For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways, My ways (Yeshaya 55:8; see Rambam Hilchos Teshuva 5:5)
One morning, I was having a quiet moment over a cup of coffee when a thought struck me. It was an idea that feels particularly relevant as we approach Yom Kippur and the awesome weight of Divine judgment.
Imagine this. You’re at home and the doorbell rings. Curious, you glance out the window and see a rubbish truck parked outside. Naturally, you assume it’s the garbage collection crew. But when you open the door, you’re surprised to see a man standing there dressed not in overalls, but in a surgeon’s scrubs.
He greets you cheerfully. “Alright, mate, I’ve come to collect the rubbish. Where are your bins?” You stare at him, puzzled. “Aren’t you... a doctor?” He nods. “I used to be a brain surgeon, but I fancied a career change. Thought this might be a better fit.”
You’re bemused, but polite. You point out the bins, apologize for forgetting to take them out earlier, and wish him well in his new line of work. Off he goes, and you’re left scratching your head.
Now flip the story.
Imagine someone is about to undergo brain surgery. He’s wheeled into the operating room and told he’ll soon meet the highly qualified neurosurgeon who will perform the procedure. The door opens... and in walks a man dressed like a garbage collector.
Understandably alarmed, the patient asks, “Excuse me, where’s the surgeon?” The man replies confidently, “That’s me. I used to collect rubbish, but I’ve decided to try my hand at brain surgery. I figured it might be more fulfilling.”
At this point, no one would blame the patient for panicking. A rubbish collector attempting neurosurgery? That’s not his job. He’s in the wrong role.
And then it hit me. Isn’t that exactly what we sometimes do?
We find ourselves in situations where we don’t have the full picture, yet we’re quick to judge. Someone does something, says something, and immediately we form conclusions, pass verdicts, and even voice them out loud. We become judge, jury, and executioner.
But judgment is not our job.
We weren’t trained for it. We haven’t been given the tools, the clarity, or the understanding required to see the full picture. That role belongs to Hakadosh Baruch Hu, the only true Judge. He judges even the judges. He sees what no human can see: the context, the pain, the intention, the emotion.
When we insert ourselves into judgments of people or between people, and we say, “He’s right” or, “He’s wrong,” we’re stepping into a role for which we are unqualified. We’re the binman walking into brain surgery.
So what should we do?
We should daven. When confusion reigns, when arguments flare, when we feel pulled to take sides, we must pray for peace. Daven for unity. Daven that Hakadosh Baruch Hu, the only One who truly knows, should bring clarity and blessing to all. We must resist the temptation to be “hoycha fensters,” a Yiddish expression for those who think they see everything from their high perch and know it all. We must walk humbly with G-d, as the Pasuk says, “Hatznea lechet im Hashem Elokecha—Walk humbly with Hashem, your G-d” (Micha 6:8).
May we all be zocheh to a year where we let Hashem be the Judge, and we, His beloved children, walk with Him and our fellow Jews in love and care.
