Tazria Metzora--Empathy, Medicine and OUR Rabbinical Assembly

Rabbi Philip Weintraub

Congregation Agudas Israel

4/29/17

Twenty years ago, I stood in front of Congregation Beth Shalom in Dunwoody, GA, with family and friends.  I read from the Torah, led the services, and shared words of Torah.  I suppose one might say not much has changed in the last twenty years!  Standing on that bimah I spoke about Parshat Tazria,  I still have not found my bar mitzvah speech.  I wonder if I spoke to the dermatologists in the audience or focused on the rabbinic relation to motzi shem ra, to evil speech.  I had two powerful experience this week relating to the parsha, that I would like to share with you all.

First is related to the parsha directly.  I read from my friend and colleague, Rabbi Noah Farkas.  He wrote in the LA Jewish Journal about how this parsha teaches empathy. (http://jewishjournal.com/culture/religion/torah_portion/218359/parshat-tazria-metzora-burden-gift-empathy/) He opened with a necessary theological apology.  SPeaking of this rabbinic connection between behavior and illness, he wrote of how so many feel guilt, that they somehow deserve their illness, and argued that we must break this link.  “When we graft morality too heavily onto purity and wellness, we cause more suffering while ignoring the sanctity of the sick. To be unclean is not to be immoral — ever.”  When I stand in a hospital room, I am reminded of this over and over again.  Illness comes to young and old, to innocent and guilty, to good and not so good people.   While there are some illnesses that are a consequence of past choices, they are still not punishment for sins in other parts of our life.  We may CHOOSE to try to gain strength from the suffering, but it does not mean the suffering is a consequence of our actions.  Rabbi Farkas has a Jewish bio-medical ethics group with doctors and wrote of the parallels between our modern doctors and the priests of old.  He reminds us that empathy is a necessity for medical care.  “After the priest sees them and welcomes them back to the community, a sacrificial rite is performed. The patient is brought to the literal center of the community and anointed in the same manner with the same rituals that anoint the High Priest over the people. Both priest and patient are bound together in this ritual of mutuality.” I think that as mechanized and technologicized (I may have made up that word) as medicine has become, the human connection is essential.  Some medical schools even have mock patient scenarios as part of their interviews to weed out potential doctors who have absolutely no bedside manner!  

Dovetailing with those words of Torah, were words I heard on Thursday at the Rabbinical Assembly’s Executive Council meeting.  I went perhaps unethusiastically.  How could I miss our annual meeting?  How could I be away from our community to think about the needs of the RA.  What is the purpose of the RA for me?  Yet after just a few hours, I saw great holiness.  I heard powerful Torah.  I saw an organization that is looking carefully at its past and future.  Like our congregation, the RA is over 100 years old.  Like us, it has people that are more and less connected, wondering about what comes next.

Over the two days I was at the Pearlstone Retreat Center (http://pearlstonecenter.org), we carefully considered a proposal from a Texan rabbi.  We went through a huge agenda and made significant progress.  We even changed our meeting structure for the future.  Rather than going through a standard agenda, our future meetings will only have action items.  If it is just a report, we will read it before the meeting.  Those reports will include follow-ups to ensure that previous items are dealt with.  This is called a consent agenda--we consent that we can group those reports into one agenda item and quickly move on to the things that matter!  The second day was follow-up on the RA’s strategic plan.  The last two years the board and another 30-60 rabbis have been heavily involved in considering what the RA has been successful at and what is essential for its future.  The biggest change may seem small, but has been to change the language.  Instead of saying THE RA as I just did, it is calling it OUR RA. When we speak of OUR RA, we are claiming ownership.  We remind ourselves and those around us that we are a part of that organization.  How would that work for us?  We might speak of OUR shul instead of THE shul.  Our Agudas Israel instead of just CAI.  Our home instead of just Kol.  

Returning the parsha, I want to share a verse that was mentioned in a Dvar Torah yesterday.  Vayikra 13:3 says:

וְרָאָ֣ה הַכֹּהֵ֣ן אֶת־הַנֶּ֣גַע בְּעֽוֹר־הַ֠בָּשָׂר וְשֵׂעָ֨ר בַּנֶּ֜גַע הָפַ֣ךְ ׀ לָבָ֗ן וּמַרְאֵ֤ה הַנֶּ֙גַע֙ עָמֹק֙ מֵע֣וֹר בְּשָׂר֔וֹ נֶ֥גַע צָרַ֖עַת ה֑וּא וְרָאָ֥הוּ הַכֹּהֵ֖ן וְטִמֵּ֥א אֹתֽוֹ.

׃The priest shall examine the affection on the skin of his body: if hair in the affected patch has turned white and the affection appears to be deeper than the skin of his body, it is a leprous affection; when the priest sees it, he shall pronounce him unclean

As my colleagues noted, it is strange that the priest seems to examine or look at the person or irritation twice.  The question is the focus of the second look.  Before declaring the person clean or unclean, the priest must look at the WHOLE person.  Like every hospital and medical practice claims today, they must not just look at the illness, but the entire person.  Doctors, nurses and our ancient priests recognize that the illness is not in isolation. It is not just a skin infection.  It is on a human being.  That person has needs, wants, hopes, dreams.  That person lives in their economic, social, religious context.  If the doctor sees only the irritation, she cannot do her job.  

This is a major challenge of the economics of medicine today, when doctors are required by their employers to see far too many patients.  They have no time to be patient and to do their job well are often forced to work extra unpaid hours to deal with their paperwork and computers.  While I cannot claim to have a solution for that issue, our Torah reminds us that it is a problem!  So as I declare the importance of empathy FROM the medical professions, let us also have have empathy FOR the medical professions.  They, too, are people who must have lives and possibilities.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rosh Hashanah Day 2: What does Kindness have to do with Jewish life

Rabbi Philip Weintraub

Congregation Agudas Israel

October 4, 2016

Where does kindness fit into a Jewish life?

A few weeks ago I was driving my daughter to camp.  As we were travelling down 9W, we passed a man with a sign on the corner asking for work or food.  Suddenly she is shouting at me.

H: Why is he standing there?

P: Because he is hungry and is looking for someone to give him food or money or work.

H: Can we give him some of our money?

P: That's very nice of you. On my way back from taking you to camp, I'll stop at Dunkin Donuts and get him a sandwich or donut and a drink. What do you think? Should I get a sandwich, donut or both?

H: Donut!

P: I think I'll get both. I'm not sure a donut by itself is a healthy breakfast.

And that's how I met George.

I wish I could tell you that George is now gainfully employed or no longer on that corner, but I have only seen him and said hi to him once more.

One of the most repeated verses in our Torah is a command to care for those less fortunate, in Biblical language, the widow, the orphan, the stranger. Thinking about this lesson, makes me consider the lessons we try to teach our families, the legacies we create.

For many, an ethical will is a powerful tool, giving them an opportunity to write about their values, to think about their values, to share their values.  On November 1, I will invite you to join me for that moving activity.  Yet, what do we do on a daily basis to teach our loved ones our values?  What lessons do we wish our children, our grandchildren, our students and friends to know?  What is the legacy we wish to teach?

Central to that legacy, is to be a good person, a mentsch, maybe even a tzaddik, a righteous person.  We strive to be the best selves that we can, to use every resource we have to live our best lives.  And yet, I fear that too often we accidentally teach the lesson that the “one with the most toys wins”?  (Says the one desiring the new iphone and enjoying his new previous generation apple watch!)  Like all of us, I know that I have work to do!

This morning we read one of the most traumatic parenting stories of the Torah: The Akedah, Abraham binding his son on the altar, even lifting the knife to sacrifice his son, with only the angels repeated call, “Abraham, Abraham” stopping him and bringing him back from the brink.  In our history, in times of martyrdom, and anti-Jewish violence, there are even tales that rewrite the story, claiming Isaac WAS sacrificed and then resurrected.  However we read it, it is a central piece of the Jewish and Abrahamic tradition--that Abraham showed his faith in God--in his own symbolic Father--and was willing to sacrifice his child for the greater good.  We might imagine that few of us would make the same choice, yet we all do every single year.  We know that our country needs protection, a military.  We know that serving can lead to sacrifice, but those sacrifices ensure our freedom and every year there are new volunteers.  Personally, I attempt to express my appreciation for those who have served, while knowing thanks alone is inadequate.  

We want to teach our children that there are some ideals for which we would be willing to give up our lives for. How do we determine what those ideals are?

From the Jewish perspective, we have a tremendous gift, we have the history, the traditions, the blessings of our faith.  Yesterday I mentioned the questions we are asked in heaven--the idea that actions have consequences!  Judaism has numerous sacred texts.  From the Torah to the Talmud, to rabbinic writings in every generation, we are part of a chain of tradition to Sinai and beyond.  We read the stories of our ancestors over and over again.  We hafoch ba v hafoch ba, turn them over and over and discover new meanings and lessons for every generation.  Yet for so many today, Judaism seems a distant memory.  Of course, if you are in this room, on this sacred day, you feel a pull, yet what is the daily connection?  

My challenge to you is take one day and see how you spend your time.  What do you spend the most time on?  What the least?  What do you REALLY prioritize?  Do your goals and desires match how you actually use your time?

Once we know how we really spend our time, then we can make the changes that we would like.  We know the spaces in our day, the places where we have flexibility.  Looking at my own day, I know facebook is a useful tool to communicate with you, yet it can easily become a black hole of lost productivity.  The iPhone I use to text you and email can create a false sense of connection and break my attention from the ones in front of me, the faces of God that you are, that my wife and children are.  For that I publicly apologize,  I know that I have made progress, but there is still work to do!

The miracle of Jewish life is that it can fit into all those little spaces.  We can do ten minutes of Torah instead of ten minutes of our iphones.  We can pray for three minutes instead of another three minutes of facebook.  The very devices that can be our sources of distraction can also be sources of inspiration and connection.  There is more Torah on the internet than existed before.  One can easily argue that there are more people studying Torah today than there were in the shtetls!  

Every morning, when we give ourselves the chance of blessing our study of Torah,  we can read the following passage in our Siddur:

“There are the deeds that yield immediate fruit (benefit) and continue to yield fruit in time to come: honoring parents; doing deeds of loving kindness; attending the house of study in a timely way morning and evening; providing hospitality; visiting the sick; helping a needy bride; attending to the dead; investigating (the meaning of) prayer; making shalom between one person and another (and between a husband and wife,  some add).  The most basic of these deeds which has an inclusive nature is the study of Torah.” based on Shabbat 127a

Each of these encourages us to treat others well, to ensure they are fed and clothed, but they also have an introspective reminder as well, to give ourselves time to be spiritually nourished.  We may find moments of tranquility in our yoga or meditation, our time in the mountains or at the beach, looking at great art or reading inspiring works of fiction and fact, yet as Jews, we have all this and more.  We have the gift of community, of Torah and its deep reminders of the value of our time.

Thinking about the gift of time, I think about how we use ours.  Most of the time, we are generally decent people.  We give what we can to charity, to the synagogue.  We are nice to most people.  We try to respect one another, yet sometimes we forget the most important gift we have--time.  For many, Shabbat can be the most classic reminder of this sacred gift.  Giving ourselves even a taste of Shabbat, a Shabbat dinner or an hour at synagogue reminds us that the world is always turning, but we do not have to be.  In popular culture, I think of the music of Harry Chapin, who in 1974 put his wife, Sandy’s poem, to music:

the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon

Little boy blue and the man on the moon

When you comin' home, Dad

I don't know when, but we'll get together then

You know we'll have a good time then

As the lyrics return to you, you may remember the story of a father too busy to play with son.  The son ages, comes home from college, doesn’t have time for his dad and then eventually dad, now grandpa wants to see his grandchildren and his son has no time for him.  Basically it is every parent’s nightmare in one song with a catchy tune.

The song’s closing line:

“And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me, he'd grown up just like me./ My boy was just like me.”

Yet what the song teaches so clearly, is that while our children and grandchildren may listen to us--especially when we would prefer they don’t!--what they really learn from is the choices we make--how we use our time.

The choices we make are always on view.  It’s not just what we share on facebook.  How we spend our time is seen by those we love and those we know.  Intuitively we know children are always watching, always listening, yet we forget over and over again (until they tell Aunt Jeannie, that Mom said she’s a bad driver!).  It is a simple lesson that needs frequent repetition--live the life we want to teach.  If we want to teach that something is important, we have to live like it is! The way we spend our time often demonstrates our values. If I really wanted to go to the gym, I’d stop whining about it and I’d actually go!

I recently skimmed through a book whose title I can’t entirely repeat here: The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life.  

“What pain do you want to sustain?” The quality of your life is not determined by the quality of your positive experiences but the quality of your negative experiences. And to get good at dealing with negative experiences is to get good at dealing with life.

If we can teach our children how to deal when things don’t go right, when they fail, when we fail, then they can discover their and our true characters--hopefully it is one filled with kindness, with respect, with love!

The lessons I have shared this morning seem intuitive.  They seem obvious, yet they are the lessons that need the most reinforcement.  Even the sunniest of people sometimes need a reminder to pause, think and be kind before responding.  Even the most charitable among us must remember why we give.  Even the most cynical among us can learn to see the gifts of faith.  Even the busiest among us know that time is a gift.  

Today I have asked perhaps too many questions.  I have mused on priorities and the centrality of Judaism to our lives.  I have considered what it means to be a Jewish parent and how we determine what is a principle worth dying for.  While these Days of Awe may seem time-limited, our tradition teaches us that every single day is an opportunity to reflect and consider. Pirkei Avot 2:11 says “Rabbi Eliezer would say: The honor of your fellow should be as precious to you as your own, and do not be easy to anger. Repent one day before your death”.  If you remember nothing else from my words today: We always have another day to change our ways--even unto our last day!  

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!

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.