Two Parts Of A Whole

From the Mir parsha sheet.

Harav Hagaon Yehuda Wagshal Shlita

In this week’s parashah we have the mitzvah of וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ, and we all know the famous statement of R' Akiva: וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ זֶה כְּלָל גָּדוֹל בַּתּוֹרָה. This needs to be understood, however, because although there are many mitzvos in the Torah that relate to our relationships with other people, there are also many mitzvos in the Torah that are purely bein adam laMakom. How, then, can ְוְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ be a klal gadol for the entire Torah?

In the mitzvah of וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ, the Torah uses the term rei’a for “friend.” Now, in Lashon Hakodesh there are other words that mean “friend,” such as chaver or yedid. What is the significance of the term rei’a in the context of this mitzvah?

Rav Hutner notes that the word rei’a shares a root with the word ra, evil. What does evil have to do with a close friend? He explains that there’s another word with the same shoresh: teruah. Teruah is a broken sound, and a similar word is found in the passuk: תְּרֹעֵם בְּשֵׁבֶט בַּרְזֶל, which means to break someone to pieces with an iron rod. Something that is complete is good; something that’s broken is bad. But what does that have to do with a friendship?

There are different levels of friendship. At one level, friendship begins and ends with two people enjoying each other’s company. They share experiences together, they can laugh at each other’s jokes, and that’s the whole friendship. While they enjoy the company, each one is really living for himself.

Then, there’s a much deeper level of friendship, and that is with a rei’a. In this type of relationship, two people are so close and intertwined that they feel as if they’re part of a greater whole, and on their own they’re broken — a teruah. Only when they’re together do they feel complete.

When the Torah commands, וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ, it conveys that the mitzvah is not just to love one another, but to be able to develop a relationship with another Yid in which we’re two parts of one puzzle, with each one completing the other.

But why is this type of relationship necessary for the mitzvah of וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ? There’s a mitzvah to help any Yid, even if I don’t have that type of relationship with him. Indeed, the Gemara in Shabbos teaches that וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ means that what I wouldn’t want done to me, I shouldn’t do to others: דעלך סני לחברך לא תעביד. This applies even if the relationship is not on the level of rei’acha, so why does the Torah link the mitzvah with the relationship of a rei’a specifically?

Perhaps the Torah is conveying a fundamental lesson here.

In Parashas Mishpatim, when the Torah commands us to give a loan to a person in need, it uses the words: אִם כֶּסֶף תַּלְוֶה אֶת עַמִּי אֶת הֶעָנִי עִמָּךְ. What is the meaning of the phrase אֶת הֶעָנִי עִמָּךְ?

Rashi explains that when someone comes to borrow money from you, before giving him the money, you should make sure to view yourself as if you’re the ani — to recognize and feel the pain and humiliation that he’s experiencing. The phrase אֶת הֶעָנִי עִמָּךְ implies that the ani must be with you — you should feel his poverty yourself, and then you should lend him the money.

If the mitzvah is to lend money to a needy person, why do you have to feel as if you’re the poor person? You’re the rich one, you’re lending him the money, so why should you feel poor? Clearly, the real reason the Torah commands us to do chessed with others is not just to supply their needs. Hashem has many messengers and other ways to supply a pauper’s needs, but He wants Klal Yisrael to connect with one another, to feel the pain of another person in need and strive to ease it, just as you would for your own pain.

The mitzvah to give a loan, then, is not just to lend a person money and send him packing; it’s to connect with him, to feel his pain, to experience what he’s going through — and then to lend him the money.

The primary mitzvah of chessed and וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ is not just performing the action — it’s to feel the person’s pain and understand his crisis. And then, just as you would work to solve your own crisis, you’ll do anything you can to solve his as well.

We can now understand why the Torah chose the word rei’acha. Hakadosh Baruch Hu doesn’t want you to do chessed on the level of a chaver; He wants you to feel like a rei’a, like an incomplete part of a puzzle, so that you feel the other person’s emotions and pain, and you help him from within that connection. That’s the main mitzvah of וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ.

We still need to understand, however, how this relates to all the 613 mitzvos, to the extent that it is considered a klal gadol baTorah.

The Zohar Hakadosh says that the 613 mitzvos are 613 eitzos for how to fulfill the mitzvah of ולדבקה בו and connect to Hakadosh Baruch Hu. Mitzvos are not merely technical acts, but are meant to link us with Hakadosh Baruch Hu. The word “mitzvah” is generally translated as “commandment,” from the root word tzivuy, but “mitzvah” is also related to the root of tzavsa, which implies companionship, closeness, connection.

How do we connect to Hakadosh Baruch Hu?

We say in davening every day:הוּא עָשָׂנוּ ולא [וְלוֹ] אֲנַחְנוּ עַמּוֹ וְצֹאן מַרְעִיתוֹ . The word lo in this passuk is written with an alef but read as though it is written with a vav. With an alef, the meaning of this phrase is that Hashem made us, and we didn’t make ourselves. With a vav, the meaning is that Hakadosh Baruch Hu created us and we’re His — we’re part of Him.

The Sfas Emes explains that two concepts go together: When are we connected to Hakadosh Baruch Hu (לוֹ)? Only when we’re not out for ourselves: וְלֹא אֲנַחְנוּ. Someone who lives only for himself is stuck in his own selfish, self-centered box. He can never connect to Hakadosh Baruch Hu, since he can’t connect to anybody. But if someone is וְלֹא אֲנַחְנוּ — he’s not focused only on himself — he can also be lo anachnu with a vav, and connected to Hakadosh Baruch Hu.

This is the primary purpose of all the 613 mitzvos. These 613 eitzos for how to come close to Hakadosh Baruch Hu train us to remove ourselves from centerstage — and then we can connect to Him.

But we don’t see Hakadosh Baruch Hu right before our eyes, and we don’t always feel His presence as much as we should. Therefore, He gave us the klal gadol baTorah — וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ — exhorting us to practice getting out of our box and becoming less self-centered and more attuned to other people’s feelings. When we do that, and we feel what it means to be rei’acha — two parts of the same puzzle, sharing another person’s pain —we are taking a step out of our selfish box, and that opens us to develop a relationship with Hakadosh Baruch Hu as well.

Although וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ relates to matters of bein adam lachaveiro, it is nevertheless a klal gadol baTorah, since it enables a person to transcend his self-centered existence, which positions him to fulfill the ultimate purpose of all the 613 mitzvos: ולדבקה בו