Seeing the Best in Others
Posted by Rabbi Avi Heller on November 26, 2010 | Tags: Vayeshev
I once went on a Rabbinic interview weekend that taught me an important lesson. Rabbinic interviews - sometimes called "probas"-- are grueling and intense experiences. I was scheduled to speak seven times, to eat meals with members of the congregation and to answer questions about everything from my halachic position on organ donation to how I would counsel a 70 year old widower to what role my wife would play in the life of the congregation. All this while under a microscope of scrutiny. Anyone who has ever done one can easily have empathy for public figures - from movie stars to the Obamas - who live with this scrutiny on a larger scale every day. Every word and gesture was observed.
I don't mean to cast aspersions on the intentions of this congregation. Choosing a Rav is an important shidduch, a mission-critical decision for a community. They needed someone who could meet the needs of their community, which was made up of many different kinds of people and needs. If they chose well, they could have one rabbi leading the community for 25 or 50 years. Consequently, they felt very strongly about it. Unfortunately, those emotions led them to act overzealously.
On this proba, I thought that I was well-prepared, articulate, thoughtful and kind. I didn't think it was a slam-dunk, per se, but I felt strongly positive about what I had done and about all the people I had met. So, when I got a short rejection via email (!) the very next day (!), I knew that something was deeply wrong. They had dropped me like a hot potato, quickly leaping to the conclusion that I was decidedly NOT what they were looking for in a rabbi. I, however, was beside myself, wracked with guilt and dread. What could I possibly have done to make these nice people basically HATE me?
After some research and a painful conversation with one of the search committee members, it became clear that there were crossed lines of communication and that we had starkly different views of what had happened over that Shabbat. Where I saw kindness, care and concern, they saw arrogance, unconcern and aloofness. How did this happen?!
The truth is that the search committee had divined (from external information, not from me) that they were not my top choice, that they were like my third or fourth option. No one wants to be the "safety" choice, the back-up date. They had already decided not to like me before I ever arrived and, in fact, were poised to reject me before I could reject them. I want to stress that I bear them no ill will. They had not intentionally set me up to take a plane, spend a weekend under the microscope in an unfamiliar place and, basically, humiliate me. But subconsciously, they saw everything I did in the worst possible way. I never had a chance[1].
The Tosefet Bracha (written by R. Baruch ha-Levi Epstein, 19th c. Europe, author of the Tora Temima) observes a similar phenomenon among the brothers of Yosef. As we all know, the brothers were deeply jealous of Yosef and the attentions he received from Ya'akov. They were angry at their father for favoring him, angry at Yosef for accepting it and deeply fearful of what would happen to them, the "unloved" brothers. The Torah says they "hated" him and then it says "vl'o yachlu dabro l'shalom", they could not speak a peaceable word to him, or possibly, about him.
R. Epstein interprets this to mean that, even when he spoke words of shalom to them, i.e. made peaceful overtures and tried to heal the rifts of jealousy and enmity, they STILL interpreted those in a bad way; it added to their dislike of him. The fact that they were predisposed to dislike him (because of their jealousy) made them see the worst in him, even when he was doing his best to make nice.
This is a phenomenon that is deeply troubling to me. Sometimes, no matter what you do, it will be misinterpreted and distorted. I see this as a real problem in American political discourse, where it is often not important whether you agree or disagree with a candidate, or whether or not they have good intentions, but whether or not they are in your party. If they are in the opposition, some interpret everything they say in the worst possible way. We may do this in our personal lives as well, writing off people we don't like and seeing everything they do as confirming our initial prejudices, rather than giving them another chance. Our minds become closed to new interpretations of people. Though we may believe in our own ability to change, we (subconsciously) do not extend that kind option to others.
Now, this can happen to the good as well. I have had had the opposite experience, where I went to a community that expected me to be an amazing rabbi and, because of their predisposition, they saw everything I did (even the mistakes) as genius. When I was a teenager, I had the habit of staying up too late and I would often fall asleep during davening in the morning. (I used to go with my father to a 6:30 am morning service, so it was quite early.) Once, a man who was a new ba'al teshuva (had recently reconnected to his Judaism) came over to me and asked how he could achieve the kind of intense spiritual serenity he saw in my davening. I was falling asleep, but he saw in me (a 16 year old waking up early to daven) a very spiritual person and thought I was meditating with the angels. He interpreted my actions far more charitably than I deserved
There is actually a Jewish solution to this problem, of being damned in the courtroom of the mind. It is a formula mentioned in Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers 1:6) as "hevei dan et kol adam l'chaf z'chut", "judge every person on the scale of merit". In other words, if there is room to decide whether or not to add it to the scale of their plusses or the scale of their minuses, add it to their plusses. Interpret it to their benefit. If you put too much on their demerit side, the scale will tip and you will never be able to see the good in them. You have power - in your own mind - to give the benefit of the doubt. It is a huge mistake to see the worst in people. Not only does it make us cynical, but it also has other effects on us and others. By writing off people uncharitably, we might be passing up a good friend or trustworthy colleague, not because there's some thing wrong with them, but because we are too close-minded to see it. Also, we might hurt someone else, trying so hard to be good and crushed by our unwillingness or inability to see it and receive it.
The brothers learned the hard way that Yosef was not always trying to be a spoiled and favorite son. He wanted to have a peaceful relationship with his brothers. Because they couldn't see that - were too predisposed to see only the bad - they made decisions that hurt themselves and others and took over 20 years to resolve. In the end, they were the ones that had to be humiliated, because they had insisted on humiliating Yosef. Re-setting our emotions so that we can judge others favorably is the best thing for everyone. Shabbat shalom!
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[1] Of course, it is a little painful to write about this and, surely, I am not entirely blameless. But I do feel that I was open to revising my opinion of the community, that even though, going in, they were not my top choice, the reason for going was to see whether or not they should be.
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Rabbi Avi HellerJoined: July 27, 2007 Originally from Denver CO, Rav Avi received a BA from BU and Rabbinic ordination and an MA in Bible from YU. Before joining MJE, he was Director of Jewish Education at BU Hillel, co-directed the BU Jewish Learning Initiative on Campus and was an Associate University Chaplain. He has been the... Divrei Torah (67) |
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