Criticism is hard to receive and hard to give, but effective critique of ethical lapses can keep societies, families and congregations from collapsing

Rabbi Yael Splansky
Holy Blossom Temple, Toronto

Rabbi Mark Fishman
Congregation Beth Tikvah, Montreal

Rabbi Fishman: “Reprove a wise person, and they will love you” (Proverbs 9:8). Have you ever found yourself on the receiving end of someone else’s rebuke? I’m not sure what thoughts go through your mind at that moment, but occasionally I think to myself, “How can I love this person even more?”

If our goal is to become better people, fighting for truth and spiritual growth, then to be told of a misstep would certainly be welcome. Indeed I have witnessed in the growth of children that those who are not reprimanded or ever disciplined seem to have an insecurity to them. There seems to be the lasting fear and questioning on behalf of the spoiled child: why was I not reprimanded for this?  

Of course, there is an art and skill to giving rebuke. 

Rabbi Splansky:  That’s the trick.

Two thousand years ago, the Mishnaic Sage Rabbi Tarfon asked, “I wonder whether there is anyone in this generation who knows how to accept reproof,” while Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah quipped, “I wonder if there is anyone in this generation who knows how to give reproof” (Babylonian Talmud, Archin 16b).  

Criticism is hard to receive and hard to give in such a way that it can be received. But effective critique of ethical lapses can keep a society, a congregation, a family from collapse.  

Rabbi Fishman: During this season, our thoughts turn to the Haggadah and one of its most well-known sections: the four sons. Is a child really deemed so bad that they are defined as the “Wicked Child”? Does not such “profiling” lead to a certain self-fulfilling prophecy? 

A serious and soul-searching question is being raised. “Mum/Dad, I don’t care about this seder/religion/celebration because I never saw you get excited about it, either. If you never gave me the tools with which to appreciate it, how do you expect me to be meaningfully engaged?”

Rabbi Splansky: The “Rasha,” the “Rebellious Child” is by far the most interesting character. If I had to choose just one of the four “children” for my seder, I’d choose the one who would challenge my thinking, even if irreverently.  We don’t only set a place for the “Rasha” at our table because he needs our attention and guidance. We draw him nearer, because we need him, too. Every edgy question he lobs at the festive table gives us the opportunity to articulate our own convictions, our own faith, our own commitment to bringing the world “from degradation to exaltation.”  

To the Rasha we mustn’t just speak flowery words of platitudes. We have to show him. However, if he’s agreed to sit at the table, he’s already engaged, and if he enjoys critical thinking, then with the right teachers and role models he can become a Chacham, a wise one.

Rabbi Fishman: A story is told that a person came to the famed Rebbe Elimelech of Lizhensk asking to be forgiven for his behaviour. Reb Elimelech decreed that for such a misdemeanour, the harsh and painful consequence of having burning oil poured down his throat was his only salvation. 

With a broken heart and great humility, the man agreed and accepted his fate. Closing his eyes, he opened his mouth and at that moment, the rabbi took a spoon full of honey and placed it in his mouth instead. “You have made a full atonement,” declared the Rabbi. “Now go out back into the world and use your talents for the good, become the righteous person you know you can become.”

Rabbi Splansky: I’ve heard that story over the years, and I admit, it still terrifies me. The learning is gleaned from the Jew in the story who was self-aware enough to know he needed to change. His search for another’s critique is a sign of the strength of his character.  

We Jews are especially critical of one another. It is not an attractive trait. But when the criticism is borne from love and offered with love, it can create cohesion of thought and purpose. It can protect our “kinsmen” who are vulnerable at the margins. Moreover, when we seek out criticism from one another, we build trusting relationships and discover our finer selves. 

How to advance ourselves in the art of Jewish criticism?  Be ever mindful that more than we want to be right, we want to be good.