For many of my (nearly) 39 years on this Earth, I went for the jugular during arguments. It didn’t matter who I was arguing with — family, close friends, mere acquaintances — instead of seeking common ground, I would directly challenge and attempt to disprove the other person’s argument. Too often I made it personal.
Some of my friends would laugh about my ability to “burn the bridge” (while perhaps secretly worrying that I would one day end the friendship with them as well).
Only recently have I realized that much of this destructive fighting, which caused me to lose many relationships and experience a great deal of stress, resulted from low self-esteem.
If someone disagreed with me, I wasn’t mature enough to say, “OK, we disagree and that’s fine.” I took it as a personal attack, as if somehow the other person didn’t think I was intelligent, or didn’t respect me. When you think about it, many of the fights in our lives really come down to ego.
Because I often perceived disagreement as disrespect, I would become extremely aggressive. This often led to huge blow-ups and the end of friendships and relationships.
I’m embarrassed to admit this now, but I actually took pride in this aspect of my personality. I told myself that unlike most people, I had the courage of my convictions and I wouldn’t back down.
Sort of like the host in the Tisha B’Av narrative. He meant to invite his friend Kamtza to his party, but he accidentally invited his enemy, Bar Kamtza.
The host saw Bar Kamtza at the party and instead of ignoring his presence, he embarrassed Bar Kamtza by attempting to throw him out. Bar Kamtza offered to pay for the party, but the host was intent on humiliating Bar Kamtza in front of everyone.
Bar Kamtza became incensed that the Rabbis at the party didn’t object to his eviction, so he decided to go to the Caesar to tell him that the Jews were rebelling against his rule. This series of events set the sacking of Jerusalem and the destruction of the holy Temple into motion.
“Why was the Second Temple destroyed?” asks the Talmud (Yoma 9b). “Because of sinat chinam, senseless hatred of one Jew for another.”
The Jews of the Second Temple period let petty arguments and ego divide them. I can relate. Although I have improved mightily, it’s easy for me to slip back into old habits. Recently I got into a lengthy (15+ emails) argument with my cousin about whether or not Cleveland Cavaliers coach David Blatt should be fired (I vehemently argued “no,” for the record).
That certainly wasn’t an argument “for the sake of heaven.” What does that term mean?
“An argument which is for the sake of Heaven will have a positive outcome, and an argument which is not for the sake of Heaven will not have a positive outcome” — Ethics of the Fathers (Avot 5:20).
An argument “for the sake of heaven” is one in which the people involved have pure motives and genuinely believe they are advocating for the greater good. They aren’t motivated by ego or personal gain. And of course the mention of “heaven” reminds us that we shouldn’t argue frivolously — disagreements should be reserved for big, important issues that will really make a difference in someone’s life.
It’s easy to quickly compose an email in anger and hit “send” without thinking about the consequences. But as we see in the Tisha B’Av narrative, sometimes these seemingly small fights have devastating consequences.
I plan to continue working on this ugly aspect of my personality, G-d willing. May we all learn to love each other and treat our fellows with respect and compassion.
Have a meaningful fast!