Avraham’s older son, Yishmael was a
troubled adolescent. The offspring of
his union with Hagar, princess of Egypt, his challenges were tolerable, as long
as no other young, impressionable children were present in the house. But then Yitzchak was born. The child Sarah and Avraham had longed for
all these decades arrived into their lives, and the future of the Hebrew people
would be changed forever.
Knowing that Yitzchak was the key
to the legacy of monotheism, Sarah did everything she could to shield him from
the idolatrous influences that surrounded them.
As she placed her head on her pillow each night, however, she realized
that, no matter how much she protected him from foreign forces outside the
house, the lingering issue was ever-present. Yishmael was a terrible influence on his
brother and he had to go.
Imagine the pain Avraham felt upon
being confronted by the love of his life, Sarah, and told that he must expel
his own flesh and blood from the home.
He was torn. He certainly was not
blind to the challenges facing the family on a daily basis. But to throw his child out on to the
street? How could he contemplate such an
act? He turned to the Almighty for
guidance and was told, “Everything Sarah says to you, hearken unto her voice.”
בָּעֵי רַב בִּיבִי בַּר
אַבָּיֵי: הִדְבִּיק פַּת בַּתַּנּוּר הִתִּירוּ לוֹ לִרְדּוֹתָהּ קוֹדֶם
שֶׁיָּבוֹא לִידֵי חִיּוּב חַטָּאת, אוֹ לֹא הִתִּירוּ? אֲמַר לֵיהּ רַב אַחָא
בַּר אַבָּיֵי לְרָבִינָא: הֵיכִי דָּמֵי? אִילֵּימָא בְּשׁוֹגֵג וְלָא אִידְּכַר
לֵיהּ, לְמַאן הִתִּירוּ? וְאֶלָּא לָאו דְּאִיהַדַּר וְאִידְּכַר, מִי
מִחַיַּיב?! וְהָתְנַן: כׇּל חַיָּיבֵי חֲטָאוֹת — אֵינָן חַיָּיבִין עַד
שֶׁתְּהֵא תְּחִלָּתָן שְׁגָגָה וְסוֹפָן שְׁגָגָה. אֶלָּא בְּמֵזִיד. ״קוֹדֶם
שֶׁיָּבֹא לִידֵי אִיסּוּר סְקִילָה״ מִיבְּעֵי לֵיהּ! אָמַר רַב שֵׁילָא:
לְעוֹלָם בְּשׁוֹגֵג, וּלְמַאן הִתִּירוּ — לַאֲחֵרִים. מַתְקִיף לַהּ רַב
שֵׁשֶׁת: וְכִי אוֹמְרִים לוֹ לָאָדָם ״חֲטָא כְּדֵי שֶׁיִּזְכֶּה חֲבֵירְךָ״
Rav Bibi bar Abaye asked: One who erred and stuck bread in the oven on
Shabbat, did they permit him to override a rabbinic prohibition and remove it
before it bakes, i.e., before he incurs liability to bring a sin-offering for
baking bread on Shabbat, or did they not permit? Rav Acḥa bar Abaye responded
to Ravina: What are the circumstances? If you say that he stuck the bread to
the oven unwittingly and did not remember either that today was Shabbat or that
it is prohibited to do so on Shabbat, to whom did they permit to remove it? If
he remains unaware that a prohibition is involved, it will not occur to him to
ask whether or not he is permitted to remove the bread before it bakes.
But rather, is it not a case where, before it baked, he remembered that it
is prohibited? In that case, is he liable to bring a sacrifice? Didn’t we learn:
All those who sin unwittingly and are therefore liable to bring sin-offerings
are only liable if the beginning of their action was unwitting and the end of their
action was unwitting. Rather, say that that person stuck the bread in the oven intentionally,
but afterward regretted his action. But
then it should have said: Before he comes to violate a capital prohibition (as
opposed to a sacrifice).
Rav Sheila said: Actually, it is referring to a case where he did so unwittingly. With regard to whom is the question of the
permissibility of removing the bread? It is with regard to other people. For if they were to commit the minor
misdemeanor of removal of the bread, they would spare him of the biblical
prohibition of inserting and removing. Rav Sheshes challenged this: Do we
ever tell one person: Sin so that another will benefit?
Rav Sheshes teaches that we never ask a person to commit a minor
misdemeanor in order to avoid their friend transgressing a major
prohibition. To simplify this principle
with a somewhat extreme example, let’s say your aged uncle is at home on
Shabbat. He says to you that he feels
like eating a meat sandwich. You open
the fridge and you see a packet of ham. You
suggest to him that he has a peanut butter sandwich, but he insists he wants a
meat sandwich.
You are now faced with a dilemma. Sure
enough, in our area, we have an eruv (permitting carrying), and we have a store
that is open 24-7 that sells kosher meat.
Should you offer to go to the store and buy some kosher salami? Doing so would transgress the rabbinic
injunction against buying and selling on Shabbat. But if you don’t go, he’ll transgress a
biblical prohibition of eating non-kosher, a much more serious violation.
What should you do? Should you do
the ‘little sin’ and save him from the ‘big sin’? That’s when the Gemara’s principle
is activated: We never ask a person to commit a minor misdemeanor in order to
avoid their friend’s major transgression. If he chooses to eat the ham, that is his
choice.
Think of it like this. Your soul is strong and robust. Acting contrary to the Divine weakens your
soul. Our Sages compare our connection to
Hashem to a rope binding us to our Heavenly source. Every ‘little’ misdemeanor causes a tiny
strand of the rope to come loose. Sure,
it won’t snap the rope, but it weakens it nonetheless. You must do your best to maintain the
strength of your spiritual connection. As
difficult as it might be for you to see your friend’s soul suffering, your own soul
shouldn’t be made to suffer on account of their spiritual choices.
The Torah is a guide to life. And our
relationship with Heaven mirrors our human relationships. Consequently, we must always be mindful of
how the Torah’s principles apply with regards to our interactions with our
fellow human beings. What role does Rav
Sheshes’s message play in our own lives?
Sometimes we allow ourselves to ‘sin’ in order to spare our loved ones. Believing that we’re saving someone else from
greater suffering, we subject ourselves to unfair suffering. You might be in a relationship with someone
who is treating you in an unacceptable manner.
You reason with yourself and say that they need you. If you were to leave them, who knows what might
happen to them. So you suffer in
silence, because you know that you’re the one standing between them and their
demons.
But the Gemara’s principle is that we never ask a person to commit to a
minor amount of spiritual or physical suffering in order to avoid their friend causing
themselves major harm. It’s no mitzvah
to remain in an abusive relationship. Maybe
you feel that you’re helping this individual.
But if it’s coming at the expense of your own mental health, it is not an
acceptable situation.
You may have convinced yourself that your lot in life is to be their savior,
but Hashem is not looking for martyrs. He wants your mind, body, and soul to be
strong and robust, and to achieve the very best. Staying in the relationship is causing harm
to you, and we never tell a person to accept minor suffering, even in the face
of another’s greater suffering.
Clearly, this principle applies to the spousal relationship. What might not be as obvious is that it
applies equally to other familial relationships, including those with our
siblings, children, and parents. While
we may not forsake our loved ones in their time of need, there is no mitzvah to
remain in an abusive relationship. So
how do we navigate relationships where we are suffering without forsaking our
loved ones?
Let’s consider the mitzvah to honour one’s parents. Sometimes, parents can be difficult to deal
with. They may have always been that way,
due to their nature or upbringing. Or, as
happens more frequently, the difficulties might have arisen with the challenges
of old age. With age, some people become
less patient. And it’s often not their
fault. In so many instances, they’re simply
no longer the masters of their words and actions, due to factors beyond their
control, such as the terrible affliction of dementia.
While you understand their challenges and don’t blame them for the way
their treating you, sometimes it can become too much to handle. As hard as it might be to call it abuse, if
your mental health is suffering on account of their awful treatment of you, you
need to maintain the self-awareness to determine when the relationship has become
intolerable.
Is it their fault? That’s not the
question. If, as a result of the
suffering they’re causing you, you are unable to function effectively in other
areas of your life, including other relationships in your life, you need to be
honest with yourself and ask yourself what is the best way to proceed for the
most positive way forward for everyone.
In the case of honouring parents, the Torah clearly states that we are
obligated to do so. However, not
everyone is aware of the practicalities of the duty. Our Sages explain that the mitzvah’s
parameters are to provide food, clothing, and shelter for your parent. Ideally, you should be there for them physically
to provide these necessities. But if you’re
finding the face-to-face interactions too much to bear, you may appoint a shliach
(agent) to act on your behalf. You are
still caring for them and fulfilling your personal and spiritual duty. Nevertheless, at the same time, you have
found a way to do the mitzvah and avoid harboring hurt and resentment.
Just like Avraham, sometimes in life, we're called upon to make difficult
decisions regarding our loved ones. Our Father in Heaven needs our minds,
bodies, and souls to operate at peak performance, without being unfairly
compromised by the spiritual challenges of others. May you
find ways to maximize your performance levels and the strength of those around
you!
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