As we go about our daily affairs observing and interacting with our family, friends, acquaintances, and business associates, we are subconsciously (and sometimes consciously!) making judgments about others, either negatively or positively. Every interaction is entered into our mental computer. We can become inclined to judge people negatively. However, the Torah requires that we judge almost everyone positively (except someone with a known reputation for being “evil”). A positive attitude toward others can redefine the entire context of our lives and revolutionize all of our personal relationships.
This class will address the following questions:
- Why should I judge others positively? Isn’t it better not to judge others at all?
- Must I be naïve and always give the benefit of the doubt?
- How can I judge someone negatively, maybe his upbringing and life circumstances forced him to act the way he did?
- How does judging positively affect one’s mindset in general?
Class Outline
Section I. The Mitzvah to Give Others the Benefit of the Doubt
Part A. Loving Others and Judging Them Positively are Mutually Dependent
Section II. The Reputation of the Individual Matters
Part A. Overview
Part B. Judge the Actions, Not the Person
Part C. Why Judge at All?
Section III. The Benefits of Judging Others Positively
Part A. Peace and Harmony
Part B. How We Judge Others Determines How God Relates to Us
Part C. Seeing the Positive in Others is a Way to Emulate God
Section I. The Mitzvah to Give Others the Benefit of the Doubt
Part A. Loving Others and Judging Them Positively are Mutually Dependent
Section II. The Reputation of the Individual Matters
Part A. Overview
Part B. Judge the Actions, Not the Person
Part C. Why Judge at All?
Section III. The Benefits of Judging Others Positively
Part A. Peace and Harmony
Part B. How We Judge Others Determines How God Relates to Us
Part C. Seeing the Positive in Others is a Way to Emulate God
Section I. The Mitzvah to Give Others the Benefit of the Doubt
As an introduction to the topic, consider the following story.
In the Feingold home in Ashdod, Israel, mixed emotions reigned. There was great joy because the eldest daughter had just become engaged, yet at the same time the parents were worried because there was little money to pay for both the upcoming wedding and for their share of the cost of an apartment for the new couple.
Mr. Feingold traveled throughout Israel and the United States to raise money for his daughter’s wedding. In addition, because his neighbors and friends understood the difficult situation, they too began to raise money for the family.
Finally, the night of the wedding arrived. But when guests who had contributed to the wedding walked in to the hotel’s largest ballroom they were quite surprised. The room was decorated with opulent magnificence, including elegant floral arrangements, and a seven-piece band was playing as the first of six courses was served.
Was this what people had raised money for? And had the rabbis not recently spoken out against ostentatious weddings, encouraging people not to make lavish affairs because it might compel others of more modest means to imitate or duplicate them? And here the Feingolds had used so much money, including other people’s money, for one night, when the bride and groom needed to buy an apartment! The people who had been invited left the hall dismayed and displeased.
A few days later, Mr. Feingold, who sensed the resentment in his guests, broached the topic with the rabbi of his community, Rabbi Elya Weiss, and explained what had happened. “When I first came to discuss prices and fix a date, the wedding hall owner asked me, ‘Do you by any chance have Feingold relatives in Germany?’ When I told him that Leo Feingold was my late father, tears welled up in his eyes. He exclaimed, ‘I am alive today only because of your father! He hid my family and me and saved us from the Nazis. My whole family owes their lives to your father!’
“Mr. Feingold explained how he had always wanted to meet his saviors to pay them back in some small way, but he had lost contact with them after the war. He insisted that he would make us a beautiful wedding,” continued Mr. Feingold, “and even though we tried to talk him out of it, he felt it was his way of showing gratitude.
“When we came to the wedding hall that night, we were as shocked as anyone else. I couldn’t say anything to anyone because our benefactor had asked that his present remain a secret. However, when I saw the reactions of the guests, I went to him to get permission to reveal the truth. I now ask of you, Rabbi Weiss, please let everyone know the truth.”
The next morning in shul, Rabbi Weiss told the whole story to his congregation.
Once again the people were surprised, but this time at themselves. All those who had spoken negatively suddenly realized that in reality they had not known all the facts – even though at the time, they were sure they had! (Adapted from Rabbi Paysach Krohn, Around the Maggid’s Table, pp. 164-167.)
How many times does something like this happen to us? If only the wedding guests had paused to think, and judge positively. They knew Mr. Feingold and his family well. He had a long history of upstanding and moral behavior in their community. So why did they jump to a swift and superficial conclusion about the lavish wedding?
As an introduction to the topic, consider the following story.
In the Feingold home in Ashdod, Israel, mixed emotions reigned. There was great joy because the eldest daughter had just become engaged, yet at the same time the parents were worried because there was little money to pay for both the upcoming wedding and for their share of the cost of an apartment for the new couple.
Mr. Feingold traveled throughout Israel and the United States to raise money for his daughter’s wedding. In addition, because his neighbors and friends understood the difficult situation, they too began to raise money for the family.
Finally, the night of the wedding arrived. But when guests who had contributed to the wedding walked in to the hotel’s largest ballroom they were quite surprised. The room was decorated with opulent magnificence, including elegant floral arrangements, and a seven-piece band was playing as the first of six courses was served.
Was this what people had raised money for? And had the rabbis not recently spoken out against ostentatious weddings, encouraging people not to make lavish affairs because it might compel others of more modest means to imitate or duplicate them? And here the Feingolds had used so much money, including other people’s money, for one night, when the bride and groom needed to buy an apartment! The people who had been invited left the hall dismayed and displeased.
A few days later, Mr. Feingold, who sensed the resentment in his guests, broached the topic with the rabbi of his community, Rabbi Elya Weiss, and explained what had happened. “When I first came to discuss prices and fix a date, the wedding hall owner asked me, ‘Do you by any chance have Feingold relatives in Germany?’ When I told him that Leo Feingold was my late father, tears welled up in his eyes. He exclaimed, ‘I am alive today only because of your father! He hid my family and me and saved us from the Nazis. My whole family owes their lives to your father!’
“Mr. Feingold explained how he had always wanted to meet his saviors to pay them back in some small way, but he had lost contact with them after the war. He insisted that he would make us a beautiful wedding,” continued Mr. Feingold, “and even though we tried to talk him out of it, he felt it was his way of showing gratitude.
“When we came to the wedding hall that night, we were as shocked as anyone else. I couldn’t say anything to anyone because our benefactor had asked that his present remain a secret. However, when I saw the reactions of the guests, I went to him to get permission to reveal the truth. I now ask of you, Rabbi Weiss, please let everyone know the truth.”
The next morning in shul, Rabbi Weiss told the whole story to his congregation.
Once again the people were surprised, but this time at themselves. All those who had spoken negatively suddenly realized that in reality they had not known all the facts – even though at the time, they were sure they had! (Adapted from Rabbi Paysach Krohn, Around the Maggid’s Table, pp. 164-167.)
How many times does something like this happen to us? If only the wedding guests had paused to think, and judge positively. They knew Mr. Feingold and his family well. He had a long history of upstanding and moral behavior in their community. So why did they jump to a swift and superficial conclusion about the lavish wedding?
(טו) לֹא־תַעֲשׂ֥וּ עָ֙וֶל֙ בַּמִּשְׁפָּ֔ט לֹא־תִשָּׂ֣א פְנֵי־דָ֔ל וְלֹ֥א תֶהְדַּ֖ר פְּנֵ֣י גָד֑וֹל בְּצֶ֖דֶק תִּשְׁפֹּ֥ט עֲמִיתֶֽךָ׃
(15) You shall not render an unfair decision: do not favor the poor or show deference to the rich; judge your kinsman fairly.
What exactly is meant by the phrase “judging righteously”? The Talmud explains in the next source.
בצדק תשפוט עמיתך הוי דן את חבירך לכף זכות
It is derived from the verse: “But in righteousness shall you judge your colleague,” that you should judge another favorably, and seek to find justification for his actions, even if when interpreted differently his actions could be judged unfavorably.