Parshas Va’eirah: The Art of Sympathy

"These are the heads of their fathers' houses: the sons of Reuben the first-born of Israel: Hanoch, and Pallu, Hezron, and Carmi. These are the families of Reuben...

And these are the names of the sons of Levi according to their generations: Gershon and Kohath, and Merari." -Exodus 6:14,16

Why does the verse note regarding Reuben's children," These are the heads of their fathers' houses", yet regarding Levi, the verse only mentions the names of his children without the introduction?

Rabbi Yeshaya Horowitz (1565 – 1630) better known as the Shelah Hakadosh, explains that Levi foresaw the exile and hardship which would begin in Egypt following his passing. He also knew that his tribe would be studying Torah and would not be subjected to slavery. Levi very much wanted to sympathize with the rest of Jewish peoples' suffering. He therefore gave his children names which symbolized the exile. The name Gershon reflects the fact that they were strangers (geirim) in a foreign land. Kohath reflects their weakened resolve, and the name Merari reflects the bitterness experienced by the rest of the Jewish people. The verse therefore launched directly into the names of Levi's children because the names themselves held so much significance that no titles were necessary.

Sympathizing with our fellow Jews is not merely a nice act. It is an obligation that traces its source to G-d himself. The original source of sharing your fellows’ burden is in last week’s Torah portion at the burning bush. G-d tells Moses that He will be present with the Jewish People together in Egypt and in future exiles as well, sharing in their suffering. The Mishnah (Avos 6:6) as well codifies the obligation to feel for our fellow man.

Showing empathy is a not an easy task. Expressing sympathy is a much harder task. Especially in our age of digital media which broadcasts the most horrific images of murder and devastation on a daily basis, it is especially easy to become desensitized and calloused by the global suffering and hardship. It behooves us all the more so to walk into our fellow man’s shoes, and to try to feel what he is feeling. We are taught that every Jewish soul is connected to make up one unified soul. Therefore every action that we perform directly affects every single Jew. (and non-Jew ~Talmud Yebamoth 63a) We are all a limb of the Jewish body.

The story which is used to drive this point home is that of a passenger on a ship who begins drilling a hole in his own cabin. Water begins flooding the ship, and people are banging on his door to stop. He yells back, what do mean, I am only drilling into my own cabin! Obviously his cabin will sink, but in the process he will take the whole ship down with him.

During World War I, the Chafetz Chaim was busy day and night helping to provide for those who were affected by the war. In the middle of the night, his wife awoke and found his bed empty. She searched the home, and lo and behold, he was sleeping on a hard wooden bench. She demanded an explanation. He explained that he simply couldn’t sleep on a comfortable mattress when his fellow Jews were suffering on the front lines, and were suffering terribly from the devastation caused by the war.

Rabbi Chaim Soloveitchik (1853- 1918) is widely known in yeshivah circles for his analytical method of Talmudic study. In his town of Brisk however, he was overly beloved for his extraordinary kindness. In 1895, a fire ravaged a large part of Brisk. Many people were left homeless and penniless. For weeks after the fire, Reb Chaim, as he is known, slept on the floor in the synagogue building without even a pillow. Despite countless pleas from the townspeople for him to return home, he refused. He said that it impossible for him to sleep in the luxury of his own home, when so many other people have no roof over their heads.

It is not easy to reach the level of the Chafetz Chaim or Reb Chaim, but we must want to reach that level. People are suffering today. Be it the families that were left orphaned and widowed by the Mumbai Massacre, the wounded Israeli soldiers and the families of those killed, the untold amount of people stricken with illness, and all those affected by the economic crisis. We must learn from G-d and feel for our fellow Jews. All told, that is just one part of the equation. The hardest aspect of sympathy is feeling good for somebody when they have a joyous event. It is no problem to attend a funeral, but the pangs of jealousy inevitably creep up when somebody buys a new car or house, or has a happy occasion in the family. We are all a part of the same body. We must feel for each other just as the right arm feels for the left arm! There is no you and me (in this regard), we are all one soul.

Practically speaking, how do we learn the art of sympathy? We must work on loving every single Jew. The best way to do this is by performing acts of kindness for each other. By giving to somebody, you become much closer to them, and love them. (That’s why parents love their children far more than children love their parents) Purim should not be the only time we give presents to each other, and the Pesach Seder should not be the only time of the year that we say “all who are needy come and join us!” Let us seek opportunities of chesed, and we will all become a much happier, healthier family preparing for the final redemption speedily in our times. Amen.