In his defining of the Hebrew word for "jealousy" or "righteous indignation", kinah, the foremost commentator, Rashi, observes that whenever any derivative of the word appears in the Torah, it is always referring to "an individual who settles a score to avenge the vengeance of a matter."
At first blush, this is baffling. A jealous person is one who feels pained that he does not have what his neighbor does. Is the great sage really try to convince us that the feelings harbored when, say, one neighbor has a nicer car is … vengeance?
Rashi is teaching us a profound lesson.
Rabbi Matisyahu Solomon, the mashgiach ruchni (spiritual supervisor) at the world's largest rabbinic seminary, Beth Medrash Govoha in Lakewood, New Jersey, posits that in order to understand Rashi's comment, it is necessary first to delve into the human psyche, to examine the nature of the envious person — what motivates jealousy, and how it reaches the point of vengeance.
At the outset, we must take into account the anomaly that seems to make the character flaw of jealousy unique. With every other form of lust or craving, one seeks gratification of an urge. If the desire isn't satisfied, one may become disturbed. Any distress, however, only concerns the pleasure which he did not obtain. As soon as this pleasure is availed to him, his mood reverts to its original state. Not so with jealousy.
When one is jealous of someone for something the other possesses, the focus of his envy immediately transfers from the object he desires, to the person who possesses it. The person begins to envy and then hate the individual — even after he has also acquired the very same object. While he might now own the same object, the hatred that preceded this ownership is still dominant.
In other words, there are a number of steps establishing the foundation of jealousy.
First, one observes an object in someone else's possession for which he has a desire. He says to himself, "My friend has something that I don't."
Second, he says, "I also deserve such an item. He is no better than I."
In the third step, he feels that, indeed, he is more deserving than his friend to own the item in question. With that, he begins to imagine that, in truth, this object should have been his in the first place. He now wonders, "What is he doing with my object?"
Finally, he gets carried away by his imagination and becomes angry that his friend "stole" his object. "What he has is really mine!" He now becomes enraged at the individual who "used to be his friend" and seeks vengeance — from him. This is the meaning of Rashi's statement: the word kinah, commonly translated as jealousy, contains in it an overpowering component of vengeance. This is human nature.
Rabbi Solomon notes that, regrettably, the nature of many people is to be contentious and vengeful throughout their lives. They want to be on top; they seek public acclaim. If someone else receives the public recognition they feel belongs to them, they become agitated and distressed. They plot. They engage in lashon hora, disparaging speech and slander. This is their revenge. This soothes their anger. But not only do they gossip, they want to listen to it — anything, as long as it belittles and disgraces the individual who is the subject of their envy. Envy is the root of gossip.
Jealousy, hatred, slander, vengeance — all are expressed because our neighbor has something that we would also like to have. It never enters our mind that perhaps we do not deserve it, or that we did not work hard enough for it.
IS THERE A CURE FOR ENVY?
Envy is the result of ignorance and foolish thinking, writes Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto in his philosohphical masterpiece, "Mesilas Yesharim," rendered into English-language adaptation as "Lights Along the Way". The envious person gains nothing; the person whom he envies loses nothing; the only one who loses out is the one who envies. Envy is lethal; it is irrational. But that fact does not seem to stop anybody.
Rabbi Yechezkel Levinstein (1884 - 1974) explains the seriousness of the ailment called envy. This doctor of the spirit sees the jealous individual as one who does not realize that he is sick. Without knowing to medicate himself, the disease, he argues, will inevitably eat away at him until he becomes filled with hatred.
Is there, then, no hope? There is one chance for a cure — faith in the Almighty. If a person infuses himself with the idea that whatever he will ever have is from the Divine and that no one can ever take away from him what is rightfully his, he will be cured of envy.
Indeed, one who is envious of another person is, as Rabbi Chaim Vital (1543-1620) asserts, an individual who is rebelling against the Almighty. Why? Because he's challenging G-d's decision concerning who should have and who should not have. (This, of course, doesn't provide somebody with an excuse to be lazy.)
Maimonides writes that in the Messianic era there will be no wars, no hunger, no jealousy and no envy. There will be an abundance of good, and people will lack nothing. They will be involved in only one endeavor: to know G-d, to develop a deeper knowledge of His greatness.
How interesting it is, observes Rabbi Solomon, that the only improvement needed to bring about a period in which we will warrant the world being filled with a profound knowledge of the Almighty is when envy is abrogated from our midst.
Unfortunately, this "only thing" seems to keep eluding us.
