The story of the Tower Babel, which we read this month, is – like many stories in the Book of Beresheet – very well known. We are all familiar with the people’s idea to build a tower to the heavens and challenge the Almighty, and with the way Gd disrupted their scheme by causing them to speak different languages and thus lose the ability to collaborate with one another.
There is one detail of the story, though, which does not receive much attention, but is well worth our consideration – particularly during the times we are living through, when the Jewish Nation finds itself at war and continually targeted by false, malicious accusations.
“Coming Down” to See
The Torah tells that Gd “came down to see the city and the tower that the people built” (11:5). Already Rashi notes the peculiarity of the description of Gd “coming down” to observe the events here on earth. It goes without saying that Gd does not need to go anywhere to see anything; He is keenly aware of all events that occur at all times at all places in all of existence even before they happen. Certainly, He had no need to descend to the earth to see the tower.
Rashi explains, citing the Midrash: “He did not need this [to ‘come down’], but He wanted to teach judges not to convict the defendant until they have seen and understood [the matter].”
Gd here taught by example not to pass judgment flippantly, before definitively determining what happened. He, of course, had firsthand knowledge of the tower – but He wanted to teach human judges not to reach a conclusion before they thoroughly investigate and study the case.
Similarly, the Torah later (18:21) tells that Gd “came down” to see the sinfulness of Sedom, and Rashi there references his comments regarding the Tower of Babel, explaining that Gd set an example by “coming down” to directly observe Sedom’s crimes before condemning it to annihilation.
To show how far this principle extends, let’s fast-forward to the Book of Devarim, where we find, startlingly enough, how even the greatest of all men may have been ever so slightly too quick to judge.
The People’s Cries
The context is the upsetting story of Kivrot Hata’avah, when, during Beneh Yisrael’s journey through the desert, they felt discontented, and demanded a richer “menu.” Dissatisfied with their daily ration of miraculous manna, the people expressed their desire for vegetables and meat.
The Torah tells: “Moshe heard the nation crying with their families…and Gd was exceedingly incensed, and it was evil in Moshe’s eyes” (Bamidbar 11:10).
Upon reading this verse, we are immediately struck by its unusual structure and syntax. Rather than simply stating that both Gd and Moshe were disturbed by the people’s complaints, the Torah says that Gd was angry, and then adds, separately, that the complaints upset Moshe, too.
If we examine this verse carefully, we might propose a surprising and novel reading. The Torah at this point does not tell us that Gd was angry at Beneh Yisrael for complaining. It says, “Vayihar af Hashem me’od” – that He was very angry. This anger was not necessarily directed at the people. We might suggest that – astonishingly enough – it was directed at Moshe.
Moshe? What did he do wrong? How was he to blame for what was happening?
We discover the answer by looking carefully at the first part of this verse: “Moshe heard the nation crying…” Moshe did not hear the people complaining – he heard them crying, and he assumed that they were crying because they wanted a more varied diet.
And Gd was “exceedingly incensed” at Moshe for jumping to this conclusion, for determining what the people were crying about before verifying this.
This is truly astonishing. Just before, Moshe heard the people complaining, and this was hardly the first time they complained. Even so, he was not justified in his assumption regarding the reason for their crying.
Moreover, this assumption was 100 percent correct. The people were, in fact, crying because they wanted a variety of food. And even so – Moshe was wrong to prematurely make this assumption.
This is how far the Torah goes in demanding that we reserve judgment, and avoid reaching unfounded conclusions about other people’s wrongdoing. Even when we have very good reason to assume the worst, and even if it actually turns out to be the worst – we are held accountable for making an assumption that has yet to be conclusively substantiated.
Erecting a “Fence” Around Judgmentalism
Our sages expressed for us this concept in the very first Mishnah of Pirkeh Avot, which cites three teachings of the Ansheh Kenesset Hagedolah, the Men of the Great Assembly at the beginning of the Second Temple era. The first two are: hevu metunim badin – be patient and thorough in judgment, when presiding over a trial; and asu seyag laTorah – “erect a fence around the Torah.”
This second teaching is commonly understood as a reference to the enactment of safeguards, instituting restrictions that the Torah itself did not command, as a “fence” keeping us away from possible violations of Torah law.
There may, however, be an additional interpretation of this instruction, “asu seyag laTorah” – that it pertains to the previous instruction, to be slow and patient when judging. The great sages of the Ansheh Kenesset Ha’gedolah teach us to erect a “fence” around the obligation to reserve judgment. Not only must we avoid reaching conclusions before seeing the evidence –
but even after we see what happened, even when we have concrete knowledge about the event, even then we should hesitate before judging.
Just as we saw in the story of Kivrot Hata’avah, we are expected to reserve judgment even when we have good reason to assume the worst about somebody. We are to recognize the inherent potential within every person, the spark of holiness embedded in each soul, and to trust in all people’s capacity for goodness. So much so that even when we think we have reason to assume somebody did something wrong – we must still consider the possibility that they didn’t, that things aren’t the way they seem, that there are mitigating factors, that the person really didn’t act as badly as it appears.
An amusing example is a story I heard about a certain yeshiva in Israel. It came to the administrators’ attention that the students were often using the disposable coffee cups for water, instead of the less expensive plastic cups. Yeshivas are always very cost-conscious and looking for ways to save money, and so the Rosh Yeshiva wrote a strongly-worded letter demanding that the hot cups be used only for hot beverages, and that students who use these cups for water are guilty of stealing from the yeshiva. This letter was hung up in the room where the students came for drinks.
Sometime later, a student was seen reading the sign, and then taking a coffee cup, filling it with water, and drinking. He was harshly reprimanded for this clear violation of the yeshiva’s new rule.
He explained that he was planning to have a cup of coffee, but he wanted some water first. Rather than take a plastic cup for his water, and then a hot cup for the coffee, he decided it would be better to use the same cup for both.
The people who saw what this boy did were convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that he violated the rule. They assumed – for good reason – that they caught him red-handed. But they were wrong.
And this is true of so many of the assumptions we make about other people. We are so sure we know exactly what they did and exactly why they did it, and we cast judgment. But the truth is we know so little. Even when we have firsthand knowledge, we know nothing about the background to the incident, or about the background of the person who committed the act. There is so much about people that we don’t know – how can we judge based on the minuscule amount that we do know?
Let’s Not Do Our Enemies’ Job
This is one of the important areas for us to focus on during the extraordinary times we’re living in, when irrational Jew-hatred has reached levels that we had not before seen in our lifetime.
A ubiquitous feature of this alarming trend is the knee-jerk accusations against us. The moment that Hamas – a terror organization that preaches and glorifies murder, violence, torture and mayhem – puts out a statement alleging some Israeli crime, news outlets across the globe accept it and run banner headlines. The hysterical reports of widespread starvation in Gaza because of Israel’s war effort have largely been proven false. Early in the war, Hamas accused Israel of bombing a Gaza hospital, killing hundreds of patients – when in fact it was a misfired Palestinian rocket that struck the hospital’s parking lot, causing a small
number of casualties. Every Palestinian action against Israel is justified as self-defense, and every Israeli counterterrorism measure is condemned as aggression.
Our enemies are doing a “fine” job on their own jumping to conclusions, rushing to criticize and condemn, and thinking the worst about us. Our response to this trend must include a commitment to do just the opposite – to avoid judgment of our fellow Jews, to look favorably upon them, to think the best instead of the worst, to admire their goodness instead of searching for what’s wrong. Our foes across the world are already doing what they can to find fault in the Jewish Nation. We need to go to the opposite extreme, as far as we possibly can – focusing our attention on all that is good in other Jews, and refraining from judging and condemning.
The more we strive to judge our fellow Jews favorably, the more we will be judged favorably from Above, and earn the same love and affection from Hashem that we extend to others.