Ask the Rabbis, a forum that appears in each issue, provides a rare opportunity to read the opinions of rabbis from across the spectrum of Judaism. Its purpose is to illuminate the diversity within Jewish thinking and create a cross-denominational discussion that leads to deeper understanding.

What Does Judaism Teach Us About Envy?

Independent

Legendary film director Cecil B. DeMille’s tenth commandment does not forbid envy. It forbids craving someone else’s property or partner. Craving is not envying. It is a unique concept, actually the only innovative idea in the Sinai revelation: Sins of the mind, the sin not of envying what someone else has but of craving it. Craving sits on the edge of actually going for it. Therefore, the ancient rabbis distinguished between the quality of a negative thought that is fleeting and one that is obsessive. The former is harmless and very human, the latter festers the potential for actually acting on it. All of our emotions are equally creations of God and thus as sacred as any of our limbs and organs. Hatred, envy, selfishness, all have their place, their time, their context. I envied the knowledge my teachers possessed and strove to gain at least a fraction. Envy challenges me to discover my unique self. By thinking, “I wish I had the special thing that they have,” I might be led to ask, “What special thing do I have?”

Humanist

As I write these words, I think of a recent conversation on Jewish Christmas tree envy. How does one handle this powerful feeling? Appreciate from afar? Get one ourselves? Compensate by going all out for Hanukkah? When Joseph’s brothers saw that their father loved him over them, they hated him. The brothers were envious of Joseph’s special status. They not only begrudged his good fortune in their hearts; they took violent steps. According to Pirkei Avot, envy can “take one out of the world.” It can be corrosive, all-consuming and self-destructive. Alternatively, according to another Tal0mudic saying, one ought to be content with his or her lot. Consider the camel that wished to have horns but ultimately lost his ears. Envying what you can’t have can come out worse than when you started. But perhaps acceptance of one’s lot isn’t the answer, either, especially if it promotes complacency. Envy is a natural human feeling. While it can be destructive, it can also be a positive catalyst to pursue similar rewards for ourselves. Though maybe not the Christmas tree…

Rabbi Peter H. Schweitzer, The City Congregation for Humanistic Judaism, New York, NY

Renewal

Our Hasidic teachers call envy a “holy emotion” that brings one to the precipice of spiritual choice. Envy arises when I focus on what I lack and get upset that another person seems to have it. If I dwell in the tight consciousness of negativity, I might choose to build myself up by trashing the person I envy. Alternatively, instead of judging others in light of my insecurities, I can look at them with compassion. When we uplift others, we become vehicles of divine compassion. In Torah, the sisters and co-wives Rachel and Leah teach us a three-step process for working through envy in a holy way. Rachel envies Leah’s fertility; Leah envies Jacob’s love for Rachel. Each first engages in self-reflection and prayer. Eventually, Leah names her fourth son Yehudah, “gratitude,” and Rachel says, “I wrestled with God and my sister and I came through.” Next, they directly negotiate to share their gifts. Finally, to make an important family decision, they speak in one voice. Proverbs instructs us, “al titosh Torat Imacha” (do not forsake the teaching of our mothers). May it be so!

Rabbi Laura Duhan Kaplan, Or Shalom , Vancouver, British Columbia

Reconstructionist

“Who is rich? Those who are happy with their portion” (Pirkei Avot 4:1). Simeon ben Zoma’s brilliant maxim offers the antidote to envy and a guide to conscious communal living. Envy is the ugly flip side of empathy. Envious people picture themselves in another’s shoes, but in selfish rather than constructive ways. To pine for what others possess just distances us from them, from community and from our own happiness. Envy is useful when it motivates us to work toward holy ends and build up society (thus Beresheet Rabbah 9:7 deems the yetzer hara, or evil impulse, tov me’od, very good). But more often, envy blocks us from counting our blessings; it gets us nowhere, fast. Thoughts can’t be legislated. The commandment to not covet in Exodus 20, then, sends a value statement: Be happy with your portion and don’t bother keeping up with the neighbors. Envy brings ever-larger McMansions, faster gas-guzzlers, more stuff—a hyper-materialism that imperils our planet and alienates people who can’t or won’t join the rat race. Running mazes to get what we lack won’t bring fulfillment. Better we should count our blessings and thus become most fully human.

Rabbi Fred Scherlinder Dobb, Adat Shalom Reconstructionist Congregation, Bethesda, MD

Reform

When I approach my yoga mat, I always remind myself that what I do on my mat is what matters. I shouldn’t care that the woman behind me can hold her headstand longer than I can. Judaism urges us to pursue this practice of personal focus and self-reflection. It is inherent in human nature to compete, to strive to succeed, to do better than others. It isn’t a coincidence that the Tenth Commandment instructs us not to envy our neighbors. The divine inspiration expressed through Torah recognizes envy as a powerful force in human relationships. Yet, we know that it isn’t always an easy commandment to follow. Simeon ben Zoma (Pirkei Avot 4:1) teaches: “Who is rich? Those who are happy with their portion.” Richness—material, spiritual or emotional—is not about how much we have or how much we accomplish. While we endeavor to live rich lives, envy prevents us from finding contentment, blessing and satisfaction with what we have and who we are. Richness comes in the realization of those blessings and through the understanding and acceptance of our place on our own mats of life.

Rabbi Laura Novak Winer , Union for Reform Judaism, Livermore, CA

Conservative

“You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife…” (Exodus 20:14) is the Tenth Commandment. My students have asked, “Why does Torah prohibit coveting? I haven’t done anything wrong by wanting something that doesn’t belong to me.” Torah forbids envy because how we feel affects how we act. King David coveted Bathsheba, who was married to Uriah, an army officer. He slept with her and impregnated her, then, wishing to avoid a scandal, he arranged to have Uriah killed in battle (II Samuel 11). King Ahab coveted a vineyard adjoining his palace. When its owner Navot refused to sell Ahab the land, Ahab’s wife Jezebel hired two witnesses to testify that Navot had committed treason and had Navot executed. Since those convicted of treason had their estates confiscated, Jezebel then presented Navot’s vineyard to Ahab (I Kings 21). Both Ahab and David were wealthy and powerful. You would imagine that they would be content. And yet they were covetous. Their deep desires led to sin. We can’t stop ourselves from having thoughts and feelings. We can cultivate a posture of gratitude and associate with people who inspire us to be grateful.

Rabbi Amy Walk Katz, Temple Beth El, Springfield, MA

Modern Orthodox

Rabbi Israel Salanter wrote that to fulfill all the commandments, a person must have “every human quality—and its opposite.” Human emotions are not intrinsically good or bad but depend on how they are expressed. Envy that drives one to begrudge others and covet what they have violates the Ten Commandments. Generally in halachah, if one thinks evil but does not act on it, it does not constitute a violation. However, the Torah rules that being envious is a sin. Destructive envy grows out of failing to internalize that one is a valuable image of God, so one sees worth in external possessions. Presumably, the Torah prohibits this feeling, because it leads inevitably to sinful action. Furthermore, such envy will eat you up alive: “Envy, lust and pursuit of honors shorten a person’s life” (Ethics of the Fathers 4:28). On the other hand, envy can be channeled for good. When rabbis strive to outdo each other in understanding Torah, the Talmud comments: “The envy of scribes/scholars [of each other’s accomplishments] increases wisdom” (Baba Bathra 21A). Constructive envy is like a good drug with potentially dangerous side effects; in the end, the Talmud instructs us to be content with “our portion.”

Rabbi Yitz Greenberg, New York, NY

Sephardi

Ultimately, emotions are not subject to legislation. What can be regulated and promoted are behaviors that, it is hoped, will eventuate in the internalization of desirable attitudes. The Torah does not prohibit the emotion of jealousy; what is forbidden is to covet, which means to attempt to acquire something that rightfully belongs to someone else. Ideally, we should be disinterested in competing with our neighbors for wealth and status, but this attitude can only be cultivated gradually through study and reflection—it cannot be translated into a technical prohibition. Envy is the inability to tolerate the real or imagined superiority of another person. Maimonides explains that envy is usually a moral defect because we tend to measure the superiority of others in physical terms—we resent others who have more money or a nicer house, and we fantasize about possessing what they have rightfully earned. However, the Talmud teaches that being envious of the wisdom of another person is praiseworthy, since it inspires us to strive for ever greater heights of knowledge and understanding, and thereby promotes truly worthwhile activities.

Rabbi Joseph Maroof, Magen David Sephardic Congregation, Rockville, MD

Chabad

I envy the angels, among whom there is no envy. The angels envy me, in whom envy burns without respite. The angels envy my envy, my lust, my contentiousness, and, yes, even my obsessions. They envy the visceral passion of an endocrine-driven, palpitating, sweaty human being. “If only,” they yearn, “the serenity of our songs of love and awe could approach the unbridled ecstasy of that raw animal drive.” The angels stand in envy as the breath of G-d descends to become a human soul. Ripped out of the infinite light, it squeezes itself within meat and bones to experience that passion which belongs uniquely to earth—and channel that toward its beloved above. A new sort of love is born: A fire within the human heart upon which the animal roasts, transformed to the divine. “And G-d saw all that He had made and it was very good.” “Good,” stated the sages, refers to the urge to do good, “very good,” to the passion to do no good. The evil is not good, but the passion—if only it will find its true purpose—is very good. For all that He made, He made for His glory.

Rabbi Tzvi Freeman, Director, Ask the Rabbi at Chabad.org, Thornhill, Ontario