There are few cases in the Torah in which emotions or
thoughts are directly demanded. While we are called to increase love and avoid
hatred and jealousy, these mitzvot are far outnumbered by commandments on
interpersonal and ritual actions. However, this is not because the Law is
independent of our inner lives; on the contrary, action based mitzvot are often
aimed at shaping and refining the way we think, feel, and view the world.
The peculiar case of the enemy’s ox, found among the great
variety of laws in Parashat Mishpatim, is an example of a practical mitzvah
intended to alter our emotional experiences. Exodus 23:4-5 reads as follows:
‘If you meet your enemy’s ox or his donkey going astray, you must surely bring
it back to him. If you see the donkey of someone who hates you lying under its
burden, and you would refrain from helping it, you must surely help him with
it.’ While this mitzvah may seem to be concerned with the animal regardless of
the relationship with the enemy, this interpretation is questionable when
compared with the similar law found in Parashat Ki Teitzei (Deuteronomy 22:1):
‘You must not see your brother’s ox or his sheep driven out and turn yourself
away from them; you must surely return them to your brother.’ Were the mitzvot
only concerned with the treatment of animals, the latter would be superfluous;
after all, if I am obligated to help an ox even when it belongs to my enemy, I
should be able to extrapolate that I must help all oxen. So why must I be told
twice: first for an enemy’s ox, and then for a friend’s?
The sages of the Talmud (Bava Metzia 32b) teach from these
verses that in a hypothetical dilemma between helping a friend’s ox and an
enemy’s ox, one must first help their enemy. Furthermore, they conclude that if
helping the friend’s ox would fulfil the biblical mitzvah but the enemy
requires help in loading his animal (which is not a biblical requirement), one
must still prioritise the enemy. This counterintuitive order of priority
exists, according to the sages, to help us ‘conquer one’s (evil) inclination’.
Thus we are urged to consider those we dislike as equal in
humanity and need with those we love; moreover, we are taught to prioritise
those we dislike in order to train ourselves out of the impulse to ignore them.
That impulse itself is characterised in the verse ‘If you see the donkey of
someone who hates you lying under its burden, and you would refrain from helping
it, you must surely help him with it’ (Ex. 23:5, emphasis mine). As we are more
likely to be acutely aware of the needs of those we love, prioritising our
enemies allows us to ensure that their needs do not go ignored.
Parashat Mishpatim does not tell us directly that we must
love our enemies. Instead, in giving us this special obligation towards those
with whom we have hostile relationships, we are provided with a method for
training ourselves out of hostility. If we can teach ourselves to remain aware
of the needs of those we would rather ignore, and respond with unhindered aid,
we might find that we able to unburden ourselves of hatred.