At this time of year, it is always worthwhile to remind
ourselves and even analyze the gemora that attributes
the destruction of Jerusalem to an isolated incident of one
person who harmed his fellow man.
A reading of this passage raises several questions. Because
of one malevolent individual should the Beis Hamikdosh
have been destroyed and the sacrifices stopped? The
question becomes more compelling when we note the identity of
the injured party. Had the leader of the entire Diaspora or a
godol hador been the victim, we may have understood
the dimensions of the sin and the subsequent punishment. But
Bar Kamtza's conduct—going to the Romans as an
informer—makes the question far more acute. Is harming
a man who is capable of informing and turning his fellow Jews
over to the enemy worth incurring the destruction of
Jerusalem?
*
Let's try to go into the details of the story and picture
it.
Bar Kamtza is embroiled in an ongoing dispute with a rival,
when suddenly he receives an invitation to his rival's son's
wedding. His heart of stone softens. Neither of them was
delighted with the conflict and now it seems his rival wants
to reconcile. This is one of the happy days of his life. He
sings a tune to himself, dons his best clothes and writes out
a fat check to express his thanks and as a reciprocal gesture
toward his rival who began to treat him cordially.
When he arrives at the wedding hall, his rival steps up to
him and says, "Sir, you were not invited."
Bar Kamtza blushes and stays seated, dumbfounded. The Baal
hasimchoh raises his voice. "Did you hear what I said?
You are not invited, so please leave the premises."
Regaining a bit of his composure Bar Kamtza whisks out the
invitation. The father of the groom says, "Listen buddy, I
wouldn't have invited you under any circumstances. Someone
made a mistake and invited you instead of my friend Kamtza.
Now please go before you ruin the wedding for me."
Bar Kamtza turns to him quietly and says, "Can I speak to you
off to the side for a second?"
"I don't have time for that. Say whatever it is you have to
say and make it quick."
"Look, why don't you do me a favor? Don't humiliate me. As
long as I'm here why don't you pretend you didn't notice me,
let me stay for half an hour and then I'm out of here."
"Forget it," says the host, raising his voice to a shout.
"Pick yourself up and scram or else I'll call security."
Bar Kamtza surveys him, searching for a trace of compassion.
A crowd starts to gather around to watch the spectacle. The
guests seated at the nossi's table see the incident
unfold and remain silent.
Bar Kamtza says, "I'm willing to cover half of the wedding.
Just don't put me to shame like this."
He regards his rival once again and finds only hardness and
hatred written on his face. At the nossi's table
conversation has now stopped and all eyes are on the scene
taking place. Will he go away or not?
"I'll cover all of the wedding expenses," whispers Bar
Kamtza.
"No," says the host. Shoulders slumping he turns and walks
out slowly, trying to maintain a dignified gait, but the
murmuring of the onlookers turns his exit into the most
humiliating experience of his life. And as if to make his
disgrace complete, the gemora says the host picks him
up and throws him out of the hall.
Everyone starts talking about the incident in detail. Some
even imitate Bar Kamtza begging to stay. Not a single person
says, "That wasn't right. The poor guy. Look what's been done
to him."
And not a single person approaches the host to say, "Think
about that poor guy for a moment. You ought to send someone
to invite him back in."
Everyone is perfectly aware that if someone were to chase
after him and entreat him to return, he would change his
mind, even for the sake of appearances. But nobody goes.
And their silence is considered passive consent.
*
Now what remains unclear is why Bar Kamtza insisted on
remaining at the wedding after he had undergone such
humiliation, and was even willing to pay out of his own
pocket to stay though the host was throwing him out in full
view.
The answer is that when a person is insulted the first thing
he wants is for people to apologize to him in order to erase
the damage. He does not even need an apology so much as to
have the insult stop.
If the insult continues he employs various means. At first
honorable means and later Bar Kamtza, hurt and broken, goes
to inform the Romans, and does so in a sly and sophisticated
manner. The man who goes to inform is not the same man who
went to the wedding. He is a different creature. He is
maimed. And who maimed him? All those who let the events take
place without protest.
All of them together and each of them individually caused the
Shechinoh to depart from Jerusalem, for when Jews are
malevolent toward one another the Shechinoh does not dwell in
their midst.
*
The lessons of the story apply in every generation.
Conflicts and disputes take place among people although they
may not always notice them. But conflicts also cause harm.
Then people become aware of them and what they do with this
awareness is very important.
Some move in closer to see what is happening, to see whether
there are interesting developments, who got the last blow in
and who is more sophisticated in his perniciousness.
It only takes one person to take action toward reconciling
the two squabblers, either privately or publicly, following
the technique employed by Aharon Hacohen or through simpler
methods. To persuade the two of them (who just want somebody
to save them from themselves) to cease their dispute.
The point is that few people are willing to do so. Even
people who do not enjoy watching a good fight, shirk from
trying to put a stop to it.
As the Yomim Noraim approach, people often ask one another
for forgiveness, but there are some people who are simply
incapable of doing so. From the standpoint of the injured
party, as long as he has not been asked for his forgiveness,
the blow continues to be felt.
For the sake of those who find it difficult to ask for
forgiveness, even before Yom Kippur, the three weeks of Bein
Hametzorim offer an opportunity for people in the proximity
of the dispute not to stand by idly—umideshasik
nicha leh says the gemora—but to take intelligent
steps to forge a compromise between the two disputants, to
bring them closer and to increase peace in the world.