To love one’s fellow as if he were loving oneself is much more than a guideline/criterion for governing interpersonal relationships. It is, in fact, the Torah’s definition of true love. Conditional love, selective love, self-serving love, is not love. It may resemble affection, but it is a far cry from satisfying the Torah’s criteria. It is only when one achieves love that is kamocha mamish, truly as oneself, with the same sensitivity, concern and respect that one accords his own needs, does the term ahavah have true meaning. Anything less, simply misses the target, as it is a pale imitation of the Torah’s demand of love. The Torah insists that love be kamocha – with the parallel instinctive concern one has for his own dignity, pain, honor and aspirations. We neither rationalize our needs, nor do we minimize our pain – physical or emotional. This same immediacy must be extended to our fellow, if we want to describe our act of concern as “love.”
How far does one go to help a fellow Jew? What if it means enduring physical and emotional pain? Truthfully, we have no parameters. A fellow Jew is a brother; he is family; he is part of us. As such, one must help his fellow even at the expense of his own personal pain and humiliation.
Let me drive it up a notch. V’ahavta l’reiacha kamocha has become the general maxim for defining interpersonal relationships. It is, by and large, a difficult principle to undertake and realize. The criteria for success are far from simple. People are dissimilar from one another, thus rendering kamocha, like yourself, a challenging task. People vary by personality, temperament, and acumen. Some are profound thinkers, exceptional scholars, social activists. We also see the common, simple Jew who, although a fine, decent person, lives a lackluster life with limited achievements and more limited social skills, often due to lack of opportunity. How does one love all of them in a similar manner?
Perhaps, a deeper understanding of the term kamocha might be enlightening. Is kamocha a descriptive term defining how much one should love his fellow? Or is it, perhaps, an allusion to how one might successfully love his fellow man who is regrettably not his “speed” or just not very lovable? One of the Baalei Mussar (Ethicists) relates an incident that occurred during one of his visits to the chronic disease floor of a major hospital. In one of the rooms, a young boy was suffering from a terrible disease that afflicted his entire body. His skin was either blistered, peeling or covered with foul-smelling boils. The pain was controlled with heavy doses of morphine, but the child’s appearance and the noxious odor that permeated the room were difficult for even the most sensitive individual to tolerate. The Rav was about to enter the child’s room when he was preceded by the child’s mother. “My sweet child,” she exclaimed lovingly, as she entered the room. “Oh, my dear child, you are so sweet. You are such a munchkin. You are so cute!” She kept adding on terms of affection, as she caressed and kissed his disease-riddled body.
The Rav later related this incident to his students. He then looked at them and said, “Let me ask you; What about this child did his mother not see? What did she not smell? Were her eyes not functioning properly that she seemingly did not notice what was obvious to anyone who entered the room?” Clearly, she saw him and she smelled him. Nothing about the child eluded her. What was it then? Simply, he was her child. She was his mother. A mother’s love transcends even the most frightening blemish.
This is the meaning of kamocha, as yourself. The closer one is to someone, the less anything about the individual bothers him. Blemishes, shortcomings, and failings are of no consequence when someone is really close to an individual. The child’s mother apparently saw her son’s blemishes, but they did not bother her. He was her child. My fellow Jew is my friend. He is kamocha – a part of me. One really cannot get any closer than that. That is the Torah idea of closeness – kamocha.
