Before You Judge Others: A Powerful Lesson From Rabbi Aryeh Levin

“I’m curious to know why you acquitted the defendant in such a clear cut case,” the judge asks the jury.

The jury foreman replies, “Temporary insanity, Your Honor.”

The judge raises an eyebrow in surprise. “What, all of you?!”

What Does It Mean to Judge Righteously?

“Judges and officers you shall appoint for yourself in all your gates,” the Torah commands in this week’s portion. The judges are the rabbinical adjudicators, as Rashi explains: “And they shall judge the people with righteous judgment.”

This warning seems somewhat puzzling. Could someone who does not judge fairly be appointed as a judge?

Rabbeinu Avraham Ibn Ezra explains, however, that this warning is directed at the judges themselves: When you judge, judge the people fairly.

But what does this warning have to do with those of us who are not judges?

Many of Jerusalem’s finest residents were outraged. A grocery store owner in one of the city’s neighborhoods dared to keep his store open on Friday night and throughout Shabbat. Public desecration of Shabbat was a rare sight in those days.

The Jerusalemites of that era did not sit idly by. They came to protest against the shopkeeper who was violating the sanctity of Shabbat. But the grocery store owner refused to listen. His register brought in substantial profits on Shabbat, and he found it difficult to give them up. The shopkeeper was not weak willed. He was not afraid of threats, was not persuaded by explanations, and listened only to the sound of coins ringing in his cash register.

Rabbi Aryeh Levin’s Different Approach

One Friday afternoon, early in the day, a distinguished elderly Jew entered the store. Every child in Jerusalem knew him well, and even residents who did not observe Torah and mitzvot held a warm and affectionate place for him in their hearts. It was impossible not to love him: the righteous genius Rabbi Aryeh Levin, known as the rabbi of the prisoners, who cared for every Jew, whoever they were, with the same love and devotion.

Rabbi Aryeh entered the grocery store and sat on a chair in a somewhat distant corner, facing the register, where the shopkeeper stood serving customers. It was still relatively early, and some customers were even buying their final provisions for the Shabbat Queen. Slowly, the sun’s rays tilted toward the western horizon, and Rabbi Aryeh continued sitting there, watching the shopkeeper.

At first, the shopkeeper assumed that Rabbi Aryeh had grown tired and had entered his store to rest from the exertion of the road. But after two hours, he realized that something unusual was happening. He approached Rabbi Aryeh and asked, “Can I help the rabbi with something?”

Rabbi Aryeh looked at him with his kind eyes and burst into bitter tears.

“Dear Jew, I do not need any help. But I heard that you open your store on Shabbat, and I wanted to understand why you do it. Now I have been sitting in your store for two hours, and I see that the income is very substantial.

“I understand your heart and why it is difficult for you to give up the temptation of so much money. But what can I do, my son,” Rabbi Aryeh sobbed, warmly clasping the shopkeeper’s hand. “It is Shabbat, and we must keep it.”

The shopkeeper was shaken and declared, “Rabbi, many people tried to convince me to close the store. Not one of them came to experience and understand how great the challenge was, except for you. I promise you that from this Shabbat onward, the store will be closed.”

Before Judging Another Jew

Chazal taught us, “A judge has only what his eyes see.” By way of allusion, it seems we can say that every Jew serves as a judge when rebuking another person or pointing something out to them.

The Torah warns every Jew, “And they shall judge the people.” When you criticize someone’s actions, do not be satisfied with only what your eyes see. Try to feel what they are feeling, to understand the depth of their situation, and to see what lies beyond the simple act. Then it will truly be “righteous judgment.”

In the holy book Resisei Laylah, Rabbi Tzadok HaKohen of Lublin explains a wonderful idea. This is the essence of his words:

On Rosh Hashanah, a person is judged. At the moment of judgment, the view is dry and straightforward: How many mitzvot? How many transgressions? Naturally, the person’s standing may not look very good.

The sounding of the shofar arouses Hashem to sit on the Throne of Mercy. How so?

The shofar awakens the heart to teshuvah. During a person’s thoughts of teshuvah, Hashem sets aside the outward action. He “brings a chair” of mercy and sits to see how difficult the test was for that Jew. In this way, He transforms their judgment into merit.

Preparing for the Day of Judgment

In Elul, everyone can prepare for the Day of Judgment by trying not to “judge” another person before trying to “see” that person’s difficulty. After all, a case that seems like unmistakable guilt to one person may look to another like an exemption due to temporary insanity.

This effort will awaken a measure for measure response for a person. On the Day of Judgment, they too will be seen in light of their circumstances and how they can be judged favorably.