Hillel Converted the Gentile While on One foot – Centrality of the Other

Let us learn a piece of Gemara together. If understood properly, I believe it holds the key to perhaps the most central dilemma in the Torah, and thus one of the most pressing issues in the topic of chinuch. 

The Gemara (Shabbos 31) relates the famous tale of the non-Jew who wanted to convert to Judaism, with one interesting condition: she’tilami’deini kol haTorah kulah ki’she’ani omeid al regel achas, you must teach me the entire Torah while I am standing on one foot. As we will learn, Shammai refused him, while Hillel accepted him. 

We can be easily tempted to understand this Gemara as a contrast of Hillel’s and Shammai’s responses to a silly and annoying request. However, it should be self-evident that the Gemara would not bother discussing an intrinsically foolish idea. If the Gemara records this conversation, the non-Jew must have raised an intelligent point, worthy of our consideration. We must therefore interpret the words carefully, as we should every word of Gemara, as alluding to some deeper wisdom. 

Let us first explore the expression “on one foot,” an extremely awkward way of referring to a short period of time. Surely, the non-Jew had something more in mind than a concise lesson. We would like to suggest that before immersing himself in the Torah’s myriad details, he wanted to establish the groundwork for this endeavor. “Surely,” he reasoned, “there exists a single, overarching principle that encapsulates the entire expanse of Torah thought, that will allow me to approach the entire matter properly.” The Gemara expresses this as ‘standing on one foot’. We need two feet to be on firm footing, to maintain proper balance. However, a person can create much more momentum, and jump higher, when launching off one foot. The non-Jew wanted to hear an idea powerful enough to guide him throughout his entire Torah journey.

Before we learn further, let us stop and consider whether we are so different from this non-Jew. All too often, we seek to distill our education into a few core values that then occupy our entire focus, at the expense of so many other vital lessons. For example, we teach our girls about tznius, and tznius – and then more tznius, as if there are no other important areas worthy of their attention.

Let us continue studying the story. Shammai forcefully rejected this notion, and dochfo b’amas habinyan, he pushed away the potential convert with the “builder’s yardstick” in his hand. 

Now, Shammai is the one who teaches hevei mekabel es kol ha’adam b’sever panim yafos, to always greet others pleasantly. Surely, this was not a visceral reaction to an annoying questioner. Rather, Shammai was clarifying why he would not comply with the request. We know that a measuring rod used for building purposes is also used as a level, a means of indicating whether one is building on a level plane. Shammai understood the question well, and he was explaining to the non-Jew why he disagreed with his approach. One powerful yesod would indeed create a strong, energetic force that could propel him through many areas of avoda, but with disproportionate results. A perfectly balanced structure requires more than one foundational point. Similarly, we require a firm, multi-dimensional basis to build our spiritual edifice. Shammai refused to help because he believed that overly focusing on one supreme value is not a proper foundation for Torah.

The Gemara continues, ba lifnei Hillel, gai’rei, the non-Jew came to Hillel, and he accepted him as a convert. The trained Talmudic mind should dismiss the possibility of viewing this as a typical disagreement of two diametrically opposed approaches, each oblivious of the other. Rather, we understand that Hillel also recognized the problem with the non-Jew’s approach, but he found a solution. He told him, de’olecha sani, l’chavreich lo sa’avid, zu hi kol haTorah kuleh, v’idoch pirusha, zil u’gmor. The entire Torah is based on the famous principle: “Do not do to others whatever you would not want done to yourself.” The rest of the Torah, he explained, is merely commentary to this one great precept. Let us try to understand how this idea creates a healthy and balanced approach to Torah. 

Rashi, in his first explanation, says that this principle encompasses all of Torah, even mitzvos bein adam l’makom. The term “friend” in this pasuk refers to Hashem. Just as we dislike when someone does not heed our instructions, we should listen to and obey everything Hashem commanded us in the Torah. 

Let us understand this motivation properly. Does a typical fellow walk around with an attitude expecting others to obey him? What Rashi means is that we each have a certain mehalech, a specific approach to life, to our avodas Hashem, depending on our individual personality. One person bases his work on a strict adherence to Truth. Another might be motivated by a strong sense of justice, while yet another is completely driven to perform chesed for others. These are positive traits, and they can certainly aid us in our avoda. However, the downside is that we also tend to expect others to join us and work on our terms. Since we are convinced of the importance of the specific mida, we encourage and ‘demand’ from others that they follow suit, without much tolerance for different approaches. 

This is what avoda looks like when it is based ‘on one foot’. A single foundational principle might indeed carry someone quite far, but it is inherently limited, as the person cannot develop fully, in a balanced way. 

This was the insight shared by Hillel. He identified with the non-Jew’s desire to have a strong, primary basis for his avoda; he accepted it as a worthwhile component of his work. Yet, he agreed with Shammai, that a person must ‘stand on two feet’, he must broaden himself. How does he accomplish this? By relating to another person’s mida, by making room for another approach in his worldview. In its most elementary form, this means recognizing the will of Hashem, because Hashem has His plan, too! Yes, we have our own approach to life, but just as we want others to work on our terms, we must recognize the legitimate place of the other, that the other person has his own way of doing things. ‘Standing on two feet’ means accepting, giving credence, and even including someone else’s approach in our own life. This principle causes us to fulfill Hashem’s desire. Therefore, it serves as a foundation for the entire Torah. 

This interpretation is further supported by the way Hillel expressed his idea. He could have said the principle in its positive formulation, as it is written in the Torah – v’uhavto l’reiacho kumocha, to love others as yourself. Why does he state it in the negative? 

A superficial reading of this pasuk can lead to a serious misunderstanding. One could stay in the center of his universe, wholly absorbed in his own perspective. To him, it is still all about kumocho, about himself. He will simply allow himself to tolerate, or even love, others, granting them a presence despite their differences. By reversing the idea, Hillel shows us that we must truly relate to others, to allow their ideas a central place in our own world.  

As we attempt to apply this lesson to our own lives, we come to recognize that this is a real challenge for us. So often, we are firmly convinced that our own perspective is correct, and we only relate to and accept others to the extent that their approach is consonant with our own. 

However, according to our explanation of this Gemara, this creates an even deeper issue. It reveals the problem we have with keeping the Torah, as well. Of course, we accept the Torah. Of course, we agree whole-heartedly with its principles. Or do we? Yes, we do – to the extent that it conforms to our own, preconceived notions. For example, I am a moral person; I also agree that it is wrong to steal. Yet, by its very nature, the Torah’s expectations always expand our understanding of a concept a step beyond a person’s natural judgment. Do we really live according to the Torah’s ideal of honesty? If we visit a parent, and unwittingly bring something home that belongs to them, do we take immediate steps to return it? Isn’t that what the Torah demands of us? Or are we quick to justify, to rationalize, to explain how our parents are certainly not so exacting with us. In other words, we are not so quick to try to align our values with the Torah’s teachings. We prefer to stand ‘on one foot’, to base our avoda on our own approach, without the firm footing provided by the other’s perspective, by the Torah’s perspective.

Providing a framework to develop this sensitivity is one of the most crucial needs in our education. We will try to offer some suggestions over the next few weeks.