Curiosity is a powerful relationship tool. We think we know someone else, we think we understand their motives, and we would like to believe we are right and know better. Yet, if we maintain a more curious attitude, especially when we feel frustrated or angry instead of becoming judgmental and indignant, we can turn difficult moments into learning and growth.

The Gemara on Amud Aleph relates a story involving the great sages Rav and Shmuel, and how they reacted to behavior from a colleague whom they thought overstepped his bounds whom they believed improperly permitted a woman to remarry:

הָהוּא גַּבְרָא דִּטְבַע בְּאַגְמָא דְסַמְקֵי, אַנְסְבַהּ רַב שֵׁילָא לִדְבֵיתְהוּ. אֲמַר לֵיהּ רַב לִשְׁמוּאֵל, תָּא נְשַׁמְּתֵיהּ. אֲמַר לֵיהּ: נִשְׁלַח לֵיהּ בְּרֵישָׁא.

There was a certain man who drowned in the lake in a place called Samkei. Rav Sheila allowed his wife to marry based on the testimony of witnesses who saw that he entered the water and did not emerge. Rav said to Shmuel: Come, let us excommunicate him for having issued this ruling. Shmuel said to him: Let us first send him a message and clarify whether he had a sufficient reason to issue this ruling.

Rav was ready to assume the worst about this rabbi and was going to excommunicate him. Shmuel advised him to directly enquire about the circumstances before taking action. As it turned out, the rabbis intentions were good and he did not mean to subvert the halakha, though he did make an error. Later, Rav expressed thanks to Shmuel for advising him to be more restrained in his approach.

In the clinical literature, there is an idea known as compassionate curiosity, where you try to engage in open and non-judgmental questioning about behavior that you might otherwise consider offensive or disturbing. There are numerous examples of this in our traditional literature such as this Gemara. Another example comes from Gemara Nedarim (66b), which is the ancient Palestinian version of “Amelia Bedelia”:

She was a simple but devout woman, and had difficulty comprehending the difference between her husband’s dialect and hers leading to numerous frustrating encounters. Perhaps, she was what we would call today, “On the spectrum”, in that she might have been too literal. As the story goes, one time her husband asked for botzina (melon) and she gave him lamps, which is what botzina meant in her Palestinian dialect of Aramaic. Her husband became furious and declared that she should smash the lamps on the bava (doorpost). As fate would have it, a prominent sage was passing through town who was named Bava the son of Buta. She promptly smashed the lamps on his head.

You could imagine the scene. A great sage, publicly humiliated with oil and ash from the lamp dripping down his head and clothes in front of his entourage of students and followers. Bava ben Buta calmly inquires, “What’s this about?” The woman proceeds to tell him her story, and Bava ben Buta, realized she was a simple, devout woman merely trying to follow her husband’s bidding. He then blesses her and sends her on her way. The Talmud tells us that as a result of this blessing she merited to have two sons who became great sages and tzaddikim. Bava ben Buta had every right to be furious, but instead he was curious. 

Another great example comes from Tanach. After Adam and Chava ate from the Tree of Knowledge, the scripture tells us they hid from God out of shame. When God's presence seeks them out, He queries, “Where are you?”, and “Did you eat from the forbidden tree?” Rashi notes (Genesis 3:9) that of course God knew where Adam and Chava were and what they did. God simply engaged them in this manner to open dialogue, without overwhelming them. This gave Adam a chance to compose himself and gather his thoughts, even to have the opportunity to repent. 

Rashi (ibid 16:8) notes a similar rhetorical process in regard to the angel who encountered Hagar; he engaged Hagar in conversation and asked where she came from and where she was going — even though he knew full well what was going on. After all, he was an Angel sent on a mission to intercept her, so how could he not know?

Aside from teaching the value of engaging people in conversation so they are not overwhelmed, there is an additional insight into the importance of curiosity. The verses offer many examples whereby if not for curiosity, opportunities would have been missed. Moshe saw a burning bush and wonders what it is, and decides to turn toward it and find out more. If he was too busy tending his flock he might have ignored and missed his calling. Yosef asks his prison mates why they seem to be upset. They only relate their dreams to him after his compassionate inquiry. In both situations, curiosity led to redemption and salvation.

Especially when we are angered, and especially in relationships, if we can learn to adopt curiosity as our first reaction instead of fury, we can grow and understand, instead of punish and humiliate.