WICKED!

Considering how few words the Tannaim used when teaching, it is hardly surprising that their teachings have generated so many comments and explanations. From our own experience, we see how words that are taken out of context—or which are never given a context in the first place—can be twisted, misunderstood or merely interpreted in so many different ways that the impact of their brevity is lost. In modern times, two “classics” come to mind. The first is the instruction “To avoid suffocation keep away from children”—which only carries a useful meaning when printed on a polythene bag. The second, “Stand in boiling water for two minutes”, requires a different context entirely, being a cooking instruction for a canned pudding. Fortunately, the words of our Mishnaic sages are less extreme cases but, even so, they demand some form of context or background—and may attract several competing explanations.

At Avot 2:18 Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel says:

אַל תְּהִי רָשָׁע בִּפְנֵי עַצְמֶֽךָ

Do not be wicked bifnei atzmecha (“before yourself”, “inside yourself”, “on your own”)

The precise meaning of this injunction, and of the words bifnei atzmecha, is unclear, as we see from our commentators. No context is supplied and the Tanna points to no particular objective. For the Rambam, this teaching means not judging oneself as a wicked person. The Bartenura (with whom the commentary ascribed to Rashi agrees) says it means not doing something today if tomorrow you will regard yourself as being evil for having done it. Rabbenu Yonah, author of the Sha’arei Teshuvah, puts a teshuvah-related spin on it: don’t regard yourself as being wicked since you always have the option to repent. He then adds, with an eye on Yom Kippur and Divine judgement, that you should regard yourself as half-guilty and half-innocent: your next action might then lead either to acquittal or condemnation. As for the Me’iri, his take on Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel’s words is that, if you regard yourself as being wicked when you are not, you may come to do things that are wicked. More recently, the Ru’ach Chaim reads here a caution against looking righteous and wrapping yourself in tallit and tefillin when you are inwardly seething with evil thoughts.

One can travel even further in a quest for an explanation. Thus Rabbi Yaakov Hillel (Eternal Ethics From Sinai) picks up on a Gemara (Berachot 8a) that teaches that anyone who has a synagogue in his city but prays by himself is a shochen ra, a bad neighbour. Perhaps this then is the clue: since bifnei atzmecha can also be understood as meaning “on one’s own”, Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel must have been cautioning against praying at home by home. Alternatively, according to Rabbi Hillel, a person who brazenly defies our Sages by praying by himself is automatically deemed “wicked”. Rabbi Yehoshua Heschel of Monstritch turns this idea on its head: one is only allowed to view oneself as wicked, sinful and downright inadequate if one prays with other people, by analogy of the blend of spices and herbs that made up the ketoret—the incense offering in the Temple—which would be invalidated by the absence of the foul-smelling chelbanah. In such a case, one can feel wicked in the safe knowledge that one’s wickedness is cancelled out by the company one keeps.

How much of this speaks to us today? These analyses do not reflect our way of looking at the world—or ourselves—in an era in which the vocabulary of obedience and deviancy has so greatly changed. Words like ‘sin’ are marginalized and have faded from daily parlance; ‘evil’ is now a convenient epithet for someone with whom one has a major disagreement and ‘wicked’ is now a popular musical-turned-movie (run the word through your favourite browser if you don’t believe me).  But our mishnah is not lost.

Coming to the rescue is Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski (Visions of The Fathers), who examines the Tanna’s pronouncement from his own perspective as a psychiatrist.  Do not think of yourself as an inherently bad person, he counsels. Rather, view yourself as a person who is fundamentally good but who has done bad things. Condemn the act, not the actor. This explanation might even be what Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel had in mind, and it is closer to his words than some of the explanations we reviewed earlier.

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