The Torah, in Devarim (Deuteronomy) 22:2, tells us, "You shall not see the ox of your brother or his sheep going astray and ignore them. You must take them back to your brother." Seems straightforward. A clear-cut, negative commandment – a “lo ta’aseh,” something we are not supposed to do.
But hold on. There's another verse in the same chapter, Devarim 22:4, that says, "If you encounter your brother’s ox or his donkey wandering off, you must take it back to him." This one sounds like a positive commandment, a “mitzvah aseh,” something we should do. So, which is it?
The Sifrei Devarim, an ancient collection of legal interpretations on the Book of Deuteronomy, points out this apparent contradiction. If you don’t return the lost animal, you're actually breaking both a negative and a positive commandment! You’re doubly in the wrong. This highlights the importance the Torah places on helping others and acting responsibly.
But the text goes even deeper. The verse specifically mentions "the ox of your brother." Does this mean we're only obligated to help fellow Jews? What about… well, what about our enemies?
The Sifrei Devarim anticipates this question. It asks, how do we know that this mitzvah extends even to the ox of your foe? The answer lies in the very same verse we just read, Devarim 22:4, where it refers to "your brother's ox" but also speaks more generally, implying "in any event." The mitzvah applies universally.
So why, then, does the first verse specifically mention "your brother?" The Sifrei Devarim suggests it's talking about something very profound: our yetzer hara, our "evil inclination." That little voice inside us that whispers, "Don't bother. It's too much trouble. Let someone else do it." The Torah anticipates this internal struggle. It reminds us that even when our negative inclinations urge us to ignore the lost ox – especially if it belongs to someone we dislike – we must overcome that impulse and do the right thing.
In essence, returning a lost ox isn't just about property; it's about overcoming prejudice, silencing our negative inclinations, and acting with kindness and responsibility towards everyone, regardless of who they are. It's a constant reminder that even seemingly small actions can have a huge impact on the world, and on our own souls.
Isn’t it interesting how a seemingly simple instruction about returning a lost animal can reveal so much about our own internal struggles and the importance of universal compassion? What "lost ox" might you encounter today, and how will you respond?