People don’t always get along. It’s not just a modern problem — it’s a human problem. We are often tired, stressed, or overwhelmed. And when someone cuts us off on the highway, lets their kids run wild in a restaurant, or allow their dog to mark its territory on our doormat — it’s easy to lose our cool.
As a Rabbi, part of my calling is to help people keep perspective — to live in the tension between competing opinions, frustrations, and personalities. Much of my work involves helping people navigate conflict, and often, the pain behind that conflict.
Sometimes, I feel the emotional cost of it. Clergy, like therapists, are not immune to burnout. There’s even a term in the world of psychology — counter-transference — that describes the emotional response therapists have to their clients. I believe we’re all feeling a version of that in our modern world, intensified by social media, reality TV, and the polarizing tone of much of our news.
But over time, I’ve found something that helps me cope — something not taught in seminary, but in the gentle discipline of Mussar: the practice of finding the good in each person, no matter how difficult that person may be. It’s not just an altruistic goal — it’s been a spiritual survival skill.
An Inspirational Story
One inspirational story that continues to shape my own heart and perspective comes from Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, a fiery Hasidic rabbi of the 18th century known for his passionate defense of the Jewish people before God.
He once saw a fellow Jew openly smoking a cigarette on Shabbat — a clear violation of halacha. Rather than rebuke him harshly, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak approached with gentleness and hope:
“You probably didn’t realize it’s Shabbos today?” he suggested.
The man replied, “No, I know it’s Shabbos.”
“Ah,” the rabbi continued, “perhaps you didn’t know that smoking is forbidden on Shabbos?”
“No,” the man answered again, “I know that too.”
“Well then,” the rabbi said, “maybe you thought smoking is good for your health?”
The man shook his head. “Not really.”
At that moment, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak looked up toward heaven and cried out, “Master of the Universe! Look how honest Your people are! Even when they sin, they refuse to lie!”
It’s a humorous moment, but also deeply profound. It shows us a path forward in our own difficult relationships — one not based on judgment or shame, but on compassion and faith in the goodness still flickering inside each soul.
The Call to Judge Favorably
The Mishna teaches:
“Judge every person favorably.” (Pirkei Avot 1:6)
Rav Sha’ul exhorts, “Esteem others as better than yourselves.” (Philippians 2:3)
and Rebbe Nachman of Breslov taught, “Even if your brother is completely wicked, search until you find even one small spark of goodness in him — for from that, you can begin to judge him favorably.” (Likutei Moharan I:282)
Even Dale Carnegie chimed in from his own American perspective, “Give every dog a good name to live up to.”
These are not just words of self-help — they are blueprints for communal, national and world repair. For in the same way the Holy Temple was destroyed by Sinat Hinam — senseless hatred — it will only be rebuilt by Ahavat Hinam — causeless love.
Rubble and Restoration
The Three Weeks of Mourning, beginning with the 17th of Tammuz and culminating today on Tisha B’Av, call us into deep reflection. We remember not only the destruction of our Holy Temple but also the spiritual exile that still lingers.
Tradition directs us to pray each day for the restoration of the Temple and the coming of Messiah. As followers of Yeshua, we recognize a mystery: He is the Temple — destroyed by hatred yet raised by the love of Hashem. He is rebuilding in us a new sanctuary, not made with hands, but shaped by His Ruach.
Remember that he wept over Jerusalem and admonished, “If only you had known on this day what would bring you peace…” (Luke 19:42)
But he also offered the consolation, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” (Yochanon 2:19)
Rav Sha’ul offers further exhortation, “Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?” (1 Corinthians 3:16)
In Messiah, we are being formed into a living Temple — a holy people reflecting His mercy, truth, and love.
Rebuilding Together
If hatred destroyed the Temple, then healing and forgiveness will rebuild it. The restoration is not just the future, it’s present. It begins in how we treat each other, in our conversations, our patience, and our willingness to see the good, even when it’s hard.
We must remind ourselves:
Every person is made in the image of the Divine.
Every soul is someone’s child.
And everyone is our brother or sister.
A View from the Rubble
If you’re standing in the rubble today — emotionally, relationally, spiritually — know that you are not alone. This day calls us to mourn, yes, but not without hope.
“The fast of the fifth month will become joy and gladness and cheerful feasts for the house of Judah…” (Zechariah 8:19)
Tisha B’Av will not always be a day of ashes. One day, it will become a day of dancing. And until that day comes, we rebuild — one soul, one relationship, one act of love at a time.
May Hashem comfort Zion and all who mourn in her.
And may we, through Messiah Yeshua, become agents of healing and hope —
even as we view the world from the rubble.