The greater a person is, the stronger his "evil inclination" becomes, the more he will want to misuse it or deny deny that greatness.

http://www.torah.org/learning/pirkei-avos/chapter2-5c.html

High Stakes Life

"Hillel said, do not separate from the community, do not trust yourself until the day you die, do not judge your friend until you reach his place, do not make a statement which cannot be understood which will (only) later be understood, and do not say when I have free time I will learn, lest you do not have free time."

Last week we discussed Hillel's second principle - that we not trust ourselves till the day we die. As we explained, one should never feel so smug and holy in his accomplishments that he will never again slip. Not only will old challenges always return to haunt him, but he will have to grapple with the Talmud's principle that the greater a person is, the stronger his "evil inclination" becomes (Sukkah 52a). We spent some time discussing and illustrating this concept. The greater a person is, the more strongly he will feel about his beliefs. And the more a person is convinced he is right, the more fanatically he will pursue his course of action. Such people can accomplish far more than the rest of us. They are believers, they are committed, and they are prepared to make sacrifices for what they hold sacred. If, however, their beliefs become ever so slightly corrupted, they become capable of the most awesome and terrible evil. When a man convinces himself he is acting in the name of G-d, anything goes. He can justify the most wicked and irreligious behavior because he is certain of his own sincerity and that this is just what G-d wants.

It's been said that the greatest crimes against humanity have been committed in the name of religion. There are certainly many who hide manifest wickedness behind the banner of religion. But many of us do precisely the same in a far more subtle manner. Say I dislike someone. For most of us it would probably just simmer in our hearts and end with that. If, however, I convince myself that *G-d* doesn't like him - that he is not pious enough and that he has all sorts of religious faults - then it's a *mitzvah* (good deed) to hate him -- and he's fair game. The higher our own religious standards, the easier (and more tempting) it will be to find fault with others not so righteous. The more religious and sure of ourselves we are, the more we will justify - and will be forced to justify - our behavior and convince ourselves of our sincerity. Trouble really begins when people know they are right.

Thus, our lesson: Great people have enormous potential. And sometimes the slightest alteration in course can turn it into awe-inspiring good or devastating evil.

And this is a lesson we must all carry with us. We all have just a little bit of greatness within us, some special and unique talents G-d has blessed us with, with which we can make our own unique contribution to mankind. And those are the talents we must preserve and treasure. It is so easy and tempting to corrupt it all - to take whatever we are good at and look down upon others or selfishly use what we have for our own benefit or pleasure. Or perhaps worst of all: we will attempt to deny it. The greater we are, the more we will want to misuse it all. But these are the special gifts G-d has bequeathed to us, our own potential for greatness. And they must be nurtured and treasured till the day we die.

Not judging your fellow until you reach his place implies we should basically never judge our fellow. No two people are truly alike - neither in background nor in disposition. We never really know what our fellow is going through or what contributed to his poor life-decision. We must attempt to help and guide others, but we must never wholly condemn them simply because *we* would have never acted that way. (And, of course, recall what we just learned - that sometimes a person's very greatness compels him to misuse or deny that greatness.)

"Do not make a statement which cannot be understood which will [only] later be understood:" This statement is obscure, and different explanations are offered by the commentators. Maimonides understands this to be a warning that teachers do not teach in an unclear manner, so that their words are understood only later, after careful analysis. Rashi and Rabbeinu Yonah explain it to mean one should never divulge secrets. As King Solomon wrote, "for a bird of the skies will carry the voice" (Koheles (Ecclesiastes) 10:20). As we all know, words, rumors, secrets all spread. There is virtually no such thing as telling "just one person" while keeping it a secret.