One of the most famous verses in the Torah doesn’t actually exist.
We refer to the command that we read – sort of – this month: “You shall love your fellow as yourself,” or in Hebrew, “Ve’ahavta lere’acha kamocha.”
These three words do, in fact, appear in Parashat Kedoshim (Vayikra 19:18) – but the widespread belief that the Torah commands us “Love your fellow as yourself” is misleading.
The reason it is misleading is that the Torah adds two crucial words that most people omit when they make reference to this mitzvah: “Ani Hashem – I am Gd.”
We must assume that if Gd made a point of appending this proclamation – “Ani Hashem” – to the command to love one’s fellow, it did so because the belief in Gd is integrally linked to this mitzvah. The Torah does not merely command us to love our fellow as ourselves – it also tells us to believe that “I am Gd.”
It behooves us, then, to understand the precise meaning of this mitzvah. What is the connection between loving our fellow and faith in the Almighty?
The answer to this question brings us to the more famous question that has been asked about this command. How can the Torah possibly expect us to love others as much as ourselves? Are we really not supposed to care for ourselves and our own needs more than those of other people? Moreover, this command appears to obligate us to love all other people equally, at the same level. How can this be? Are we not to love our spouse and family members more than other people?
The People Who are “Like Us”
A brilliant understanding of this command was offered by Rav Haim Palachi (Turkey, 1788-1868), one of the great Sephardic luminaries in the 19th century. He explained this verse as a command to love one’s fellow who is “kamocha,” who is like him, who is involved in similar endeavors, and thus seems threatening.
It is easy for a baker to love the shoemaker. A person who imports electronics has nothing against the guy who imports clothing. The cardiologist feels neither threatened nor challenged by the orthopedist.
The Torah here commands us to feel and show love toward the person who is “kamocha,” who is like us, who is in the same field, the same business, the same social circle, the same portion of the shidduch world… The mitzvah to “love your fellow as yourself,” according to this understanding, does not tell us to love all people the way we love ourselves. Rather, it tells us not to look at our fellow as our competitor – even if he seems to be our competitor.
The way we do this, the Torah clarifies, is “Ani Hashem” – through genuine emunah, faith in Gd. When we believe in Gd, we realize that we have no competitors. Not one. Once we firmly believe that our livelihood ultimately depends on Gd, who has an infinite number of ways to provide us with our needs, we have no reason at all to feel threatened by people in the same industry. Even if a guy opens the same kind of store on the same block, this should not matter to us one iota. With emunah, we understand that this new store has zero impact on our livelihood, which in any event is determined solely by Hashem. Nobody in the world, regardless of how similar his enterprise is to ours, can affect Gd’s decision of how much money we should earn.
Creating Competition?
One of the exemplars of this kind of emunah was my legendary great uncle, the famous Isaac Shalom a”h. He was a very successful businessman, selling handkerchiefs, and was also exceptionally generous. He not only donated to many causes in the community, but also helped innumerable community members get started in their own businesses. Even more impressively – he helped people go into the handkerchief business. He created his own competition. On some occasions, he even gave people some merchandise to help them get started.
This goes against every rule of business. No business school on the planet would ever teach its students to actively create competing enterprises. The standard protocol is to run the business with ruthless, cut-throat competitiveness, doing everything one can to put competitors out of business and to discourage prospective competitors from trying.
When Isaac Shalom was asked why he did this, he replied, “My livelihood comes from Gd. What difference does it make to my livelihood if I help a fellow Jew get into the business?”
He fulfilled at the highest standard the Torah’s command to love one’s fellow “kamocha” – who is like him, and he did so by firmly understanding that “ani Hashem” – everything in the world is controlled by the Almighty.
When we live with emunah, there is no such thing as competition. Singles with emunah do not feel threatened by their peers looking into the same prospects as they are. People with emunah who are looking to buy a home do not feel threatened by other families in the market. Job-seekers with emunah do not feel threatened by others with similar resumes. Because with emunah, we realize that nobody other than Gd determines the outcome of our efforts.
Loving Our Fellow & Prayer
This idea perhaps enhances our understanding of a beautiful custom that was introduced by the Arizal. He taught that before one begins the shaharit prayer in the morning, he should make a formal declaration accepting upon himself the mitzvah of “Ve’ahavta lere’acha kamocha.”
We intuitively recognize the value of making this commitment each day, reinforcing one’s devotion to other people, but why is this done as an introduction to the daily prayer service? What connection is there between this mitzvah and tefillah (prayer)?
In light of what we have seen, the answer becomes quite clear. This mitzvah is all about emunah – and prayer is the ultimate expression of emunah. After all, what is prayer if not a clear statement that Gd is the address for all our needs and desires? As we put ourselves in the mindset of tefillah, and we focus on Gd’s unlimited, absolute control over everything in our lives – this is the ideal time to commit to loving our fellow, to recognize that we have no competitors, that we have no reason to feel threatened by, or resentful of, any other person.
This might also help explain another curious practice. Each month, toward the end of the recitation of birkat halebanah over the new moon, we turn to our fellow and extend a friendly greeting. Why would we do this? Why is the recitation of birkat halevanah a time for greetings?
The answer might be that as we look up to the sky and contemplate the vastness of the universe, the wonders of nature, we are overcome by a feeling of smallness, of helplessness and dependence. When we reflect on the wonders of astronomy, we reflect on Gd’s unlimited wisdom and power, and our emunah is reinforced. And so we capitalize on this feeling by reaching out to our fellow, free of any tension or ill-will that we might have previously felt toward him. Now that we clearly sense our total dependence on the Almighty, we no longer have any reason to resent any other person, since nobody besides Gd has any control over us.
Rabbi Shimon & Eliyahu
As we look ahead to the observance of Lag Ba’omer, and we reflect upon the remarkable story of Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai, this message comes into even greater focus. Rabbi Shimon and his son fled from the Romans, and needed to hide inside a cave. They had no sources of food or water. Miraculously, just outside the cave, a fountain began to flow, and a carob tree emerged. These sustained Rabbi Shimon and his son for 13 years, until it was safe for them to leave. There was nobody to feed them – but Gd saw to it that they would be provided for.
An earlier example of this miracle is the story of Eliyahu Hanavi, who lived alone during a period of drought. Gd sent ravens to bring him food and water to support him. The food and water they brought were taken from the palace of Ahav – the idol-worshipping king of Israel, who was Eliyahu’s fierce adversary. Nobody would have ever imagined that Ahav would support Eliyahu. But Gd has an infinite number of ways of bringing His will to fruition, and, ironically, Ahav ended up feeding the prophet whom he relentlessly pursued.
The period of sefirat ha’omer, when we mark the death of Rabbi Akiva’s students who were punished for failing to treat each other respectfully, is traditionally a time for increased focus on our interpersonal relations, for working no showing greater concern and greater respect to other people. The mitzvah of “Ve’ahavta lere’acha kamocha” teaches us that this process must be linked to emunah, to our belief in Hashem. So much anger, hostility, envy, resentment, and negative feelings can be completely erased through genuine faith in Hashem. The more we believe that no person can get in the way of Gd’s plan, that nobody can compete with us, the less reason we will have to feel jealous or resentful toward anyone. Just imagine what our community – and what the Jewish People – would look like if we all lived with this perspective, if we could all just overlook what wrongs may have been committed against us, if we would all accept everything as the manifestation of Gd’s will, so we can feel content and happy irrespective of what so-and-so did or didn’t do. We can start making this change right now by reaffirming our belief that “ani Hashem,” that Gd alone controls our lives, and there is thus no reason for competition or jealousy.