Rav Podolsky z"l
"These were the heads of their fathers' houses: the sons of Reuven... The sons of Shimon... These were the names of the sons of Levi... (Shmos 6:14-16)." Why does the Torah emphasize the names of Levi, while those of Reuven and Shimon are seemingly ignored?
The Sh'lah HaKadosh (Rav Yeshayahu HaLevi Horowitz) suggested: It is known that the tribe of Levi was not subject to slavery. Still, Levi did not ignore his brothers' suffering; he did not bury his head in the sand of freedom and fun. He wished to actively participate in his brothers' anguish. How so? This is where the names come in. He named his sons after his brothers' bondage. "Gershon" -- for they were "gerim" (aliens) in a foreign land. "Kehas" -- for they gritted their teeth (kehos) in their suffering. "Merari" -- for their lives had been embittered (maror). Hence the singling out of the names of Levi.
Levi embodied the fundamental Torah principle to identify with our friends in their time of distress. In the language of our Sages this is known as "Noseh b'ol im chaveiro" -- to help our friend carry his burden.
"The Torah is acquired through 48 ways... (Avos 6:6)." Torah cannot be acquired by merely opening up a book of Torahliterature. There are forty-eight prerequisites without which one is doomed to failure. One of these is to be "Noseh b'ol im chaveiro." The Tiferes Yisrael teaches that this includes physical assistance, financial assistance, and emotional identification. The first two are completely reasonable. By extending ourselves physically or financially, we help ease our friend's burden and alleviate his distress. But what is the point of feeling his pain? If I offer no real help, of what value is my empathy? Further, what benefit did Levi do for his brothers by naming his children after their misfortune?
"The Rabbis taught, when the Jewish people suffer and one member separates himself [from them], two ministering angels who accompany each person come and place their hands on his head. They declare, 'This person who disassociated himself from the community shall not see the consolation of the community...' Rather, one should suffer together with the community. Just as Moshe Rabbeinu who suffered with the community, as it says, 'Moshe's hands grew heavy, so they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it (Shmos 17:12).' Did Moshe not have a pillow or cushion to sit on? Rather, thus said Moshe, 'Since the Jewish people are suffering, so should I suffer together with them.' Moreover, anyone who suffers together with the community will merit to see the consolation of the community (Taanis 11a)."
Once again we behold this extraordinary aspect of "carrying the burden with our friend." Though we may not directly help them, there seems to be a distinct benefit in experiencing empathy, in feeling compassion. This is the empathy that Levi practiced by naming his children after his brothers' slavery. But still, what is the reasoning behind this? What gain could possibly there be?
Benefit #1: There is a mitzvah to emulate the ways of Hashem. "Just as He is merciful and gracious, so should you be merciful and gracious (Shabbos 133b)." By emulating Hashem, we become one with him. This was the secret that spurred Avraham's development into the greatest Ba'al Chessed (philanthropist) who ever lived.
One of Hashem's middos is that He 'feels' pain when Klal Yisrael feels pain. "I am with him in pain (Tehillim 91)." "In all their affliction, He was afflicted (Yeshaya 63:9)." On this verse the Medrash comments, "Said Hashem to Moshe, 'Do you not feel that I am suffering just as Yisrael is suffering? You should know that from the place from where I am speaking to you amongst the thorns (in the burning bush), it is as if I am a partner in their suffering (Shmos Rabba 2:5)." Thus, the obligation to actually feel the pain of our fellow Jews applies to each one of us.
How do we go about developing this midda? How can we learn to feel another's pain? We must learn from Moshe Rabbeinu. "Moshe grew up and went out to his brethren, and he saw their suffering (Shmos 2:11)." Rashi comments: "He focused his eyes and his heart to suffer for them." Moshe made it his daily practice to look at the Jews and to put himself in their place. He established a ritual whereby he would sit and contemplate their untold anguish. He would picture the grief he would have experienced in their unbearable situation. Using his imagination, he was able to conjure up the emotions that he expected he would have felt under such extreme duress. Eventually, he became one of them.
Not just anyone can be elected leader of Klal Yisrael. It is far too easy to close one's eyes; to pretend not to have seen; to excuse oneself, "After all, am I not occupied with matters of consequence?" That is the problem with many politicians. After they have become accustomed to the upholstered chair of their congress chamber, once they have become used to the attention (political flattery) they receive from the "leaders" of the world, after they have made "friends" of all the "movers and shakers", who sees poverty? Who sees deprivation, misery, pain? One's eyes become attuned to a different wavelength, to a different spectrum. One fails to see.
Not so Moshe Rabbeinu. "He saw their suffering." He actively looked and took it to heart. So much so, that he simply could not remain in bed while these unfortunates continued to suffer.
Listen carefully to the following Medrash: " 'Moshe grew up and went out to his brethren, and he saw their suffering (Shmos2:11).' What does it mean by 'and he saw'? [It means] that he would look at their suffering, and weep, and exclaim, 'I have pity for you! If only I could die for your sake!' For there is no work [more difficult] than building, yet he would lend his shoulder and help each and every one of them [carry his burden] (Shmos Rabba 1:27)." Absolutely unbelievable! Moshe himself, who had grown up as a prince in the palace of Pharaoh, physically went out and attempted to alleviate the suffering of the Jewish slaves. Instead of curling up on a lazy-boy recliner with a pina-colada in a half-coconut with a diminutive umbrella, fanned with palm fronds by his many personal servants (and no one would have said 'Boo'), he aroused himself, davened vasikin, and went personally to the aid of his brothers -- slave labor!
And this brings us to Benefit #2. When one becomes sensitive to another's pain, one becomes more likely to actually help that person. Apathy breeds inaction. Moshe saw; ergo Moshe acted. This was Moshe's midda, and for this he was appointed our leader and savior.
When we see a passing Hatzalah ambulance, let us not relegate it to the back burners of our brain. Rather, let us contemplate: Someone is not well, perhaps injured, in pain, and most certainly scared. Maybe that person is my age, just like me. How would I feel in their place now? How nervous I would be, all alone, without my parents, without my friends! How insecure I would feel! And then let us offer a short, heart-felt tefilla for their wellbeing. We would have wanted them to do the same for us.
There is far too much coldness in this world, far too much selfishness. May Hashem open our hearts to see others, and by doing so, may we ultimately merit to see Him -- To see ourselves.
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