please feel free to check out our discussion there. This
week I'd like to discuss another fascinating dilemma which stems from our
dual mission of pleasing both G-d and man.
The mitzvos (commandments) of the Torah may be divided into two basic
types: those between man and G-d, and those between man and his fellow.
The first category includes many of the more "religious" aspects of
Judaism: kashrus (dietary laws), Sabbath, holidays, phylacteries, etc. The
latter deals with a wide range of issues: charity, honesty in business and
interpersonal relations, marriage, divorce, honoring our parents,
returning lost items, theft and damages, civil law, etc. The subject
matter sometimes appears more worldly and less rigorously-defined, but it
emanate from Sinai and is the word of G-d all the same.
On one level, the intent of our mishna might be said to fall along the same
lines. One cannot truly be a servant of G-d if he neglects his obligations
towards man. Tragically, we have all seen or heard of such individuals --
who are meticulous to the letter in their religious duties to G-d -- in
their worship, practice, eating habits, dress, etc. -- but who are busy
serving lengthy prison sentences for their devious, underhanded business
practices (either that or they haven't yet been caught ;-). (A
distinguished Jew was once asked to intervene on behalf of a Jewish
criminal doing time in a U.S. prison who wanted to be allowed to spend the
High Holidays with his family. Of course, the advocate's sympathies were
aroused: what kind of Rosh Hashanah could one have wallowing in jail? In
the process of attempting to help the fellow, however, he found to his
horror that not only were religious High Holiday services being held in
the prison compound, but there were two minyanim (versions of the
service) -- nusach Ashkenaz and nusach Sefard!) (Pardon me for those who
didn't catch that. As most Jewish jokes, it would lose far too much in the
translation. ;-)
Needless to say, such a person, regardless of the most scrupulous adherence
to ritualistic code, is hardly pleasing to his G-d. And this of course is
not limited to big-time white-collar criminals. Anyone who is meticulous
(often pathologically so) about religious detail but yells at his wife,
takes out his frustrations on his kids, is verbally abusive and domineering
towards others, is no servant of G-d. And again tragically, highly
respected Jewish community members -- who seem to get along fine with
people outside the home -- sometimes fall into this category. And such
religiosity is hardly pleasing to G-d; He might very well find it
repulsive.
(Even with the remoteness of the internet, I've had readers write to me
complaining about the horrible upbringings they've had -- under abusive and
tyrannical fathers, and the scars it left behind on the children. One can
hardly be a servant of G-d without while being his own deity within.)
When Israel at the time of the First Temple was hopelessly morally
corrupt -- but the people were all the while meticulously performing the
Temple service, G-d retorted: "Why do I need your many sacrifices, says the
L-rd... For when you come to appear before My Presence [at the Temple], who
asked this of your hands, [you] who trample My courtyard?" (Isaiah 1:11-
12). The Temple service was *commanded* by G-d; it was obligatory. Yet
people who saw that as the sum-total of religious observance were unwanted
trespassers in G-d's Temple. What are you doing here? Why waste your time?
Is that all you think there is to religion -- incense, ritual and priestly
garments? Sacrifices which are supposed to appease an angry G-d -- so you
can behave any way you want the rest of the time? Is there no true meaning
to Judaism? No self-improvement, character development, growing to become
beings in the image of G-d? Ritual was all those people saw in Judaism,
and G-d threw it back in their faces. The same sacrifices which G-d
ordinarily refers to as a "sweet-smelling savor" became noxious fumes. And
the destruction of the First Temple -- together with all their cockamamie
notions of religious devotion -- was not long in following.
I believe, however, there is a much deeper message in the words of our
mishna. R. Chanina stated that we must be pleasing not only to G-d, but to
man as well. And it's not only a matter of having healthy interpersonal
relationships. Our entire fates *depend* on our fellow's approval. Let us
explain.
The Mishna (Yoma 8:9) states that if a person sins to G-d, he or she needs
to ask forgiveness from G-d alone. (In the language of the mishna: "Yom
Kippur effects atonement.") If, however, he sins to his fellow man, not
only must he ask G-d for forgiveness, but he must also appease the person
he has hurt (in addition to compensating any monetary damages). If not, no
matter how hard he prays and repents to G-d, he cannot be fully absolved
on the heavenly scales.
Now let us say the other person is intransigent. He or she refuses to
forgive you, even though you really are sorry. Say G-d Himself sees your
regret and would for His part be willing to forgive you. But G-d is
helpless, so to speak, because the offended party is unyielding. Are we
really bound to the obstinacy and intransigence of imperfect and
small-minded man -- to be judged by a jury of our peers? Wouldn't we expect
G-d's infinite wisdom and objectivity to be a far truer and fairer judge of
our fates?
We now arrive at a truly profound insight into Judaism (perhaps the most
important one we've discussed in an entire week :-). Our fates must be
dependent, to some degree, on our fellow man. If not, we would never
realize the potential G-d intends for us. We cannot serve G-d through our
own eyes alone. If we have any real understanding of who G-d is -- He
loves us, He values us, He understands us, He knows that our faults are
external and not really how we want to act -- we will never grow out of
our own shells. We know that G-d loves us for all our faults and just the
way we are -- and we might never become anything greater. We will view G-d
in our own image -- living comfortably with the smug feeling that G-d
loves us just the way we are.
On the one hand, that is a very accurate picture of the G-d of Israel. G-d
does love and understand us -- far more in fact than we love and understand
ourselves. In fact, that might even be the truest statement we can
confidently make about our infinite and unknowable Creator. But with that
image in mind, we will never be forced to grow, and more importantly, we
will never have to view ourselves from without. If another stubborn and
shortsighted human being doesn't like me, I can either forever bear my
grudge, or I can begin to introspect, to consider why others don't always
see things the way I do.
And this is the true challenge of man. We must be at the mercy of our
fellows. We must first convince them to forgive us -- because G-d cannot
save us from ourselves. If we attempt to understand how others tick, we
might just begin to realize that we are not always right and that there are
other, equally-valid ways of viewing life. Most people are neither
completely right nor utterly crazy. And so we can and must learn from
them -- and see the world from their perspectives. And at that point,
rather than seeing and fashioning G-d in our own image, we will be forced
to see ourselves -- as well as all of mankind -- as beings in the image of
G-d.
Based in part on a lecture heard from R. Yitzchak Berkowitz of Jerusalem,
Israel (http://aish.com).
Text Copyright © 2004 by Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld and Torah.org.