When the Jew celebrates his good fortune, he must see to it that the Levi, who does not have a designated portion in Eretz Yisrael, is included. Rashi comments that the Levis’ dispensation concerning the Bikkurim, the first fruits, applies only as long as the Leviim do not plant produce in the designated Arei Ha’Leviim, cities set aside for the Leviim. If his plantings yield produce, he must take the first fruits and bring them to the Bais Hamikdash. Implied from this halachah is that, even though Shevet Levi was not enslaved in Egypt as were his brethren, he is still able to pronounce the phrase, Va’yareiu osanu ha’Mitzrim va’yaanunu, va’yitnu aleinu avodah kashah; “The Egyptians mistreated us and afflicted us and placed hard work upon us” (Ibid. 26.6). How can they say this? They did not work, because even Pharaoh understood that a segment of the nation must be released from work, since their very existence was based upon their adherence and commitment to Torah study.
Horav Aizik Ausband, zl, derives from here that the middah, character trait, of nosei b’ol im chaveiro, carrying the yoke with his fellow Jew, means more than simple empathy for another fellow who is going through a difficult time. It means feeling another fellow’s pain – as if it were my own pain. When my brother suffers – I suffer. He carries the yoke with his friend, because it is his yoke as well. We now understand why the Levi can say the words Va’yareiu osanu ha’Mitzrim, “The Egyptians mistreated us,” because Shevet Levi participated in the affliction through their empathy, such that it became their affliction. The Shlah HaKadosh writes: “Shevet Levi and Levi ben Yaakov did not actually work side by side with his fellow Jew. Due to his sincere feelings of wanting to share in their pain and exile, however, he (Levi) gave his sons names which coincided with and alluded to the exile. Gershon: we are sojourners in a land which is not ours; Kehas: they blunted our teeth; Merari: they embittered our lives. They sought every which way to participate in – and personally feel – the pain.
In order to feel another Jew’s pain, it is crucial that we listen (acutely) to him. At times, it is what they say and how they say it, or it can also be what they do not say. Regardless, unless one listens, he is unable to “hear” the pain in their voices, and, subsequently, help them. Horav Shlomo Freifeld, zl, was noted for his ability to connect almost immediately with Jews of all types and walks of life. Reb Eliyahu Essas, one of the original Russian refuseniks, who succeeded in catalyzing the opening of doors for Jews in the Soviet to return to their faith, came to hear Rav Shlomo when he spoke in Yerushalayim. Reb Eliyahu walked into the room in which Rav Shlomo sat, surrounded by his many students. Rav Shlomo took one look at him, and tears welled up in his eyes. The Rosh Yeshivah rose and embraced him. Reb Eliyahu later told his student, “I had a sense that this Jew understood all the suffering that I had endured in my life.” He cared.
Shortly after being diagnosed with the illness to which he eventually succumbed, a student got married in a city in the Midwest, a few hours plane trip from New York. While the student longed to have his revered Rebbe at the wedding, he knew that, in his weakened state, it would be very difficult. The Rosh Yeshivah insisted on attending and participating. He attempted to conceal his pain when he danced with the chassan, a brilliant smile illuminating his sallow features. Rav Shlomo explained his reason for making the trip, despite its toll on his health.
“Regardless of where I am, I will be in pain. At least in this way, I can be mesameach, bring joy, to a chassan.”
Rav Shlomo not only listened more deeply than others, but his vision penetrated their souls to the point that what he saw differed from that which others would see. Reb Amos Bunim, zl, was a lay leader, a ben Torah, who was close with Rav Shlomo and his yeshivah. Reb Amos once entered the bais hamedrash, and the Rosh Yeshivah pointed to a teenager sitting on a bench. “Do you see that boy?” he asked. “I do,” replied Reb Amos. Rav Shlomo asked again, “Do you see him?” Again, Reb Amos replied that he did indeed see him. “No,” Rav Shlomo exclaimed, “you see a long pony tail and a ripped T-shirt… You are not seeing the neshamah!” He saw what others did not see because he looked for it.
Rav Shlomo offered a powerful insight into the “dialogue” that ensued (or should have) between Yosef and his brothers. The Torah dictates that, after Yosef accused his brothers of being spies, he said that the only way to prove their innocence was to produce their youngest brother, Binyamin. The brothers realized that nothing just happened; there is a cause and an effect. They apparently were being punished for the treatment of Yosef. However, they acknowledged guilt only concerning their lack of listening to his pleas. Then one said to another, “Indeed, we are guilty concerning our brother, because we saw his heartfelt anguish when he pleaded with us, and we paid no heed; this is why this anguish has come upon us” (Bereishis 42:21).
Ramban asks the obvious question: Where do we find any indication that Yosef pleaded with them? The pasuk describes the sale of Yosef without mentioning anything about his pleading with them.
Rav Shlomo explained (and this answer characterizes what kind of person he was). He asked, “Who says that they heard?” Sometimes one can hear something, but it does not register. To him, it is nothing more than background noise.
“Surely, Yosef pleaded with them. Who would just sit there and do nothing as his life is being manipulated? The problem was not with Yosef, but with his brothers. They did not listen. They were so intent on selling Yosef and being rid of him that they completely ignored his begging them to reconsider. It was only now, after they saw that they were being punished for something, that they introspected and realized that they had not listened to Yosef’s pleas.” He had this insight because he understood what it meant to listen.
