-         Hillel, Pirkei Avot

Once, while Rabbi Dov Ber of Lubavitch was receiving people in yechidut, he suddenly locked the door and refused to see another soul.  From outside his door, the Rebbe could be heard weeping and praying. Hours later, the Rebbe was so weakened from his weeping and praying that he had to be confined to his bed for several days.  Only when he was himself again did one of the elder chassidim dare to ask what had occurred.

Rabbi Dov Ber explained, “When a person seeks my assistance in curing his spiritual ills, I must first find the same failing in myself – be it in the subtlest of forms. For it is not possible for me to help him unless I myself have already experienced the same problem and undergone the same process of self-refinement...” 

On that day, a man had come to the Rebbe a problem that horrified the gentle and holy man.  He could hardly fathom the depths to which the man had fallen.  “Try as I might, I could not find within myself anything even remotely resembling what he told me. But Divine Providence had sent this man to me, so I knew that somewhere, somehow, there was something in me that could relate to his situation. The thought shook me to the very core of my soul and moved me to repent and return to God from the depths of my heart.”

As Moshe reviewed the important lessons for the nation to remember after his passing, he reminded Klal Yisrael that he’d instructed the judges, “…listen among your brethren and judge righteously between a man and his brother or his litigant. You shall not show favoritism in judgment; small and great alike shall you hear...” (Devarim 1:16)

Here, Moshe is making clear that the Judges should never show favoritism that could corrupt the justice they are responsible for assessing.  The obvious recipients of the words, “You shall not show favoritism…” are the Judges themselves.  Yet, when measured against a similar admonition (You shall not show favoritism…) in Shoftim, “You shall place judges and policemen in all your gates, and they shall judge the people justly,” we are called to examine these words more closely. 

Shoftim v’shotrim titen l’cha.  Here, the Torah is clearly speaking to the people.  It is telling them that theirs is to be a society based on laws, laws that are to be administered fairly and judiciously.  “You shall not show favoritism…” seems to be directed to the Judges.  “You shall place judges…” is directed to the people. Yet, almost immediately after this, the Torah, still speaking in the second person, commands, “You shall not pervert judgment… you shall not accept a bribe…”

Who is the “you” now? 

It would seem to be the Judges.  And yet the directive, coming on the heels of the earlier one, suggests that it is still being addressed to the People. 

Rav Nisan Alpert z’l observed that we tend to associate certain laws and warnings as applying to certain individuals or even groups.  For example, there are laws in the Torah relevant only to Kohanim and other laws exclusively governing the melech.  It would seem, therefore, perfectly reasonable for these admonitions be directed only to Judges. 

The flaw in this “perfect” reasonableness is that, unlike a Kohen or Melech, whose responsibilities fall far beyond those of R’ Yisroel – you and me – the laws pertaining to judges do fall within our experience.  We may not wear robes and sit on a judicial bench but who among us is not called to judge over and repeatedly each day?  It is true, you and I would be hard-pressed to account for the many, many times each day we sit in judgment.

Oh, how we sit in judgment!

We judge people by how they dress, how they speak, by the cars they drive, the jobs they perform, and their political views; we judge people by their families, by the shuls they attend (or don’t attend!)  We judge by the length of their peyos, by the VAAD they adhere to, by the company they keep. 

The minutia of the criteria of our judgment is nearly endless!  Did they recognize me on the street?  Did they greet me warmly enough?  Did they defer to my standing in the world?  Was their, “Good Shabbos,” sincere? 

Do they wear a black yarmulke, knitted yarmulke, no yarmulke at all!? 

How dare we judge so relentlessly!  After all, we are not Judges…

Or are we?

We are most certainly judgmental.  Indeed, the Torah anticipates this human tendency that is rooted so deeply in our psyche.  The Torah seems to tell us, Yes, you will judge.  But if you judge, do not be judgmental before knowing the entire case.  Do not be corrupt.  Do not undermine justice in your rush to judgment.

The same principles that govern the Bais Din most certainly govern the kitchen table, the business boardroom, the classroom, the shul’s reception room, the Rosh Yeshiva’s office.  Be fair.  Be deliberate.  You are the judge.  This is certainly the teaching of Rav Yaakov Yosef of Polana who explained that when the Torah uses the singular l’cha in admonishing, shoftim titen l’cha – “judges shall you appoint,” it is to make clear that there should be only one standard by which we judge, one for others and one for myself.

The Sfat Emet takes this a step further by teaching that if only each of us “appoints” a judge (l’cha) - over ourselves to assess our own shortcomings we would most assuredly judge others more fairly and with more compassion. 

At the outset of Devarim – of Mishne Torah – Moshe conducts a “recap” of the great lessons he has taught the People.  In doing so, he shows every great teacher how to conduct a profound review of the material he has taught – by beginning with the lesson that serves to contextualize every other lesson.  How does Moshe begin?  By teaching the most basic lesson that exists to create a functional, meaningful and uplifting community – that judgment must be based on objective laws and that it must be administered fairly, without regard for standing.

It is a lesson that we, in our current historical moment, seem to have forgotten. 

Hillel taught, “Do not judge your friend until you have reached his place.”  However, if we were to truly understand that we can never reach another’s place, that we can never truly walk in another’s shoes, then we might understand that Hillel is really telling us, Don’t judge your fellow.  Ever.

There is only one who’s shoes we truly can walk in – our own.  Perhaps Hillel’s message is that we cannot judge others, but we can judge ourselves and our own standing.  So, if we truly want to help others, we should judge ourselves in a way that serves as a model to our fellows, causing them to reconsider their own behavior. 

We are judge and litigant, bringer of complaint and defender against such complaint.  Only when we understand that when we judge it is ourselves whom we are judging can we being to create a fair and wise world.