Timeless Torah

The law of laws, the mitzvah of mitzvohs is of course the commandment, “To love your fellow as yourself.” It is that which Rabbi Akiva called, “The great principle of the Torah.” Curiously enough, this ever-challenging directive is contained in the same sentence and follows the phrase, “You shall not take revenge or bear a grudge.”
One wonders why these two disparate concepts and scenarios are packaged together. Couldn’t the Torah have found more refined company for the individual willing to live by the golden rule of love? Does he then have to be paired with such coarse and petty characters as those who stoop to revenge and cannot let go of a grudge?
There is a story of a peasant who had never left his farm. His life was simple indeed and his meager possessions were the most rudimentary. One day he was compelled to travel to a large town where even the most basic of luxuries overwhelmed him. Directed to an elegant hotel, he was completely flustered and felt very out of place. Dressed as he was, in his shabby clothing and muddy boots, he was nonetheless treated like any other customer and assigned a room on the top floor.
With key in hand and a rucksack slung over his shoulder he began climbing the stairs. On the first landing there was a full length mirror. The farmer who had never seen himself was suddenly startled and frightened by the imposing image before him. He barked and growled to scare the fierce looking figure only to discover that the other fellow refused to be intimidated. In fact, the other farmer even shouted back, “I was here first,” which were the exact same words he himself had mouthed.
Taken aback, he ran to the next floor only to be confronted by the same fearsome giant who was now matching the scowl he felt on his own face. Our confused farmer almost struck his adversary. However, at the last moment he pulled short his punch when he saw his nemesis lift up his own hand for what looked like a menacing blow.
Scarping up to the third floor as fast as he could, our visitor was astounded to see his opponent had gotten there just as quickly. By now the disheveled and out of breath peasant realized that there was no escaping the fearsome brute who was stalking him, so he hurried down to the lobby to ask for help. After giving a disjointed report on the events but an accurate description of his antagonist, the man at the front desk understood only too well what had really transpired. Looking to save his guest from extreme embarrassment, he offered the following advice.
“The fellow you confronted is actually here to protect our customers,” he whispered conspiratorially. “So if you show him a hostile, angry face, he will do the same. However, he really is quite harmless. So go back upstairs and when you see him give him a big, toothy smile and see if he doesn’t respond in kind.” The farmer hesitatingly turned around and to his delight, he found his protector to be quite a decent chap.
This tale echoes the teaching of the wise King Solomon who said, “Like the reflection of a face in water so is the heart of one man to another.” If we wish to break the cycle of anger and resentment, what is required is a proactive pursuit of friendship by one of the parties involved. If we desire to do away with destructive revenge and the wasted emotion of holding on to a grudge, we must personally display feelings of goodwill.
That is why the Good Book places the mitzvah of loving your neighbor where it does. Its purpose in being there is to outline a plan of how to stop and reverse the trends of vengeance and selfishness. Stop reacting to what you see and feel. In fact, what you perceive may be a clearer reflection of who you really are, and not a true picture of who your neighbor is.
Thus we are bidden to take responsibility for the quality of our relationships. It’s up to us. All we have to do is LOVE. Actually it shouldn’t be that difficult. After all, the other fellow in the mirror is really...YOURSELF.