On Seeing the Hearts of Human Beings

Today’s Torah content is dedicated to the joyous occasion of the marriage of Jon Deutsch and Avigayil Lev. Jon has "graduated" from student, to coworker, to chavrusa and friend. Avigayil, another former student and fellow Slytherin, remains a daily presence in my virtual beis midrash. I am happy for them and I'm excited to see where their life leads them.

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Artwork: Dack Fayden, by Terese Nielsen

On Seeing the Hearts of Human Beings

Seeing the Heart of David

With few exceptions, Tanach tends to eschew descriptions of the physical appearances of its characters. Two of those exceptions can be found in Sefer Shmuel. The first is Shaul: “And [Kish] had a son, whose name was Shaul, young and handsome [1], and there was not among the children of Israel a more handsome person than he: from his shoulders and upward he was taller than any of the people” (I Shmuel 9:2)

The second notable exception is David, about whom it is said: “Now he was ruddy (admoni) with beautiful eyes (yafeh einayim) and a goodly appearance (tov ro’ee)” (ibid. 16:12).

In context it is easy to see why these physical descriptions are relevant to the narrative. Shmuel ha’Navi is sent by Hashem to anoint a new king to replace Shaul. He is told that the new king will be one of the sons of Yishai. He makes the journey to Yishai’s house, and the sons are summoned:

And it was upon their arrival that Shmuel saw Eliav and said: “Surely Hashem’s anointed is before Him.” But Hashem said unto Samuel: “Do not look at his appearance or at his tall stature, for I have rejected him; for it is not as man sees – for man looks at the outward appearance, but Hashem sees the heart” (ibid. 16:6-7)

Shmuel then cycles through the rest of Yishai’s sons, before finally settling on David:

Yishai then called Avinadav and brought him before Shmuel, but he said, “Hashem has not chosen this one either.” Then Yishai brought Shammah, but [Shmuel] said, “Hashem has not chosen this one either.” Yishai presented his seven sons before Shmuel, but Shmuel said to Yishai, “Hashem has not chosen these.” Shmuel said, “Are these all the boys?” and he said, “The youngest one is still left; he is tending the sheep now.” So Shmuel said to Yishai: “Send and bring him, for we will not sit [to dine] until he arrives here.” He sent and brought him. He was ruddy with beautiful eyes and a goodly appearance. Hashem then said, “Arise and anoint him, for this is he!” (ibid. 16:8-12)

The question is: What was Shmuel’s mistake? The fact that Hashem had to correct him, saying, “Do not look at his appearance or at his tall stature … for man looks at the outward appearance, but Hashem sees the heart” implies that Shmuel erroneously focused on David’s outward appearance. How are we to understand Shmuel’s error? Are we to think that such a great prophet as Shmuel got caught up in appearance-based superficialities? And if Shmuel was merely concerned about how the new king would be perceived in the eyes of his people, did he really think that such considerations outweighed the quality of the king’s heart?

The Malbim [2] provides a conceptually and textually sound answer:

“he was ruddy”: Here is shown to us the truth of what was written earlier: “for it is not as man sees – for man looks at the outward appearance, but Hashem sees the heart.” For David was ruddy, [indicating] that “redness” was dominant in him [3], and he was [therefore] genetically disposed to [commit acts of] bloodshed. At the same time, good qualities were also indicated in him, for he “had beautiful eyes and a goodly appearance,” which indicated that he was analytically sharp-minded and had a healthy constitution …

If Shmuel had only relied on his human perception, he would have concluded that [David] was not worthy [of being king,] but Hashem “sees hearts” and knew that out of his good free-will decisions he would do only justice and righteousness, and that he would use the nature of “redness” implanted within him to wage the wars of Hashem and to annihilate the doers of iniquity from [every] city. This is what is desirable in the eyes of Hashem, that even though a person has a natural inclination towards evil, he should rule over it with righteousness and good free-will decisions. This is [the intent of] that which was written: “Arise and anoint him, for this is he” – [namely, this is the one] who is desirable before Me.

According to the Malbim, Shmuel’s mistake did not stem from a misguided overvaluation of appearances. Rather, he was legitimately concerned that David’s natural disposition towards violence, as indicated by his ruddy appearance, would render him unfit to be king over Israel. Indeed, this was a legitimate concern. This is precisely why Hashem needed to step in and provide assurance from the perspective of Divine omniscience, saying: “It is true that such a disposition could render a man unfit to be king, but this man will harness his aggressive nature and channel it towards the good.” “He was ruddy with beautiful eyes and a goodly appearance.” His potentially destructive nature will be actualized, but for the good.

Seeing the Hearts of Our Fellow Human Beings

One of the central ethical mitzvos of the Torah is ve’halachta bi’drachav (“you shall walk in His ways”). The Rambam [4] defines this mitzvah as follows:

We are commanded to make ourselves resemble Him (exalted is He) in accordance with our ability, as it is stated: "you shall walk in His ways" (Devarim 28:9). This commandment has been repeated in the statement: "to walk in all of His ways" (ibid. 11:24). The [Oral Torah's] explanation of this matter is as follows:

"Just as Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu is called 'merciful,' so shall you be merciful. Just as Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu is called 'gracious,' so shall you be gracious. Just as Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu is called 'righteous,' so shall you be righteous. Just as Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu is called 'kind,' so shall you be kind" (Sifre).

And this commandment has been repeated in different words: "you shall follow after Hashem, your God" (ibid. 13:5), and its explanation is also that we should make our good actions and lofty character traits resemble those which are ascribed to Him (may He be exalted) by way of allegory. May He be exceedingly exalted over everything.

The core of this mitzvah is that we should model our own actions and characteristics after the allegorical descriptions of Hashem’s actions and characteristics. If so, then Hashem’s statement to Shmuel, “for it is not as man sees – for man looks at the outward appearance, but Hashem sees the heart” is not to be understood merely as a particular correction of a particular man’s mistake, but as a universal ethical imperative. Accordingly, we must ask ourselves: What can we do to emulate the Divine attribute of looking past outward appearances of our fellow human beings, and instead, to “see their hearts”?

I recently finished reading Dr. Tara Brach’s book Radical Compassion. In Chapter 9, “Seeing the Goodness,” Tara writes about techniques for remembering to see the basic goodness in all human beings. Rather than attempt to summarize the main ideas of the chapter, which are built upon the previous chapters, I’d like to relate a story the author heard read at a Christmas Eve church service. When combined with the Malbim’s commentary, I believe this provides us with an approach to answering our question:

One Christmas Day, a woman, her husband, and their year-old son had driven a long way before they found an open diner by the side of the road.

It was quiet and almost empty, and they were waiting gratefully for their food when the little boy began waving from his high chair and calling, "Hi there!" to someone behind them. To the mother's dismay, it turned out to be a wreck of a man, unkempt and unwashed, obviously a homeless drunk. Now he was waving back at her boy and calling, "Hi there, baby, hi there, big boy ... I see ya, buster."

The woman and her husband exchanged looks, and the few other people in the diner were shooting disapproving glances their way. And the old guy went on, even after their food came. "Do you know patty-cake? Attaboy ... Do you know peeka boo? Hey, look, he knows peekaboo." The mother tried turning the high chair around, but her son shrieked and twisted to face his new buddy.

Finally, giving up on their meal, her husband got up to pay the bill, and the mother took the baby in her arms, praying that she could quickly get past the old drunk, who was seated by the door. But as they approached, her son reached out with both arms – his pick-me-up signal – and propelled himself into the man's open arms.

But now the mother could see tears in the man's eyes as her son laid his head on his shoulder. He gently held and rocked the boy, and then he looked straight into her eyes. "You take care of this baby," he said firmly. And as he slowly handed him back, "God bless you, ma'am. You've given me my Christmas gift."

She must have mumbled something in return, but as she rushed to the car, tears streaming down her face, she could only think, "My God, my God, forgive me."

This woman underwent a shift in her perspective akin to what Shmuel ha’Navi experienced. At first she could only see this man’s outward appearance. He was homeless. He was drunk. He was dirty. He was what Tara calls “an Unreal Other” – a person who happens to belong to the same species as ourselves, but is somehow “less real” than ourselves and those with whom we identify. And this man’s homelessness, drunkenness, and dirtiness served as evidence to expand his Unreal Otherness by generating a complete past, present, and future of him in her mind. On that basis, whether consciously or unconsciously, this man was written off as being intrinsically worth less than she, her husband, and her baby, and was destined to remain as such.

It was only when she saw the man’s reaction to her baby – to her baby’s natural and unbiased reaction to another human being – that she was able to “see the heart” of this man. And when he looked into her eyes and expressed gratitude, he became a Real Person, just like her.

Now, one might object to this line of reasoning, saying that seeing an Unreal Other as a Real Person has nothing to do with emulating Hashem’s “seeing the heart” mentioned in Sefer Shmuel. After all, according to the Malbim, Hashem’s proclamation of David’s worthiness to be king was predicated on the knowledge that he would make good free will decisions, choosing to channel his natural tendencies to his service of God. Such knowledge can only come from Divine omniscience, which – by definition – is impossible for finite human beings to emulate, and wouldn’t even fall under the purview of ve’halachta bi’drachav.

I disagree. When the Rambam introduces the mitzvah by saying, “We are commanded to make ourselves resemble Him … in accordance with our ability,” and “we should make our good actions and lofty character traits resemble those which are ascribed to Him … by way of allegory” he is acknowledging the fact that the Divine attributes are intrinsically different from our human emulations of them. Indeed, the entire first section of the Moreh ha’Nevuchim substantiates this reading. Moreover, as my Rosh ha’Yeshiva pointed out, the Sifre cited by the Rambam bears out this point. Chazal don’t say: “Just as Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu is merciful, so shall you be merciful” but rather, “Just as Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu is called merciful, so shall you be merciful.” In other words, Hashem’s mercy is of a fundamentally different nature than human mercy, and there is absolutely no way we can emulate it. Rather, we must study Hashem’s modes of action as presented in Tanach and translate them into human ethical standards.

Such is the approach I am suggesting here. Unlike Hashem, we lack the ability to see into the hearts of our fellow human beings to know what choices they will make. But like Hashem, we can take active steps to look past their outward appearances, to refrain from making definitive judgments and predictions of future behavior on the basis of what our eyes see – as if we were as omniscient as God – and instead, to see them as a fellow tzelem Elokim (“created in with a divine form”), with the same humanity as ourselves.

Of course, this doesn’t mean that we ought to be naïve or unrealistically optimistic in our dealings with other people. If, for example, an actual mugger approaches us on the street, we should take whatever precautions are necessary. But at the same time, we can still see that person as a fellow human being.

Seeing Our Own Hearts

Most importantly, this perspective must be applied to our own hearts. When we look in the mirror, we must see past the misplaced feelings of certainty we have about our “destiny” based on our dispositions and the lot we were dealt in life. There is no such thing as destiny. "See, I have placed before you today the life and the good, and the death and the bad … Choose life, that you and your offspring may live" (Devarim 30:15,19). We cannot choose our genetics or our circumstances, but we can choose what to do with them. By seeing our own heart through Divine eyes, we unlock our ability to “choose life.”

[1] The pasuk uses the phrase “tov” (“goodly”), but the Targum translates this as “shapir” (“beautiful” or “handsome”), and the end of the pasuk supports this translation.

[2] Rav Meir Leibush ben Yechiel Michel (Malbim), Commentary on Sefer I Shmuel 6:12

[3] I don’t fully understand what he means, but my guess is that it reflects some sort of theory of humourism. I don’t think it matters much, as long as we take it as his factual premise and then see how he applies it.

[4] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Sefer ha’Mitzvos: Mitzvas Aseh #8

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Parashas Masei: Leviim as Role Models of Tolerance

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Artwork: Answered Prayers, by Seb McKinnon

Parashas Masei: Leviim as Role Models of Tolerance

The United States of America in the year 2019 is a curious place. For all of its "progressive" emphasis on compassion, inclusivity, and acceptance of intentional lifestyle choices, it is shockingly intolerant and unforgiving when it comes to unintentional offenses.

This category of "offenses" is not limited to criminal infractions, but includes any speech or behavior which inadvertently results in emotional pain or personal offense to others. Even the innocent act of expressing an unpopular opinion may be labeled an "attack" or an "act of aggression" by those who feel "victimized" by hearing sentiments with which they disagree.

There is a growing list of public figures - actors, comedians, artists, authors, politicians, celebrities - who have been guilty of such missteps and have been called out for their "crimes." As a result, these people are publicly shamed, boycotted, blacklisted, canceled, and subjected to verbal abuse or even physical threats, usually over social media. In many cases, even when they apologize and express genuine regret, they are not absolved or forgiven by the public. Instead, their transgressions are considered unpardonable and the perpetrators irredeemable. 

There is a mitzvah in this week's parashah which may shed some light on the Torah's view of this phenomenon. Upon entering the Land of Israel, Bnei Yisrael were commanded to establish 48 cities. These cities serve two functions: (1) all 48 cities are to be the residence of the Leviim (Levites), who do not own any other portion in the Land, and (2) six of these are to be designated as cities of refuge for unintentional murderers to flee from the goel ha'dam (blood avenger) where they will remain protected until their release upon the death of the Kohen Gadol.

The Sefer ha'Chinuch refers to this as "the mitzvah upon Israel to provide cities to the Leviim to dwell therein" (Mitzvah #408). In his explanation of "the root of the mitzvah" (i.e. the benefits or objectives of the mitzvah), he addresses the fact that these cities were to be inhabited by two very different groups of people. The distinguished scholar-class of the Leviim are to live side by side with the criminal-class of the unintentional murderers. The Torah could have set up the cities of refuge in the territories of the other tribes. Why send the unintentional murderers to live exclusively with the Leviim?

The Sefer ha'Chinuch provides two answers to this question, the second of which is as follows:

There is another reason for the matter: Since they (i.e. the Leviim) were men of [good] heart, renowned for the eminent worth of their character traits and their noble wisdom, it was evident to all that they would not detest the murderer who took refuge with them, and would not harm him, even if he killed one of their good friends or avenging blood relations (i.e. relatives whose kinship would cause them to avenge the victim's murder), since he killed them suddenly (i.e. unintentionally), without enmity. About this chosen tribe it is stated, "who said of his father and mother, 'I have not seen him'" (Devarim 33:9). In other words, they would do nothing in the world that was not in accordance with the upright path and in line with the truth, and their heart would not be swayed by the love of any person - not even love for a father and mother, brothers and sons, whose love is necessitated and compelled by nature - and all the more certainly not love for any other human beings. I wrote another argument about this subject in the eleventh negative mitzvah in Sidrah Behar.

The Sefer ha'Chinuch's comments in Behar pertain to the mitzvah "not to alter the open land around the cities of the Leviim or their fields" (Mitzvah #342). There he writes:

At the root of this mitzvah lies the reason that the cities of the Leviim were prepared for the needs of all the other tribes. For this was the tribe chosen for avodas Hashem (the service of Hashem), and their entire occupation was with chochmah (wisdom), since they were not burdened with the affairs of agricultural labor like the other tribes of Israel. Of them it was said, "They will teach Yaakov Your ordinances, and Israel Your Torah" (Devarim 33:10). And because of the fact that there was wisdom among them, all the Israelites always had dealings with them, apart from the fact that among their cities were the cities of refuge for an unintentional killer. As a result, the eyes of all Israel were on their cities, "for a man never knows what a day may bring forth" (Mishlei 27:1).

It was therefore only right that those cities, in which all had an equal interest, with which the heart of all was concerned, should have a perfection of beauty and attractiveness. It would be to the praise and advantage of the entire people of Israel. Therefore, the order was given about them that nothing in their arrangement was to be changed. For the Sovereign Ruler of all founded and constructed them and set their boundaries, and He saw that it was good. Then any alteration beyond His words would be nothing but a detraction and a disgrace. 

There are several important lessons to be gleaned from this explanation.

Lesson #1 - Unintentional Murderers Deserve Compassion: By "compassion" I mean that they are to be treated "in accordance with the upright path," like any other Jew or human being, and not "harmed" or even "detested" by their neighbors. Although this level of compassion wouldn't necessarily extend to intentional* murderers, who committed their crimes "with enmity," it should be noted that those who seek refuge in one of these cities are not entirely blameless. If a death came about as a result of a totally freak accident, then the murderer wouldn't be exiled to a city of refuge, since he wouldn't be liable at all. The only murderer who lives in the cities of refuge is one who killed another person as a result of harmful actions on his part which he should have foreseen and prevented. In other words, he is guilty of lethal negligence, and is at fault for the loss of life he caused. Nevertheless, the Torah expects him to be treated in a kind and civil manner, and to not to be stigmatized in any way for his crime. This is true even if he hasn't done teshuvah.

Lesson #2 - The Torah Has High Expectations for Such Compassion: The Sefer ha'Chinuch makes it clear that the Torah expects the inhabitants of the cities of refuge to treat these murderers with this level of compassion no matter what - even if the murder victim was a close friend or relative. This is an exceedingly high level. The Sefer ha'Chinuch even says that one's feelings towards the murderer shouldn't be swayed by the natural love for one's own family. One might think that it would be impossible to achieve this level of personal clemency - and yet, the Torah considers it possible.

Lesson #3 - The Torah Does Not Expect This of All People: Nevertheless, the Torah's expectations are only this high for Leviim, whose lives are devoted to avodas Hashem and chochmah. The Torah does not have such high expectations for average Jews. According to the Sefer ha'Chinuch, this is why there are no cities of refuge in the territories of the other tribes. If there were, the murderers who lived there would be mistreated and resented because of the crimes they committed. Only Leviim can be relied upon to not give in to the natural human inclination to vilify and marginalize those who have committed manslaughter. 

Lesson #4 - The Torah Expects Us to Aspire to This Level: Even though average Jews are not expected to reach the level of the Leviim, we are expected to look up to them as role models. As the Sefer ha'Chinuch stated, "the eyes of all Israel were on their cities," knowing how and with whom the Leviim live, and being inspired by their virtues - including their tolerance and compassion towards the murderers in their midst.

These insights provide a new perspective on the prevalent attitude in America towards public figures who inadvertently cause offense through their words or actions. Bear in mind that we are not talking about terrorists, serial killers, school shooters, rapists, pedophiles, white collar criminals, corrupt politicians, or anyone else who knowingly and intentionally commits wrongful acts. We are talking about those who caused harm or hurt through mistakes - unintentional speech or behavior which could have been seen and prevented, but was not, due to negligence on the part of the perpetrator.

The major take-away from the Sefer ha'Chinuch's explanation of this mitzvah may be stated as follows: If the Torah maintains that a person who mistakenly kills another human being through  negligence deserves compassion and protection from maltreatment, then certainly this would be true of a person who unintentionally caused emotional offense or hurt feelings. 

Does the Torah expect all Jews to be able to rise above the natural tendency to malign the wrongdoers in our midst? No. This is a difficult task and an uphill battle. Yet, the Torah does expect us to recognize "the upright path," and to acknowledge that it is possible for some of us to reach an exceedingly high level of compassion even towards those who committed the worst crime - taking another human life - provided that they didn't intend to cause harm.

Clearly there is a lot more to be discussed on the topic of how we ought to treat and feel about various types of wrongdoers and criminals. The best approach is to learn whatever we can from each Torah law, and strive to incorporate these lessons into the way we live. And even if we can't live up to the lofty ideals conveyed through these mitzvos, we should still take these lessons to heart to the degree that we are able, and continually aspire to better ourselves in accordance with the Torah's value system. 

* There are other mitzvos and other sources in the Torah which enlighten us as to how we should treat and feel about intentional murderers and other reshaim (evildoers). This topic is multifaceted, and is beyond the scope of this blog post. 

Parashas Chukas: Overlooking Sacrilegious Speech

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Artwork: Curse of Thirst, by Christopher Moeller

Parashas Chukas: Overlooking Sacrilegious Speech

To anyone who has read through Sefer Shemos and Sefer Bamidbar, it is apparent that Bnei Yisrael complain. A lot. On the surface, their complaints in this week's parashah seem to be harsh - not harsher than usual, but harsh nonetheless: 

The Children of Israel, the whole assembly, arrived at the Wilderness of Tzin in the first month and the people settled in Kadesh. Miriam died there and she was buried there. There was no water for the assembly, and they gathered against Moshe and Aharon. The people quarreled with Moshe and spoke up, saying, "If only we had perished as our brethren perished before Hashem! Why have you brought the congregation of Hashem to this wilderness to die there, we and our animals? And why did you bring us up from Egypt to bring us to this evil place? - not a place of seed, or fig, or grape, or pomegranate; and there is no water to drink!" (Bamidbar 20:1-5)

Sounds pretty bad, right? Not only do these statements reflect Bnei Yisrael's lack of bitachon (trust) and lack of hakaras ha'tov (gratitude), but they actually go so far as to accuse Moshe Rabbeinu of redeeming them from Egypt in order to kill them in the desert! 

One would expect Hashem to respond with a harsh punishment, as He has in many other cases, and to chastise them for speaking disparagingly about His greatest servant. After all, we saw what happened to Miriam when she said even the most slightly wrong thing about Moshe.

The astounding thing is that Bnei Yisrael aren't punished. In fact, they are given exactly what they ask for, without any indication of Divine wrath:

Hashem spoke to Moshe, saying, "Take the staff and gather together the assembly, you and Aharon your brother, and speak to the rock before their eyes that it shall give its waters. You shall bring forth for them water from the rock and give drink to the assembly and to their animals" (ibid. 20:7-8).

The question is: Why didn't Hashem punish them? What makes this instance of complaining different from the other cases in which Bnei Yisrael were punished? 

The Ralbag [1] answers in his summary of the toalos (lessons) we learn from the parashah:

The first lesson we learn [in this section is] in middos (character traits), namely, that it is not proper to excessively denigrate a person who makes inappropriate statements at a time of suffering and lack of strength. We see that when Israel suffered greatly because of thirst, and they were afraid they would die because of the severity of their thirst, they said harsh words against Moshe - and yet, we do not find that they were punished for this. Indeed, Hashem (exalted is He) gave them water.

According to the Ralbag, Hashem didn't punish Bnei Yisrael for their otherwise inappropriate statements because they were in a state of extreme suffering. In contrast, Bnei Yisrael's other complaints were not out of genuine distress. For example, the first time Bnei Yisrael complained about water, the pesukim make it clear that they were doing so in a quarrelsome manner, in order to test Hashem:

"The entire assembly of the Children of Israel journeyed from the Wilderness of Sin to their journeys, according to the word of Hashem. They encamped in Rephidim and there was no water for the people to drink. The people quarreled with Moshe and they said, 'Give us water that we may drink!' Moshe said to them, 'Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test Hashem?'" (Shemos 17:1-3). 

Another example is the first time Bnei Yisrael complain in Sefer Bamidbar the Torah says: "The people acted as complainers; it was evil in the ears of Hashem" (Bamidbar 11:1). The meforshim (commentators) explain that they weren't genuinely complaining out of any real need; rather, they were "acting like complainers" in order to test Hashem, or to rebel against Him. [2] 

Similarly, in the very next episode: "The mixed multitude that was among them cultivated a craving, and the Children of Israel also wept once more, and said, "Who will feed us meat?" The meforshim explain that the people initially didn't feel the need for meat. It was only when the mixed multitude awakened their desire that they complained to Hashem. 

In all three of these cases, Hashem did not tolerate their inappropriate speech. Punishment was swift and unequivocal. Why? Because in none of these cases did Bnei Yisrael's complaining stem from any genuine need or state of distress. 

It is important to note that the Ralbag categorizes this lesson as a lesson in middos (character traits) rather than a lesson in deos (knowledge of how Hashem operates). In other words, Hashem's willingness to overlook Bnei Yisrael's inappropriate speech should not be regarded "merely" as some abstract principle of metaphysics. Rather, it should be looked upon as one of Hashem's middos ha'rachamim (merciful modes of behavior), which we are commanded to emulate. [3] 

Whenever one comes across a lesson in middos, it is useful to think about specific ways in which it can be implemented in one's own life. As a high school teacher, I am often confronted by complaining teenagers. They complain about everything under the sun: homework, tests, school rules, teachers, administrators, field trips, student activities, parents, the weather, the temperature, Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton, Judaism, Jews, non-Jews ... the list goes on. Sometimes their negative remarks cross the border into the "inappropriate" or even the "prohibited" category. 

As was the case with Bnei Yisrael, most of my students' complaints are out of line. However, after reading this Ralbag, I realize that sometimes - on rare occasion - my students' negative remarks do come from a place of genuine pain, distress, or unjust treatment. When this happens, I am sometimes quick to lump these complaints into the general category of unwarranted teenage complaining. But I now realize that if I am to emulate the middos ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu, I should really take the care to discern the nature of their complaint. I must at least make the effort to see past the words they are saying and try to understand where these words are coming from. And if they are coming from a state of real suffering, then it might be correct to respond with merciful tolerance, as Hashem did with Bnei Yisrael. 

In highlighting this lesson in middos the Ralbag is reminding us of a derech in learning ethics from Chumash. Whenever we find ourselves confronted with a situation in which Hashem acts differently than the way we would be inclined to act, we must investigate the situation and strive to understand the wisdom and mercy in Hashem's approach, so that we may learn lessons from His conduct which we can apply to our own lives.

[1] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar, end of Parashas Chukas

[2] see Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi) and Rabbeinu Ovadiah Sforno on Bamibdar 11:1

[3] see Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha'Mada - Hilchos Deos Chapter 1