May 4, 2025|ו' אייר ה' אלפים תשפ"ה Transforming Negativity into Joy: Cultivating an Ayin Tovah in a Divisive World By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

Last week, much of the American Orthodox community was abuzz about Itamar Ben Gvir. A provocative right-wing Israeli politician, Ben Gvir’s visit to New York sparked a whirlwind of controversy. Initially invited to speak at the Young Israel of Woodmere, his invitation was rescinded. Some argued that this occurred after significant social media backlash, while others pointed to other reasons why the invitation was rescinded. In response, Congregation Beth Sholom and other Five Towns synagogues extended invitations, citing his status as a democratically elected member of the Knesset. The debate raged: Is Ben Gvir beyond the pale? Should shuls host him, or cancel after issuing invitations? Why does he enjoy substantial support among religious Zionists in Israel, and should he be persona non grata if, indeed, Israel’s left-leaning Supreme Court has not barred him from office?

I had—and still have—many thoughts about this issue. But I decided not to wade into the debate. While important, it became another flashpoint of division, igniting strong, often heated reactions in our community and frankly, I just didn’t have the energy to share my thoughts last week and essentially pick a side because nowadays, it’s hard to say anything nuanced without being pigeonholed into picking a side. As I reflected on this, I was struck by a profound insight from the Chiddushei HaRim, the first Gerrer Rebbe, in this week’s parsha.

When teaching about the halachic institution of tzara’at, my students often ask me: Did everyone in the time of the Beit HaMikdash who spoke lashon hara get afflicted? Were there hundreds of metzora’im at any given time? We don’t have records of mass outbreaks, yet gossip surely existed. Does one act of lashon hara truly result in tzara’at? I don’t know definitively, but the Chiddushei HaRim’s comment provides a lens to approach this question.

The Torah describes tzara’at afflicting garments, stating that if after two quarantine periods “lo hafach ha-nega et aino” – literally, “the affliction did not change its eye” – the garment is burned. Rashi explains that “aino” refers to appearance. But why this unusual term? The Chiddushei HaRim links it to the Gemara in Arachin (16a), which lists seven causes of tzara’at. Alongside sins like lashon hara and theft are two attitudes: gasut ruach – arrogance, and tzarut ayin – stinginess or a critical eye. He suggests that the Torah uses “aino” deliberately: tzara’at reflects a failure to change one’s eye, one’s perspective. When someone views others harshly, focusing on flaws and projecting negativity, it creates an aura requiring a reset. The afflicted garment symbolizes this negativity, urging the person to “burn” their perspective and start anew. 

Rav Zalman Margoliyoth adds another layer. He explains that after the garment has been in quarantine for seven days, then we see if “lo hafach ha-nega et aino” – whether the nega has changed its ayin. If you move the letter ayin in nega from the end of the word to the beginning of the word, then the word “nega” (nun-gimel-ayin) can transform into “oneg” (ayin-nun-gimel), turning affliction into joy. The question is: Has the ayin of “nega” shifted? Have we changed our perspective to see the good in others, transforming negativity into delight? Have we begun to develop an ayin tovah?

Perhaps this explains why not every act of lashon hara may trigger tzara’at. For most, it becomes a divine intervention only when negativity permeates one’s life—when gossip turns into a corrosive worldview, isolating them from community. Tzara’at isn’t punishment for a single flaw; it’s a call to change a perspective that has grown toxic. And we can understand also why the attitude of gasut ruach, of arrogance, is included in those behaviors that can result in tzara’at. The attitude of tzara’at, of feeling that I am better than others, that others around me are flawed, feeds into this worldview of negativity.

This insight holds a powerful message for us. Do we focus on divisive issues, quarreling with those who challenge our truths? Or do we strive to find the good in others, nurturing positivity and inspiration?

As a teacher in a girls' high school, I often aim to introduce deep, nuanced discussions to our students. On Yom Ha’atzmaut, as an example, I taught a class on the complex halachic and historical dimensions of prisoner exchanges to open our students’ minds who were convinced that there was one definite answer about what to prioritize, the hostages or destroying Hamas. Yet, sometimes, I am most inspired by the simple acts of kindness I see among the students. This week, the school organized a program on Tuesday. Now the school usually tells the teachers beforehand the nature of the program but they didn’t tell us what this program would be and I was wondering – it’s Tuesday. Monday was Rosh Chodesh Iyar and Wednesday was Yom Hazikaron – Tuesday is like Yom Hameyuchas – the second day of Sivan. Why is there a school program today? It turned out that the program launched a student-led initiative promoting ahavat chinam—small, meaningful actions to foster connection and positivity. It wasn’t about dissecting contentious issues but about building a culture of belonging and achdut. It reminded me that while intellectual debate is vital, sometimes what we truly need is the simplicity of inspiration.

Our community faces challenging questions – for me lately it’s been Ben Gvir, LGBTQ inclusion at YU, charedi enlistment and the priorities in Gaza, and I’m sure that there are many others. These issues demand thoughtful, Torah-grounded responses. But as we engage with them, let us ensure we don’t cultivate lashon hara, gasut ruach, or tzarut ayin and spend most of our day bemoaning the behavior of others and our community. Yes, there is a lot to improve upon but there is also a lot to be inspired about. Let us instead strive to transform the “ayin” of “nega,” embracing an ayin tovah that sees the beauty and potential in our people and Torah. May we find ways to inspire and uplift, building a brighter, more united future.