The Practice of Empathy

There’s an old saying that “hurt people, hurt people”—but what about healed people? What do they do? This week’s Torah portion offers a compelling answer.

In the Portion of Numbers, read this Shabbat called Beha’alotecha, we meet a tense moment in the desert: Miriam, Moshe’s sister and longtime partner-in-prophecy, speaks lashon hara—gossip—about her brother behind his back. We’re not told exactly why. Was it jealousy? A moment of pettiness? A sincere concern poorly expressed? The Torah doesn’t elaborate. But it does make one thing clear: her words carry consequences.

Miriam is stricken with tzara’at, cast out of the camp, and forced into isolation. And then—just when we might expect Moshe to withdraw or say, “She had it coming”—he does something breathtaking. Without anyone asking him to, without a hint of bitterness, Moshe turns to God and offers a brief, beautiful prayer on her behalf:

וַיִּצְעַק מֹשֶׁה אֶל־יְהֹוָה לֵאמֹר אֵל נָא רְפָא נָא לָהּ׃

vai-yitz-AK mo-SHEH el a-do-NAI lay-MOR: el NA ra-FA NA lah

So Moshe cried out to Hashem, saying, “O Hashem, pray heal her!”

Just five Hebrew words. No flourish, no dramatic buildup. A quiet, urgent plea for healing. In this moment, Moshe demonstrates what true leadership looks like: not only vision and strength, but also radical empathy.

It would have been easy for Moshe to let her suffer in silence. But he chose to see her pain, not her offense. He chose the relationship over the hurt. He chose compassion.

We may not often find ourselves in situations quite so charged, but the opportunity to practice Moshe’s brand of empathy is all around us—if we know where to look.

Three Everyday Practices for Cultivating Empathy:

1. Pause Before Judgment
At the grocery store, a parent is struggling with a toddler melting down in the cereal aisle. It’s easy to avert your gaze or silently judge. But what if you softened your internal dialogue? Try thinking: “This must be so hard. I hope today gets easier for them.” That moment of silent solidarity is a quiet prayer—one Moshe would recognize.

2. Respond to Suffering, Even When It’s Distant
You’re driving and hear an ambulance siren blaring down the street. Instead of tuning it out, pause and say to yourself: “I hope whoever needs help is okay. May they be surrounded by the right people.” It seems small, but these internal acts of recognition train our hearts to respond to pain instead of recoiling from it.

3. Bless the People You Love
Start a quiet tradition of offering small, intentional blessings to those around you. A note in a lunchbox. A message before a big meeting. A whispered “may your day be easy” before someone leaves the house. Practicing empathy doesn’t always mean responding to pain. Sometimes it just means noticing others—and loving them on purpose.

Empathy is not a reaction. It’s a discipline. A spiritual muscle we build by paying attention, by choosing curiosity over judgment, by recognizing the humanity in others even when they’ve let us down.

Moshe’s prayer teaches us that healing can begin with just a few heartfelt words. So can connection. So can love.