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:
- The way to be a community is to show up for one another.
- To be a holy community, we need to think about what we say to one another.
- 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.
