Showing posts with label chafetz chaim. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chafetz chaim. Show all posts

Friday, February 26, 2016

Thoughts on Psalm 34--Can we be nice already?

Rabbi Philip Weintraub
Ask the clergy

The last few weeks in my congregation have been filled with the hospice care, deaths, funerals, and mourning care of beloved congregants. As such, this column is in a different format.

A Jewish funeral includes the recitation of many psalms.  One that is frequently included is a selection from Psalm 34, from the New Jewish Publication Society translation, verses 13-15
“13Who is the man who is eager for life, who desires years of good fortune?
14 Guard your tongue from evil, your lips from deceitful speech.
15 Shun evil and do good, seek amity (peace/friendly relationships) and pursue it.”

As a member of the clergy, my work is spent helping people in liminal times, at those moments when we are neither here nor there, neither past nor future, but on the threshold.  Births, adolescence, weddings, divorces, aging, funerals are all part of my daily life.  Yet the business of a congregation also requires us to be in the present--which can create conflict over funding priorities, programs, maintenance, etc.

Amidst those very present conversations, I come back to this text again and again.  What does it mean to be a good person? How can we improve our relations to others?  It is really very simple--the golden rule, or according to Rabbi Hillel more than two thousand years ago “What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow: this is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation; go and learn.”  One place to learn that rule is from Psalm 34--in the way we speak to one another.

Many books have been written about proper speech, about not only avoiding gossip and lies, but also thinking how we encourage lies and gossip.  If I know that my best friend hates Trump or Clinton, sharing their accomplishments in front of them may open up a torrent of vile speech.  I am goading them into poor behavior.  That is not just unbecoming of them, it is also unbecoming of me.  I am complicit in their evil speech.

Looking around this city and this country, this election has brought for much vitriol, much anger, much evil speech.  Candidates have spoken blatant lies, hateful words and even encouraged violence against those who disagree with them.  Supporters have beaten up those they disagree with.

What can we do to lower the temperature?  We are and should be passionate about the details and policies and politics of our candidates.  We all want a country where the American Dream is alive and well, where everyone has a shot at a better life.  Most of us would like affordable access to medicine when we need it, shelter at night, enough food to eat, roads to drive on, safe bridges, education for our children and water free from lead or toxic chemicals.  People have different ideas about how large or small government needs to be to provide essential services. That is amazing.  We should not all agree on the methods, yet we should agree on respect.

Even if I disagree with everything that you say or believe in, I pray I can do it nicely.  Rather than letting my blood boil when someone shares racist tripe, I try to remember that they, too, are created in the image of the Holy One and deserve my love and respect.  

Returning to the Psalm, one way we can find civility again.  One way we can seek peace and friendly relationships is simply to speak kindly to one another.  This does not mean ignoring honesty.  We must find a way to be truthful AND kind.  We must find a way to bring love to our criticisms.  Only then can we truly work together to accomplish our shared goals.  Mourning the loss of my members, I am reminded of the importance of love for one another.  We are all in this together--no matter our backgrounds, our faiths or lack there of, our origin stories, our personal histories, or our politics!

I wish you all a week of peace!

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Are we talking about life or death?

The parshah entitled Hayay Sarah opens with the death of the title character.  It ends with the death of Avraham and the line of Ishmael.  In between we have the shidduch and marriage of Yitzhak and Rivkah.  One could go the easy route and say the parsha is named because the first significant words are “Hayay Sarah,” but I think there is more to the name.
As a people of books, of manuscripts, of letters, we are a people of words.  We have rules of how to speak to each other, of how to write to each other, and even what words we can use of each other.  The Hafetz Hayim’s fame began when he wrote a book on how best to speak to one another, how to prevent libel and even gossip.  In Pirkei Avot, we are taught that when we cite someone’s words b’shem omro, in the name of the person that spoke them, we bring about the redemption of the world.  Before the creation of copyright law, Hebrew books often had extensive curses on the one who might reprint material without the permission of the author or original publisher.  Words are important to Jews.
When we speak about death in Jewish communities, we often avoid the subject directly.  We might hear someone is “niftar” or has departed to their eternal home.  We speak of olam haba, the world to come, or Gan Eden, the Garden of Eden.  Cemeteries rarely have the word cemetery in them.  In some communities, they are called “Gates of Life” or some such euphemism (just as in the Talmud when it says an evil person is blessed, it really means cursed!)
In our parshah, twenty verses discuss the negotiation of a burial place for Sarah, but sixty-seven discuss the betrothal and wedding of Rivkah and Yitzhak.  I was reminded recently of the debate in the Talmud about when a funeral procession and a wedding procession meet at an intersection, who gets priority?  The answer is the wedding procession, just as it seems in this parshah--in Judaism, we spend our lives thinking about life, not death.
In my mind, the parshah was named deliberately, Hayay Sarah is about Sarah’s legacy.  It is about how the good she did during her life translated into the good of her children.  Her husband took care of her remains, lovingly, and then ensured that she lived on, by arranging Yitzhak’s marriage and ensuring grandchildren.
After Avraham ensured his son’s legacy, he looked towards his own happiness.  He married again and had more children, yet was careful to make sure that Yitzhak gained his actual inheritance, his spiritual legacy.  Rashi notes that his second wife was actually his first mistress, Hagar.  Perhaps she was renamed to demonstrate her new potential and new covenant with God, just like Avraham and Sarah.
It is telling that the penultimate section of the parshah is the temporary reunification of Yitzhak and Yishmael.  Having the two sons bury their father, together, demonstrates how death can interact with life, creating the family reunions that we neglect to plan.
Concluding with Yishmael’s descendants teaches that God’s promises are fulfilled.  Just as Yitzhak’s descendants complete God’s promises to Avraham, Yishmael’s descendants complete God’s promises to Hagar.
All in all, just as the parshah is entitled, we speak of life, not death.  This is truly for the best.
Over the last three weeks, I have discussed the practices and observance of Shabbat in a series of classes.  In the weeks, to come I will be meeting on Tuesday nights (with the exception of the Interfaith Thanksgiving, to look at some texts from the Talmud, to discover what Talmud is and to look at the intimate discussions and relationships which continue to shape our lives today.  Simply put, as Jews, even more than the Bible, the Talmud is the source that deals with our daily lives, and yet for many of us, it is a text with which we are almost wholly unfamiliar.  We are not biblical Jews, not Karaites, but rabbinic Jews.  Discussing EVERY subject under the sun from the ratio of pi, to whether it is ok to shave your body hair, to what sacrifices would we offer if the Temple were in existence, to love, marriage, divorce, what we eat, how to sleep, what to do with our lives and so on and so on and so on.  The debates reveal differing schools of thought on biblical interpretation and human interactions.  To give one powerful example we discussed over the last three weeks, the Torah says in the Ten Commandments Observe and Keep the Shabbat.  It tells us not to work on Shabbat or Festivals, yet never clearly defines what work is.  The Talmud then has two books entirely devoted to how one can keep Shabbat.  

In my rabbinate, what I strive to teach is that every moment is an opportunity for life and for Jewish choices.  Some people don’t quite follow the complicated debates of the Talmud. Why do they get so nitty gritty?  Why are they focused on every little detail?  Don’t they have anything better to do?  In my daily study I sometimes get bogged down with texts that seem less relevant to my life--yet I try to push on.  Why?  Because what the rabbis were doing was struggling with all of the big questions.  Life isn’t lived just in the theoretical.  It’s lived in all of the individual daily moments--the crazy moments, the good moments, the bad moments.  The moments when we hear bad news and the ones where we celebrate.  Life is the nitty gritty.  I invite you to join with me in the next few weeks--argue with me and we will learn together!

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Kol Nidre 2015

Rabbi Philip Weintraub
Congregation Agudas Israel
9/22/15 (5776)
Kol Nidre: Holiness of Mundane in Human relationships

Before I start another sermon with a joke, I want to add a brief follow-up to my second day Rosh Hashanah sermon.  I spoke about the miracles and challenges of Israel and challenged you to come with me next May.  The flyers are at the table with your nametags and deposits are being accepted starting Thursday!  Now, to the humor:
A rabbi, a priest and a minister are fishing, sitting on a little boat in the middle of a lake.  After a little while, the rabbi says, “I think I need a soda.” So he walks across the lake and grabs a drink from his picnic basket on shore.  A few minutes later, the priest says “I could really use my sandwich,” so he walks across the lake and grabs a bite from his picnic basket.  The minister is absolutely amazed at this and decides to try it out.  He excuses himself to use the restroom, takes a step off the boat and starts splashing about in the water.  The rabbi turns to the priest and says, “Should we have told him about the stepping stones?”

What does it mean to be a community?  In the last few years, United Synagogue has stopped calling its member congregations congregations.  Instead they call them kehillot, communities.  We strive to be a kehillah kedoshah, a holy community, where we look out for one another, support one another, help in times of need and celebrate each other's simchas.  The rabbi and priest in my joke would have been a lot nicer had they just told the minister where the steps were!

As a community, we keep each other in the loop.  If someone is sick, we check in on them.  Hopefully I am told.  Every month in the bulletin I write that sometimes it is ok to gossip.  I would rather hear that someone is ill three times than not hear at all. While many value their privacy, I cannot offer a prayer, cannot visit, if I do not know in the first place!  Creating and growing a community is dependent on our interconnectedness.

One of the aspects of this shul that I love is the feeling of community.  In the last few years, I can think of quite a few moments where we really did things right.  When “my girls” had their bat mitzvah, so many of you came to support, that it looked like Yom Kippur--although the kiddush was a heck of alot better.  Together they worked with me for quite awhile (and continue to do so) and when we celebrated their accomplishments people really showed up.  At bar mitzvahs of some of the young people of this congregation, the same spirit was found.  There is a great energy in this room when we truly come together.  When my daughter was born we found that same energy at her naming.  Celebrating her birth with so many of you, we discovered the love that is in this community.  We pray for many more such occasions in the future!

On the other side of things, when we have lost members and friends, we have never been short for a shiva minyan.  Even when members had been less active in their later years, shiva minyanim have been well attended.  While it would be nice if more people attended some of those funerals, I spoke this week with a recent widow and she shared how touched she was with those from way back who came to attend her husband’s funeral and shiva.

Just this past week I had another moment of celebration.  I was talking to one of our co-presidents, recovering from back surgery.  He said, “Did you tell everyone to call me? I heard from him and her and her and him to see how I was doing?”  I said, “It wasn’t me.  They are doing it on their own.”  In that moment, if I can pat myself on the back, I realized that my teachings and sermons are truly sinking in!

As a rabbi, as a chaplain, the lesson that I have really learned is “just show up”.  This lesson does not apply only to me.  Your presence is what makes or breaks an event.  It is what changes a class from me talking to myself to a spirited discussion.  Your physical self in this room transforms a service from personal prayer to a minyan. Your presence at a funeral, a shiva, in the home of someone who doesn’t get out much can provide so much support.  

When you visit someone who is ill your presence can actually help to heal!  Tractate Bava Metzia teaches that visiting the ill removes 1/60th of the illness!  This isn’t to say that you just need sixty visitors, as the Talmud and later commentators advise not overwhelming people, not arriving at the same time as the doctor, and giving people with intestinal distress more space so that they are not embarrassed by their noises and odors. With those caveats, the rabbis understood that just showing up is incredibly powerful for people.  Even if there is nothing “to do”, keeping a family member company can be a major source of consolation in a difficult time.  Don’t worry too much about saying the wrong thing, but try to give the person you are visiting space to talk.  Try listening more than speaking and then you won’t say anything you regret!  (That is a good lesson not just in a hospital, but in a shiva home, or in many conversations!)

Now that I’ve just said presence is more important than words, let me remind you that what and how we say does matter, too. The way we speak to one another, what we choose to say, and where we choose to say those words are all incredibly important and should reflect our values.  We must be careful of the words we choose, not just in a hospital, but in all situations.

There is a famous story elsewhere in Bava Metzia (84a) about Rabbi Yochanan and Reish Lakish, two famous scholars.  Rabbi Yochanan was known for his great beauty, which helped to inspire Reish Lakish to drop his first profession (as a leader of bandit and thieves) and become a Jewish scholar!  Rabbi Yochanan taught Reish Lakish Torah for years; they became very close, chevrutas, study partners and friends.  

This close friendship was broken one day when their normally spirited arguments of details of Jewish law took a personal turn.  Discussing swords and weapons, Rabbi Yochanan believed that the manufacturing of a sword was complete when it was tempered in an oven.  Reish Lakish said it was not complete until it had been cooled in water after that heating.  They debated for awhile until Rabbi Yochanan said, “you were once a bandit, so you are the expert on swords.”  Reish Lakish was broken hearted and replied “If you still think of me as a bandit, what did you ever do for me?”  Rabbi Yochanan replied “What did I do for you?  I reformed your ways.  I brought you under God’s protection.  How dare you not appreciate this!”  The two men departed, both deeply offended and personally hurt by the other's reaction.  Reish Lakish was so upset, and so crushed internally, that he fell ill, and eventually died because of it.
One might think the story is over there.  Yet the lesson continues with the reminder that even deep relationships can be irreparably harmed by harsh words and hurt feelings.  The narrative continues:
Rabbi Yochanan was upset and grieved greatly for his departed friend.  The other Rabbis saw this and wanted to pick him up.  They knew that Rabbi Yochanan was at his happiest when he was studying with Reish Lakish, so they began a search to find the most brilliant scholar they could, and would pair the two together as new study partners.  They found a tremendously bright student, who for every teaching Rabbi Yochanan would bring, would give a long list of reasons why he was correct.  But this did nothing for Rabbi Yochanan.  "I don't need this," he said.  "What I need is for you to tell me why I am wrong.  That is what made Reish Lakish so special.  That for every teaching I brought, he would tell me 24 reasons why I was wrong.  It was through that discussion and that debate, that we each came to see the other's viewpoint, and together we were able to finally learn what a correct answer might be."

In our tradition, arguing is important.  Disagreements are important.  Yet, we have to be aware of HOW we are arguing.  We must do so with respect, with love with kindness.  Showing respect applies even in board meetings and financial discussions!  We must remember that from our tradition, from our Talmud, public embarrassment is seen as a cardinal sin.

While I could give you several sources,  Bava Kamma 90a gives several examples of huge fines for seemingly minor physical confrontations.
. צרם באזנו, תלש בשערו, רקק והגיע בו רוקו, העביר טליתו ממנו, פרע ראש האשה בשוק נותן לו ארבע מאות זוז

4) If he tore at his ear, plucked out his hair, spat at him and his spit touched him, or pulled his cloak from off him, or loosed a woman’s hair in the street, he must pay 400 zuz.
Dr Josh Kulp of the Conservative Yeshiva writes;
“These types of blows will probably not cause any damage and therefore the fines are for embarrassment only...They demonstrate that Jewish law takes publicly embarrassing another person very seriously and penalizes such a person with a stiff financial penalty.  Indeed according to Jewish tradition one who publicly embarrasses another is akin to a murderer. “ http://learn.conservativeyeshiva.org/2014/05/bava-kamma-chapter-eight-mishnah-six/

Dr. Kulp also teaches about of Bava Metzia 58b-59a where we learn
that one who publicly shames his neighbor, it’s equivalent to murdering him; wronging someone verbally/publicly is worse than robbing him; better to have potentially (but not actually) adulterous relationship that to publicly shame his neighbor AND finally, better to throw oneself into a fiery furnace than embarrass someone!  

On that note,
[Check the age of the room]:
A rabbi, a priest and a minister are playing golf together.  As they get to the third hole, the rabbi says to the priest, “celibacy, hmm,  Really, forever?”  The priest says, “well, almost, there was this one time.”  Around the ninth hole, the priest says to the minister, “I know that your denomination doesn’t allow gambling, but have you ever played the lottery?”  The minister replies, “Well, there was that one time our convention was in Vegas.  I put a nickel in the slot machine and won $100.  You are the first people I’ve ever told.”  Just as they were getting ready to play the last hole, the two of them look at the rabbi and say, “do you have any vices?”  The rabbi looks a little sheepish and the says, “I do love a great story.  I’m trying to figure out who I want to tell these to first!”  

Again, the rabbi in this joke isn’t the nicest guy.  I wouldn’t want to go to a bar with him!  Jewish values would teach him to keep his mouth shut.  While there are certain exemptions to rules of gossip--ie letting me know if someone is ill so I can visit, sharing information that would stop a bad marriage or a bad business deal, we are not to speak ill of people maliciously or unnecessarily.  

Rabbi Israel Meir HaCohen Kagan, who lived a hundred years ago, was an incredibly important and influential rabbi who focused on ethical teachings.  He was an ethicist, a halachic judge, (posek) whose commentary on the Shulchan Aruch, the Mishneh Brurah, is authoritative in many circles today.  In Jewish parlance, an author is called not by his name, but by his most important work.  He is not generally known as the Mishneh Brurah, but as the Chofetz Chaim, which was his work about pure speech, refraining from gossip, and all the laws and customs surrounding that issue.  His teachings there, reminding us to be extremely cautious about how we speak about others, overshadows his authoritative book on Jewish Law.  This tremendously popular and pious rabbi continues to be referenced as his seminal work, even as he was a prolific author!  His books on shmirat ha’lashon, guarding the tongue remain in print and online as primary sources today.  (On a side note, if you’d like to study them with me, I’m glad to do so!) As we enter into a day of contemplation, let us strive that the year to come will include far more positive speech!  What does it say about Jewish tradition that his book about talking respectfully is even more well known than his book about the entirety of Jewish law.

Ignoring my jokes, I can boil down this sermon to three lines:
  1. The way to be a community is to show up for one another.
  2. To be a holy community, we need to think about what we say to one another.
  3. Being nice, not embarrassing one another is the hallmark of being a good Jew.

May these points remain with you not just tomorrow, but every day this year. We have so much to celebrate here, let us continue to work for the positive! L’shanah tovah.