From a stranger to a good friend

When Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai asked his five top students to get out of the Beit Midrash in order to go and see what was the good path that one should choose for oneself, he received a range of answers. The relevant mishnah in Avot (2:13) reads like this:

אָמַר לָהֶם: צְאוּ וּרְאוּ אֵיזוֹ הִיא דֶּֽרֶךְ טוֹבָה שֶׁיִּדְבַּק בָּהּ הָאָדָם. רַבִּי אֱלִיעֶֽזֶר אוֹמֵר: עַֽיִן טוֹבָה. רַבִּי יְהוֹשֻֽׁעַ אוֹמֵר: חָבֵר טוֹב. רַבִּי יוֹסֵי אוֹמֵר: שָׁכֵן טוֹב. רַבִּי שִׁמְעוֹן אוֹמֵר: הָרוֹאֶה אֶת הַנּוֹלָד. רַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר אוֹמֵר: לֵב טוֹב. אָמַר לָהֶם: רוֹאֶה אֲנִי אֶת דִּבְרֵי אֶלְעָזָר בֶּן עֲרָךְ מִדִּבְרֵיכֶם, שֶׁבִּכְלַל דְּבָרָיו דִּבְרֵיכֶם

[Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai] said to them: “Go and see which is the best trait for a person to acquire”. Said Rabbi Eliezer: “Magnanimity of spirit [literally A good eye”]. Said Rabbi Yehoshua: “A good friend”. Said Rabbi Yose: “A good neighbour”. Said Rabbi Shimon: “To see the consequences of one’s actions”. Said Rabbi Elazar: “A good attitude [literally A good heart”].  [Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai] said to them: “I prefer the words of Elazar the son of Arach to yours, for his words include all of yours”.

Rabbi Elazar ben Arach might appear to be the “winner” in this “contest”, but that would be to over-simplify a complex mishnah. Each of the five answers which Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai received is valid and correct. The essential difference between them is that Rabbi Elazar ben Arach’s answer is expressed in general terms, whereas each of his four colleagues points to a specific example or instance of a “good path” to pursue in fulfilling one’s aims in life.

Of the “losers”, Rabbi Yehoshua seems to have the least to offer. In the first place his words are so epigrammatic that we do not know what they mean. Is he referring to the virtues of having a good friend, or of being a good friend to someone else? Secondly, is not friendship arguably sufficiently covered within Avot and Jewish ethical literature in general to be taken as read?

In an attempt to make something of this teaching, commentators in our times have greatly enriched it. For example Rabbi Yisroel Miller (The Wisdom of Avos) writes:

Picture one of your acquaintances whom you don’t dislike but are not particularly close to. His life seems to be going OK as far as you know. Now imagine that you read in his diary: “My bones shudder. My soul is utterly confounded… I am wearied with my sigh, every night I drench my bed in tears. My eye is dimmed because of anger, aged by my tormentors”. Besides your surprise at his poetic writing style, wouldn’t you feel a wave of compassion for this tormented soul whose sufferings you were totally aware of?

 This man’s words, Rabbi Miller reminds us, are part of the regular Tachanun we recite most days—and our sages of old told us to say them because, for every one of us in one way or another, they are a true expression of our feelings.  We should therefore look at this casual acquaintance and appreciate that he too, like every human, experiences feelings like this without our awareness of them. Rabbi Miller continues:

Look again at your neighbour, bring out your compassion, and say “I can’t take away his pain (especially since I don’t know what it is, but I can add a small measure of joy and comfort to his life by trying to be his friend”. After focusing on one acquaintance, move on to another, and little by little your circle of love begins to grow and you become transformed.

I’m very moved by these words. Has Rabbi Miller simply provided a fanciful and idealistic cadenza with which to grace a somewhat mundane teaching, or is there more to it?  Recalling how Rabbi Yehoshua befriended the poor young Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrcanus, as mentioned in the Pirkei deRabbi Eliezer, I should like to think that he would warmly welcome Rabbi Miller’s explanation.

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