Tisha B'Av: What The Bar Kamtza Story Teaches About Perspective and Decision-Making

Yes, the Jewish fast day of Tisha B'Av ended this past Sunday, but I still have some thoughts from my observance this year. According to Jewish law, Torah study is generally prohibited on Tisha B'Av. This is because Torah is considered a source of happiness, whereas Tisha B'Av is a day where we are supposed to mourn and reflect. There are, however, some exceptions to that general rule. The passages from the Torah and Talmud that our Sages selected were the ones that were sad or depressing, in order to keep with the general mood of the fast day. One such Talmudic passage is in Tractate Gittin 55b-58a. Within that Talmudic passage is the story of Bar Kamtza (Gittin 55b) and how this led to the destruction of the Second Temple. Who was Bar Kamtza, and how did this story lead to such a terrible ending?

According to the Talmud, there was a rich man who had a friend named Kamtza and an enemy named Bar Kamtza. This rich man was going to throw a lavish party, and he wanted to invite his friends. The host told his servant to invite Kamtza. The servant ended up inviting Bar Kamtza by mistake. When Bar Kamzta arrived, the host was furious and wanted Bar Kamtza to leave. Bar Kamtza wanted to stay. He was willing to pay for his own food and drink. He even offered to pay for the whole party. That wasn't adequate for the host. The host was so furious at that point that he literally threw Bar Kamtza out. Bar Kamtza was interestingly angry with the Rabbis who were at the party because they sat there and did nothing. So Bar Kamtza went to the Roman prefect and lied about the Jews rebelling against the prefect. As proof, Bar Kamtza suggested to send the Jews an offering to see if they will accept it. If not, they're rebelling. Bar Kamtza was clever and made a blemish on the cows in such a way that it would not be acceptable under Jewish law. The Rabbis were willing to sacrifice it in order to keep the peace with the Roman government....all except one rabbi. Rabbi Zechariah ben Abkulas didn't want to because he didn't want to set bad precedent in terms of ritual. The same Rabbi spoke against killing Bar Kamza. Ultimately, the Rabbis did not sacrifice the animals. As a result, the Roman prefect got angry, destroyed the Second Temple, and exiled the Jews from the land of Israel.

While the story is an intriguing one, it leaves a lot to be desired because details are missing. Why are the host and Bar Kamtza on bad enough terms where the host felt the innate need to kick him out? Why did Bar Kamtza feel the need to punish the Rabbis instead of the person who publicly embarrassed him? Why did the rest of the Rabbis give into Rabbi Zechariah? Looking at the story, I have to wonder if there really is one person to blame. On this Tisha B'Av, my synagogue held a Tikkun Bar Kamtza, a sort of learning session to analyze the story and understand where each character was coming from. It's with that mindset I would like to proceed with analysis of the story and characters.

The Host's Perspective: The Talmud uses the word דבביה to describe Bar Kamtza. While it is commonly translated as "enemy," the Aramaic has a connotation of "one who speaks bad about others." With that in mind, perhaps the host did not want Bar Kamtza at the party because Bar Kamzta had already spoken ill of the host, so ill that Bar Kamtza's presence was a true trigger. Alternatively, perhaps the host was worried that Bar Kamtza would be gossiping at the party, and the host wanted none of that. The host might have felt the need to throw out Bar Kamtza because he felt insulted that he could have his friendship or self-respect bought off. On the other hand, perhaps he was so petty and had his ego so damaged that he didn't want to hear any of it.

Bar Kamtza's Perspective: There are some ways to look at Bar Kamtza. One is that he is so superficial that he buys friends off, and that he is so insecure that he needs to harm the entire Jewish people to satiate his ego. Here is another possibility. Maybe Bar Kamtza realized that he was out of line, and maybe he saw the invitation as an olive branch and an opportunity to reconcile with the host. And when Bar Kamtza arrived, he was so shocked both by the host's behavior and the Rabbis' indifference that he lost faith in a religion that is supposed to have a higher ethical standard. Bar Kamtza might have gone to the Roman authorities because the religious authorities hurt him one time too many.

The Rabbis' Perspective: The Rabbis need further examination, as well. It is possible that the Rabbis gave into bystander effect because they're human like everyone else. It is also possible that the Rabbis previously tried to intercede to no avail, and they did not want to get further involved because they knew that rebuking without influence is not only futile, but against Jewish law (Talmud, Yevamot 65b). It is also possible that the Rabbis were keeping calm as not to cause a panic because people look towards their spiritual leaders for guidance on how to act and how not to act.

And yet there's another take I have for the rabbis' perspective: weak leadership. The Rabbis didn't want to say anything at the party because they didn't want to be controversial. When the Romans presented the offering, the Rabbis didn't want to make any waves, even though the sacrifice would have been performed behind closed doors and the masses would have not known the difference. In part, I think the reason is that the Rabbis were overly obsessed with ritual minutiae without seeing the bigger picture. It wouldn't be the first time in Jewish history in which the means were conflated with the ends, especially with regards to sacrifices.

And there is yet another reason I think this is weak leadership. In the Talmudic passage, R. Yochanan doesn't blame Bar Kamtza, but rather R. Zechariah ben Abkulas for his [excessive] humility. The Talmud uses the word ענוותנותו to describe humility. I brought the definition up before when discussing Moses' humility. But in Hebrew, "humility" doesn't mean meek or self-deprecating. "Humility" means an honest sense of self-awareness, a mentality of "no less than my place, no more than my space." That means if the Talmud is attributing this word to R. Zechariah, then he knew that he was in no position to be making decisions. What's even worse is that the Rabbis of the time were so weak that they were incapable of foreseeing the outcome, which is bad because foresight is what the Talmud defines wisdom as (Tamid, 32a).

Postscript
George Santayana said that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. The story might be about two millennia old, but the story of Bar Kamtza has important lessons about Judaism and life more generally:

1. When we interact with others, we think we have the full picture. The truth is that even when we think we do, we don't. I think there were certain details omitted intentionally to remind us that in our interpersonal interactions, our knowledge is more incomplete than we think. This is why we need to take other perspectives into view and have a broader view.
2. While necessary, empathy is not enough to fully understand. In order to do so, you need to be mindful enough to take the other's perspective and walk in their shoes (Pirke Avot 2:4) to the point where you can "argue it from their side." This is not to say that you ultimately end up agreeing with the other person, but having their perspective in mind goes a long way.
3. When making a big decision, especially one that affects the fate of an entire people, make sure you keep your eye on the forest instead of obsessing over one little sapling. 
4. We should not practice a ritual for its own sake and have it void of spirituality. This is especially true if that needless obsession over minutiae means having the occupying rule come after the Jewish people, destroy the Temple, and force them into exile. 
5. Maybe the reason why the Talmudic story doesn't mention why the fight started between the host and Bar Kamtza in the first place is because it doesn't matter. Even if Bar Kamtza did something horrid prior to the party, two wrongs still don't make a right, not to mention that Jewish law teaches that rebuke is supposed to take place privately (Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, De'ot, 6:7). 
6. As R. Zechariah ben Abkulas illustrates, the worst choice you can make in life is not making a choice at all. Going for the path of least resistance can get you in all sorts of trouble because it means you are no longer able to exert control. 
7. Our words have the potential to do great harm or great good. Even if it is in more everyday interactions, we have the choice to use our words to uplift others instead of rejecting and bringing others down. 

I will conclude with this. Perspective is about looking at the bigger picture, which means looking beyond our own view. Good decision-making is about looking at the bigger picture, especially when in a leadership role. However, even small decisions can have a big impact. The Bar Kamtza story reminds us that our exertion of our free will matters, and has the potential to have major consequences, both good and bad. Whether in thought, action, and deed, let us reverse the needless hatred that brought down the Second Temple by bringing more good into this world.