
5.2 — Helping the Enemy
Parshas Mishpatim introduces a law that seems almost paradoxical. The Torah commands a person to help even someone he dislikes. The obligation is not limited to friends, neighbors, or members of one’s social circle. It extends to the one defined as an enemy.
The Torah states:
שמות כ״ג:ד–ה
“כִּי תִפְגַּע שׁוֹר אֹיִבְךָ אוֹ חֲמֹרוֹ תֹּעֶה, הָשֵׁב תְּשִׁיבֶנּוּ לוֹ.
כִּי תִרְאֶה חֲמוֹר שֹׂנַאֲךָ רֹבֵץ תַּחַת מַשָּׂאוֹ… עָזֹב תַּעֲזֹב עִמּוֹ.”
“If you encounter your enemy’s ox or his wandering donkey, you shall surely return it to him. If you see the donkey of one who hates you lying under its burden… you shall surely help him.”
The Torah does not deny the existence of conflict. It recognizes that people have enemies, rivals, and strained relationships. But instead of allowing hostility to harden into indifference, the Torah creates a legal obligation: you must help him anyway. The encounter with an enemy becomes an opportunity for moral repair.
Modern thinking often assumes that compassion begins in the heart. First a person must feel sympathy; only then will he act kindly. The Torah reverses this order. It commands the action first, even when the emotion is absentbecause the Torah knows that actions educate the inner world.
In practical terms, the Torah places three responsibilities on the shoulders of a person who meets an enemy in need:
Through these actions, emotional distance begins to shrink. The enemy becomes a fellow human being struggling under a load. The Torah uses law as a tool of inner refinement.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks taught that the Torah does not wait for perfect harmony before imposing moral responsibility. A society cannot function if obligation depends on affection. Law must operate even in the presence of disagreement.
The command to help the enemy creates a civic ethic. It declares that responsibility does not disappear when relationships become strained. Compassion is not reserved for those we like. It is a duty rooted in covenant.
Through such laws, the Torah introduces a radical idea: reconciliation does not begin with speeches or ideals. It begins with small, concrete acts of responsibility—lifting a burden, returning a lost object, standing beside another person in need. These actions create the possibility of healing.
Rav Avigdor Miller emphasized that the Torah’s purpose is not only to fix the world, but to fix the self. The mitzvah of helping an enemy is a clear example. On the surface, it appears to be an act of social kindness—helping another person in need. But the deeper purpose is personal refinement.
The Sages teach:
The Gemara teaches:
בבא מציעא ל״ב ב — “לִכְפוֹף אֶת יִצְרוֹ עָדִיף”
“It is preferable to subdue one’s inclination.”
Chazal explain that when a person has a choice that touches both assistance and inner struggle, the Torah sometimes directs him toward the path that breaks his resentment. Helping the enemy is not only about the animal and not only about the other person. It is about bending the will away from spite, and training the heart toward ישרות.
This is the Torah’s method of character development:
That is why this mitzvah is so powerful. It turns a chance encounter on the road into a בית מדרש of character. The body lifts, the hands help, the tongue restrains itself—and the self becomes a little less ruled by pride. In this way, the mitzvah becomes an exercise in tikkun atzmi—self-refinement—before it becomes an act of tikkun olam—repairing the world.
Rav Miller explains that the Torah does not rely on lofty ideals alone. It builds holiness through repeated practical actions. Each time a person helps someone he dislikes, he weakens the ego and strengthens his moral character.
The Torah does not attempt to eliminate conflict by force. It does not command people to feel affection for everyone at all times. Instead, it introduces structured encounters where responsibility overrides hostility.
In those moments:
The physical act of helping becomes a bridge between enemies. It reminds both parties that beneath the conflict, they share a common humanity and a shared covenant.
This is the Torah’s quiet method of social repair. It does not rely on slogans or emotional appeals. It relies on disciplined, repeated acts of responsibility.
Modern society is filled with division—political, social, religious, and personal. People often wait for reconciliation to begin with agreement or emotional change. The Torah proposes a different path. It begins with responsibility.
A practical translation of this mitzvah can include:
These actions may feel small, but they carry enormous moral weight. Each act interrupts hostility and replaces it with responsibility. The Torah’s claim is simple and radical: the first repair is internal. When a person practices tikkun atzmi, the possibility of tikkun olam opens. The road to a healthier society begins with the moment you lift the burden—together.
📖 Sources


5.2 — Helping the Enemy
Parshas Mishpatim introduces a law that seems almost paradoxical. The Torah commands a person to help even someone he dislikes. The obligation is not limited to friends, neighbors, or members of one’s social circle. It extends to the one defined as an enemy.
The Torah states:
שמות כ״ג:ד–ה
“כִּי תִפְגַּע שׁוֹר אֹיִבְךָ אוֹ חֲמֹרוֹ תֹּעֶה, הָשֵׁב תְּשִׁיבֶנּוּ לוֹ.
כִּי תִרְאֶה חֲמוֹר שֹׂנַאֲךָ רֹבֵץ תַּחַת מַשָּׂאוֹ… עָזֹב תַּעֲזֹב עִמּוֹ.”
“If you encounter your enemy’s ox or his wandering donkey, you shall surely return it to him. If you see the donkey of one who hates you lying under its burden… you shall surely help him.”
The Torah does not deny the existence of conflict. It recognizes that people have enemies, rivals, and strained relationships. But instead of allowing hostility to harden into indifference, the Torah creates a legal obligation: you must help him anyway. The encounter with an enemy becomes an opportunity for moral repair.
Modern thinking often assumes that compassion begins in the heart. First a person must feel sympathy; only then will he act kindly. The Torah reverses this order. It commands the action first, even when the emotion is absentbecause the Torah knows that actions educate the inner world.
In practical terms, the Torah places three responsibilities on the shoulders of a person who meets an enemy in need:
Through these actions, emotional distance begins to shrink. The enemy becomes a fellow human being struggling under a load. The Torah uses law as a tool of inner refinement.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks taught that the Torah does not wait for perfect harmony before imposing moral responsibility. A society cannot function if obligation depends on affection. Law must operate even in the presence of disagreement.
The command to help the enemy creates a civic ethic. It declares that responsibility does not disappear when relationships become strained. Compassion is not reserved for those we like. It is a duty rooted in covenant.
Through such laws, the Torah introduces a radical idea: reconciliation does not begin with speeches or ideals. It begins with small, concrete acts of responsibility—lifting a burden, returning a lost object, standing beside another person in need. These actions create the possibility of healing.
Rav Avigdor Miller emphasized that the Torah’s purpose is not only to fix the world, but to fix the self. The mitzvah of helping an enemy is a clear example. On the surface, it appears to be an act of social kindness—helping another person in need. But the deeper purpose is personal refinement.
The Sages teach:
The Gemara teaches:
בבא מציעא ל״ב ב — “לִכְפוֹף אֶת יִצְרוֹ עָדִיף”
“It is preferable to subdue one’s inclination.”
Chazal explain that when a person has a choice that touches both assistance and inner struggle, the Torah sometimes directs him toward the path that breaks his resentment. Helping the enemy is not only about the animal and not only about the other person. It is about bending the will away from spite, and training the heart toward ישרות.
This is the Torah’s method of character development:
That is why this mitzvah is so powerful. It turns a chance encounter on the road into a בית מדרש of character. The body lifts, the hands help, the tongue restrains itself—and the self becomes a little less ruled by pride. In this way, the mitzvah becomes an exercise in tikkun atzmi—self-refinement—before it becomes an act of tikkun olam—repairing the world.
Rav Miller explains that the Torah does not rely on lofty ideals alone. It builds holiness through repeated practical actions. Each time a person helps someone he dislikes, he weakens the ego and strengthens his moral character.
The Torah does not attempt to eliminate conflict by force. It does not command people to feel affection for everyone at all times. Instead, it introduces structured encounters where responsibility overrides hostility.
In those moments:
The physical act of helping becomes a bridge between enemies. It reminds both parties that beneath the conflict, they share a common humanity and a shared covenant.
This is the Torah’s quiet method of social repair. It does not rely on slogans or emotional appeals. It relies on disciplined, repeated acts of responsibility.
Modern society is filled with division—political, social, religious, and personal. People often wait for reconciliation to begin with agreement or emotional change. The Torah proposes a different path. It begins with responsibility.
A practical translation of this mitzvah can include:
These actions may feel small, but they carry enormous moral weight. Each act interrupts hostility and replaces it with responsibility. The Torah’s claim is simple and radical: the first repair is internal. When a person practices tikkun atzmi, the possibility of tikkun olam opens. The road to a healthier society begins with the moment you lift the burden—together.
📖 Sources





“Helping the Enemy”
“וְהָלַכְתָּ בִּדְרָכָיו”
This mitzvah commands a person to emulate the ways of Hashem—kindness, patience, compassion, and moral restraint. Assisting even an enemy reflects this Divine model. The Torah’s command to help an adversary is not merely social policy; it is a form of tikkun atzmi, training a person to act with Godlike mercy even when the ego resists.
“עָזֹב תַּעֲזֹב עִמּוֹ”
This mitzvah obligates unloading and assistance even when the owner is an adversary, expressing compassion as a deed rather than a feeling and requiring responsibility in the presence of conflict.
“הָקֵם תָּקִים עִמּוֹ”
This mitzvah obligates active help in restoring another’s ability to continue, reinforcing that responsibility toward others is not cancelled by personal dislike.
“לֹא־תִרְאֶה חֲמוֹר אָחִיךָ… נֹפְלִים בַּדֶּרֶךְ וְהִתְעַלַּמְתָּ מֵהֶם; הָקֵם תָּקִים עִמּוֹ”
This mitzvah forbids walking away from another’s distress. It trains a person to refuse indifference and to intervene, making responsibility the default response even when the heart resists.


“Helping the Enemy”
The Torah commands a person to return the lost animal of an enemy and to help relieve the burden of his struggling beast. These laws transform hostility into responsibility, teaching that moral obligation does not depend on personal affection. By requiring action even toward an adversary, the Torah turns conflict into an opportunity for ethical growth and social repair.

Dive into mitzvos, tefillah, and Torah study—each section curated to help you learn, reflect, and live with intention. New insights are added regularly, creating an evolving space for spiritual growth.

Explore the 613 mitzvos and uncover the meaning behind each one. Discover practical ways to integrate them into your daily life with insights, sources, and guided reflection.

Learn the structure, depth, and spiritual intent behind Jewish prayer. Dive into morning blessings, Shema, Amidah, and more—with tools to enrich your daily connection.

Each week’s parsha offers timeless wisdom and modern relevance. Explore summaries, key themes, and mitzvah connections to deepen your understanding of the Torah cycle.