I recall a conversation I once heard when I was a resident of a dormitory. One fellow tossed a wrapper onto the floor, whereupon his friend chastised him about the unsanitary conditions of his room. The fellow responded, “Look who’s talking! Your room is just as messy.” The reply was, “Yes, my room is just as messy; however, I don’t throw wrappers straight onto the floor. I just put them down somewhere, and they somehow make their way to the floor!”
Messy dorm rooms are always a source of consternation for the school’s administration. There was an out-of-town yeshiva dormitory where high-school students and post-high-school students shared rooms. There were occasional spot checks of the rooms to make sure they were kept in a somewhat tidy fashion. One particular room, however, was a disaster zone— squared. The rebbeim assumed that the high-school student was the source of the clutter. One day after Shacharis, a rebbi called this high-school bachur over and informed him that he would not be admitted to class until his room was habitable. He was obviously somewhat embarrassed. He later confided to me that the source of the colossal disarray was actually his older roommate. However, to save his friend any humiliation, he accepted responsibility for the untidiness and didn’t profess his innocence.
How far must an individual go to prevent shaming his fellow Jew? The Gemara (Rosh Hashanah 26b) relates the following episode: Levi (the amora) visited a certain locality. Recognizing Levi as a rabbi, a distressed person approached him and said, “So-and-so was ‘kava’ me.” Levi had no idea what the man was intending to say, so he went to the beis midrash and asked if anyone knows what “kava” means. The students there told him that “kava” means “to steal.” They explained further that the source of the obscure word is a verse in Malachi.
The reason Levi refrained from asking the man to explain himself was Levi’s suspicion that the man was referring to illicit relations, and he did not want to hear the sordid details. As it turns out, the man was just saying that “so-and-so robbed me.” So why didn’t he say this clearly, instead of using a cryptic word? The Sifsei Chachamim answers that there were other people nearby, and he did not want to embarrass the thief. He needed assistance, but there was no need to publicize that the individual was a burglar. He therefore spoke in a riddle hoping that the rabbi would understand his intended meaning.
A person’s natural tendency is to do anything to exact revenge on someone who violates his property. However, that is not the Torah way. A measured response is what is called for. Granted, some circumstances warrant a proclamation so that other individuals may protect themselves from the perpetrator. However, each situation requires an individual analysis to determine the appropriate response; a wholesale embarrassment of sinners is unwarranted.
We find an even greater example of this in the Torah (Bamidbar 22). Bilam HaRasha was on his way to curse the Jewish nation; his goal was the total annihilation of the Jewish people. But Hashem sent an angel to obstruct Bilam’s path. While Bilam was not able to see the angel, his donkey saw him clearly. The donkey halted, and Bilam struck it repeatedly to coerce it to continue. The donkey miraculously spoke, rebuking Bilam for the beating. The donkey’s censure remained unanswered.
What a fine specimen this donkey would make for a public presentation! Throngs of people would come to see the ogre and his talking donkey. However, the world never got the chance: the donkey expired immediately following this episode. (The only talking donkeys nowadays are of the animated variety.) Rashi explains that the survival of the donkey would be too great a blow to Bilam’s dignity. People would point to the donkey and say, “This is the donkey that silenced Bilam.” Bilam obviously deserved severe retribution (and eventually received it). Nevertheless, Hashem judged that any additional embarrassment for Bilam was unwarranted, even though Bilam was the personification of evil (see Derech Hashem). If that is the treatment afforded a wicked man, then how much more careful we must be with our conduct towards our friends and family to prevent their embarrassment!
Someone once drove Rabbi Moshe Feinstein (1895–1991), zt’l, from home to yeshiva. As Rabbi Feinstein was leaving the car, the driver accidentally closed the door on his fingers. Despite his great pain, Rabbi Feinstein did not emit a sound, and he calmly proceeded to the door of his yeshiva. Some of his students who had witnessed this rushed over to assist their teacher, who was obviously suffering. One of them asked Rabbi Feinstein why he did not say anything to the driver. “He was kind enough to drive me to the yeshiva. How could I embarrass him?” he replied (Bastion of Faith).
Sometimes parents think that their words are not understood by their children. I was once sitting at a family meal when a parent began to describe what happened when he took his six-year-old son to the voting booth. He said that his child was looking for his father’s name on the ballot. The child was obviously distressed by the retelling of the incident, and said, “Abba, please don’t say that story.”
A person can say something inconsiderate without even realizing it. I recall attending a vort where a friend of the kallah’s father spoke. He began his speech by saying, “I was looking for something good to say about the kallah that is also true...” (Implication: There’s not much to say!)
While it is usually inappropriate to speak of other individual’s shortcomings and publicize them, there are specific circumstances where it is permitted. In some scenarios, the Chofetz Chaim permits the public ridicule of an unrepentant sinner so that others don’t follow his ways (see Sefer Chofetz Chaim in detail for all the necessary conditions).
As we are taught in the Chumash, Yehudah said to the viceroy (Yosef), “kamocha kePhar’oh—you are like Pharaoh” (Bereishis 44:18). What was the meaning of this enigmatic statement? Rashi offers various interpretations. The first one is complimentary: You are as important in my eyes as Pharaoh. The second explanation is: You will get tzara’as for taking Binyamin, just as Pharaoh was punished with tzara’as for taking Sarah. Rashi’s third p’shat is: You are similar to Pharaoh—just as Pharaoh makes decrees and does not fulfill them [Pharaoh decreed that a former slave can’t be appointed to an official position, and yet he appointed you—an ex-slave]; so, too, you don’t keep your word. You said you just wanted to see Binyamin—is this what you call “seeing”? [You are in effect kidnapping him!]
In Rashi’s first two interpretations, Pharaoh’s mention serves a vital role in Yehudah’s statement: either Pharaoh is a source of admiration to which the viceroy can be compared, or he is an example of a person who received a severe punishment for behavior similar to that of the viceroy. The commentators are puzzled, however, at the necessity of mentioning Pharaoh according to Rashi’s third interpretation. If Yehudah wanted to call the viceroy a liar, why didn’t he just state that clearly, instead of comparing him to another liar?
My chavrusah, Yisrael Aryeh (Johnny) Chames, offered a possible answer: Apparently, the notion that Pharaoh was a liar was widespread. People knew about Pharaoh’s decree forbidding an ex-slave from being appointed to a position of authority, and they knew about the amazing rags-to-riches story of the viceroy’s appointment by Pharaoh. Even Yehudah—who was from a different country—knew all about it. The generally accepted perception of Pharaoh was that of an individual who does not keep his word.
Yehudah wanted to give the viceroy a vivid illustration of where his actions would lead him. He was telling him that it’s not just a matter of saying an untruth; rather, his actions would change how he is perceived in the eyes of the people. He was asking him if he really wanted to be known by the populace as a dishonest man, just like Pharaoh.
Sometimes a real-life example can have a greater effect than any speech a person can make. Accordingly, there are times when mention may be made of a person’s negative behavior to ensure that other people don’t follow suit. Nonetheless, these halachos are complex and one should seek guidance from his rav.
To those two dormitory students I publicly embarrassed at the beginning of this article: I was just trying to teach people, by your example, to be tidy.
Maggid shiur and Rebbe at Yeshiva Ateres Shimon in Far Rockaway. He leads the Daf Yomi chaburah at Eitz Chayim of Dogwood Park in West Hempstead, and writes “Delving into the Daf” each week for The Jewish Home.
