With Heart in Mind

Taking joy in judgments means seeking exposure and fame through the service of God.

THIS METHOD of personal transformation might seem to apply specifically to judges and rabbis, whose job it is to hand down legal rulings. It certainly does apply to them, but the Talmud teaches that anyone who measures something is a judge,¹ and so we are all judges, in one sense or another. Rabbi Yisrael Salanter explains that words directed at those who preside in courts also apply to every one of us, because we all render all kinds of decisions every day.

Our teaching says we are not to delight in handing down judgments. We are cautioned not to enjoy the exercise of power that is implicit in decision making, because that pleasure can corrupt our judgment. We can end up deciding matters according to our enjoyment, rather than what is best or right.

To issue a legal ruling is a huge responsibility. Many great rabbis let it be known that they were terrified of ruling on matters of Jewish law. The Talmud defines the stakes in a graphic image when it says, “A judge should always view himself as if he had a sword resting between his thighs and Gehinom gapes open below him.”² If the judge’s ruling veers by any degree to the right or the left, there could be dire consequences.

I was once called upon to give an opinion on an issue of Jewish law in which I had some expertise. Orthodox Jewish women wear wigs, and a major source of hair for those wigs is Hindu temples in India, where women often have their heads shaved in preparation for offering worship. It is contrary to Jewish law to take any kind of benefit from idol worship, and here we have a situation in which the wigs might just represent that sort of benefit. It was certainly on the minds of the beit din (rabbinic court) in Jerusalem that contacted me, and then on my own mind, as well, that the price of a human hair wig ranges from around $500 to $4,000 and a typical Orthodox woman owns several. A negative ruling would result in thousands of dollars of wigs being thrown out, and businesses disposing of tens of thousands of dollars in inventory. Although that consequence should not have swayed me in providing my understanding of the facts in the issue, nor the beit din in making its ruling, knowing what’s at stake causes the heart to weigh the matter seriously, taking no pleasure at all in the responsibility.³

A rabbinic court is mandated to rule according to the dictates of Torah law. Its decisions are referred to as hora’ah, which literally means “teaching.” This is the root of the word Torah itself. The judges’ rulings are, therefore, effectively cast as teaching Torah. Tradition sees contemporary Torah rulings not as innovation but as revealing that which already exists in the Torah but has not yet been uncovered, or “drawn down.”

This helps us to appreciate the trepidation over handing down rulings. A judge’s decisions are tantamount to writing Torah. How could a judge take lightly or enjoy such a weighty responsibility?

Since a judge’s rulings are Torah, nothing in the judgment belongs to or derives from the judge as an individual. The delight we are warned against relates to any feelings of authorship or power one who makes decisions might feel. Those feelings are an indicator that the person is taking too much personal credit and ignoring or minimizing the underlying sources for his or her judgments. If we find ourselves deriving joy from the process of making decisions, especially those of consequence that may have an impact on ourselves and the lives of others, there is a real possibility that the focus has come to fall too much on “me” rather than on the righteousness that ought to be sought in that decision.

The Talmud tells us, “Every judge who judges with complete fairness, even for a single hour, tradition gives that judge credit as though he had become a partner with the Holy Blessed One in the creation of the universe.”⁴ This teaching provides an important awakening about the impact of our decisions. Every decision we make gives rise to a new situation in the world. If I choose tuna over salmon, tuna becomes a reality and salmon remains an idea in potential. If I speak truth in a situation, there is more truth in the world than had I opted to bolster the side of falsehood. Like that, every decision I make is a contribution to creating the world I live in going forward.

Rav Kook cautions the judge that “defective character traits together with a failure to feel privileged in his public work will cloud his sense of propriety and justice. Instead of values based on an inner sense of justice, his value system becomes relegated to superficial honors.”⁵ This hearkens back to the quote from the Midrash Shmuel at the head of this chapter that equates taking joy in making judgments with seeking fame. Rav Kook is actually making a play on words from the Hebrew, relating the word hora’ah (teaching, or judgment) to l’har’ot, which means to show something or to expose.

The positive things we do are precious not because anybody knows about them, but because they reflect and reveal something true and good. Things done to win recognition are not satisfying, because when the applause dies down, the gnawing emptiness returns. Acting from integrity for the sake of goodness itself is intrinsically satisfying, and that satisfaction lasts. Only such an attitude opens the way for us to connect with our own souls and with God.

Indeed, seeking popularity through the decisions we make could be equated to taking a bribe, since we are motivated more by the reward we’ll gain than by concern for the decision itself; and the Torah warns that one who judges must not take bribes.⁶ This teaching alerts us to the ways in which our decision making may become biased if it is motivated by anything other than the search for truth, justice, and holiness.

A person who looks within and sees that he or she is drawing enjoyment from sitting in judgment needs to face the fact that his or her spiritual curriculum is making an appearance, and it may be influencing, if not outright corrupting, the decisions being made.

When the exercise of power and wisdom becomes pleasurable, rather than a weighty responsibility, when it is more about serving us than serving God (whose name is Truth), we will inevitably be drawn away from the wise decision making we seek. Truthful, unbiased judgment is an essential element of the transformation that is called acquiring Torah.

PRACTICE

Visualize that you have a razor-sharp sword suspended between your legs. One wrong move to any degree will be very damaging. Spend a few moments holding that image vividly in mind. You might even stand up and walk a few steps with the mental image of the sword between your legs. Be very careful.

If you implant this image firmly enough in your mind through experience (and visualizing is an experience), then it will pop up in your mind when you are about to make a decision, and it will caution you.

That metaphoric sword should not keep you from making decisions, but it ought to help keep you from delighting in being a “judge,” one who is entrusted to make rulings.