Shavuot is long over. Many have finished their 49-step-program to self improvement that began with Omer-counting from Passover to the night before Shavuot. Many used this time period to study the oral teachings of Pirke Avot, the Teachings, Chapters, or has been traditionally called, Ethics of the Fathers. I hope for all reading this, that this period was a constructive one and that it will only lead to continued soul searching and personal growth.
One classic mishnah - teaching - from Pirke Avot (I:6) mentions the obligation for every person to appoint a rav, or teacher/master; to acquire (actually purchase) a chaver, a friend or perhaps learning partner; and to judge the entirety of a person favorably (typically mistranslated as "to judge everyone favorably").
I've thought much about the difference between a rav and chaver and generally feel that it is one of empowerment. As the mishnah says, one should appoint a rav. In other words, the rav is your teacher or master only through your taking the initiative. (Is this similar to our relationship of God as King?)
A friend, by comparison, may not need such appointments. We acquire a friend through our actions, by extending ourselves or committing ourselves to supporting the relationship. The difference, I believe, is that a rav should not insert himself into a person's life without the appointment, or invitation so-to-speak. (Simply put, a rav cannot answer a sh'eilah, a legal question, without being asked.) A friend, on the other hand, may butt in without being asked and go so far as to impose his or her opinion. This personal interferance happens by virtue of their commitment to each other without any formal invitation or request.
I would add that many do not even mention the third part of this mishnah, the obligation to judge the entirety of a person favorably. Without this, there can be no rav; there can be no friend. In truth, we can never really know the entirety of a person, what goes on in their head, their full history, the forces of life that shaped their personality, so not knowing the entirety of a person would suggest...
This remarkable mishnah about our caring, non-familial relationships, perhaps the earliest of rabbinic statements on "friendship", suggests that we consider friends (and even carefully, as other statements in later mishnayot bear out as well (Pirke Avot II:13, IV:15).
Last year, a friend was discussing how Moses' father-in-law, Yitro, advised him about how he should manage his time so that he could better serve the people, Bnei Yisrael. In actuality, this classic advice of delegating responsibility was not so earth-shattering, but clearly common sense advice that anyone could have provided. As I read this portion of the Torah every year I cannot help but feel sorry for Moses that it was his father-in-law, not a friend, offering support.
Nowhere is there any report of Moses having any friends, which got me thinking. Neither did Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob, not to mention Joseph, Aaron, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel or Leah. How great these patriarchs and matriarchs were, yet how lacking they were to not have any friends.
There is a famous midrash (talmudic literary account) of the ushpizin, special, Sukkot 'visitors' eating a Messianic feast of the Leviathon. When it comes time to recite the opening to Birkat Ha'Mazon, the prayers that express gratitude to God for sustenance (and many other blessings), the righteous diners each disqualify themselves with one exception. Abraham sent away his son, Yishmael; Isaac gave the blessing to Jacob; Jacob married two sisters; Moses struck the rock; Joseph dallied perhaps a little too long with Mrs. Potiphar; and Aaron did not prevent the creation and worship of the eigel hazahav, Golden Calf. David, the kid who had the nerve to fight Golitath, stepped up to the plate. Though as king, David sinned with Batsheva, he did teshuvah, repentance, and claimed the credit for having taught us the value of teshuvah, which is why David then proceeds to lead the blessings.
While David called in his chit for his role in spreading the word about teshuvah, perhaps this was only made possible due to David's being the first of the ushpizin who had a friend - Jonathan, son of Saul. Perhaps none of us can learn the power of teshuvah, or the power of forgiveness until we have a true friend, from whom we might need to ask forgivenes, or maybe more challenging, whom we might need to forgive. Perhaps this is also why Yitro, in last week's Torah portion of Beha'a'lotcha, did not follow Moses when invited. A friend might have accompanied him to the ends of the desert and into the Land of Israel.
As I celebrate my birthday today I look forward to another year of empowering my rav to empower me, to another year of my own special friends butting into my life with their non-solicited advice, and to the ability to see the favor and good in all those around me.
My question for my 'friend'ly readers: Who is your friend (the one that counts)? How did he or she become your friend? What can you share with others of your relationship so that we might learn and apply to have better our friendships?
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
The First Days
Whether reading the book of Bereishit (Genesis) or listening to the lyrics, "Well the first days are the hardest days..." (Uncle John's Band), the "first days" are perhaps the most significant part of any endeavor, every experience, which is not to minimize the power and satisfaction of completion.
Think of the firsts we experienced; how they shaped our lives.
We are born and immediately begin a long, steady stream of first physical sensations - touch, taste, sound, sight and smell. Funny how these sensations shape the experience of many other firsts throughout our lives as well. The first time we were pricked by a thorn or felt snow; our first taste of cinnamon or pickles; the opening notes of a Beethoven symphony or silence interrupted by crickets or cicadas; the enticing aroma of fresh baked bread, just waiting for a smear of soft butter; that first movie that showed how the magic of story or images could transport us into another dimension.
What is it that intrigues me about firsts?
Part of me loves the idea of surprises, how prior to our first steps or tastes or experiences, we never really know where they will lead us. That's why my favorite novels, films, or songs are always the ones where I could not predict the twists and turns or outcomes that would result after page/scene/note one.
There's an idea (the source of which I am still searching for) that the firsts of any particular Torah 'experience' teach us valuable lessons on its definitive characteristics - the relationships between siblings, or parents and children; performing loving acts like visiting the sick or honoring the deceased; the importance of pursuing peace or justice. I sometimes wonder if that was the case with my first experiences - whether they were defining moments.
If I were to recall some of the big firsts in my life, was everything there in front of me that I needed to know or was I embarking on a mystery? Was the mystery the discovery itself of what I was then encountering, or better yet, was it the "as-yet-to-be discovered" that results from an initial encounter in life.
Looking back, I recall meeting one of my closest friends - on the squash court. Both of us had been looking to learn the game and were matched up. After six games, tied at three games apiece, we looked at each other and one of us said, "This is a good place to stop."
Meeting Charlotte, amidst many people milling about, introducing myself and talking for awhile, I never would have known at that time that we would soon be celebrating 20 years of marriage with four beautiful, wonderful children, each a unique first of their own, each providing us new firsts. And now, as our oldest, Esther is about to embark on four years of learning at college, she is about to encounter innumerable firsts and opportunities for surprise, wonder, and growth. (We'll have a lot of unpredictable new firsts, too...)
Some twenty plus years ago I was asked if I could drive several people to and from a funeral in Philadelphia. Sitting in the front with Rabbi Simcha Weinberg, and spending the drive there and back sharing our souls with each other, on the one hand I learned much about our relationship - it was destined to be one of openness, listening and love. On the other hand, I never would have predicted the role that Rabbi Weinberg, my rav, would come to play in my life.
So many firsts in our lives, so many people who enter and shape who we are. Do we pay attention to them? Do we let them play a role in who we are to become? The choice is always ours.
Perhaps that is why it is so significant for us monotheists, that the first first, so-to-speak, is God. While we may be ever searching for understanding, constantly exploring ourselves and our relationsthips, we are the real surprises to God, given our freedom to choose.
Years from now, I pray that my children might say, "Abba haya omer" (Dad was in the habit of saying), "Mikol m'lamdai hiskalti" (From all of my teachers I have gained wisdom). This verse, quoted in Ethics of the Fathers 4:1 (actually from Psalms 119:108), is the raison d'etre, the purpose of my starting this blog, to share my view that we all have something to learn from others, and that we all have something to offer and teach others.
This blog is dedicated, appropriately on National Teacher Appreciation Day, to all of my teachers, past, present and future. And if this first blog entry is any indication of upcoming posts, it will be about drawing from our lives with an open, truthful voice; trying to understand our experiences; and perhaps most importantly, valuing others and what they have to teach us.
With this in mind, I invite anyone taking the time to read this to teach me - to share with me and anyone else reading this - the lessons that you've learned and are able to pass on to us. Perhaps you'd like to begin by sharing what you've learned from one of your first teachers or one of your first formative experiences...
Think of the firsts we experienced; how they shaped our lives.
We are born and immediately begin a long, steady stream of first physical sensations - touch, taste, sound, sight and smell. Funny how these sensations shape the experience of many other firsts throughout our lives as well. The first time we were pricked by a thorn or felt snow; our first taste of cinnamon or pickles; the opening notes of a Beethoven symphony or silence interrupted by crickets or cicadas; the enticing aroma of fresh baked bread, just waiting for a smear of soft butter; that first movie that showed how the magic of story or images could transport us into another dimension.
What is it that intrigues me about firsts?
Part of me loves the idea of surprises, how prior to our first steps or tastes or experiences, we never really know where they will lead us. That's why my favorite novels, films, or songs are always the ones where I could not predict the twists and turns or outcomes that would result after page/scene/note one.
There's an idea (the source of which I am still searching for) that the firsts of any particular Torah 'experience' teach us valuable lessons on its definitive characteristics - the relationships between siblings, or parents and children; performing loving acts like visiting the sick or honoring the deceased; the importance of pursuing peace or justice. I sometimes wonder if that was the case with my first experiences - whether they were defining moments.
If I were to recall some of the big firsts in my life, was everything there in front of me that I needed to know or was I embarking on a mystery? Was the mystery the discovery itself of what I was then encountering, or better yet, was it the "as-yet-to-be discovered" that results from an initial encounter in life.
Looking back, I recall meeting one of my closest friends - on the squash court. Both of us had been looking to learn the game and were matched up. After six games, tied at three games apiece, we looked at each other and one of us said, "This is a good place to stop."
Meeting Charlotte, amidst many people milling about, introducing myself and talking for awhile, I never would have known at that time that we would soon be celebrating 20 years of marriage with four beautiful, wonderful children, each a unique first of their own, each providing us new firsts. And now, as our oldest, Esther is about to embark on four years of learning at college, she is about to encounter innumerable firsts and opportunities for surprise, wonder, and growth. (We'll have a lot of unpredictable new firsts, too...)
Some twenty plus years ago I was asked if I could drive several people to and from a funeral in Philadelphia. Sitting in the front with Rabbi Simcha Weinberg, and spending the drive there and back sharing our souls with each other, on the one hand I learned much about our relationship - it was destined to be one of openness, listening and love. On the other hand, I never would have predicted the role that Rabbi Weinberg, my rav, would come to play in my life.
So many firsts in our lives, so many people who enter and shape who we are. Do we pay attention to them? Do we let them play a role in who we are to become? The choice is always ours.
Perhaps that is why it is so significant for us monotheists, that the first first, so-to-speak, is God. While we may be ever searching for understanding, constantly exploring ourselves and our relationsthips, we are the real surprises to God, given our freedom to choose.
Years from now, I pray that my children might say, "Abba haya omer" (Dad was in the habit of saying), "Mikol m'lamdai hiskalti" (From all of my teachers I have gained wisdom). This verse, quoted in Ethics of the Fathers 4:1 (actually from Psalms 119:108), is the raison d'etre, the purpose of my starting this blog, to share my view that we all have something to learn from others, and that we all have something to offer and teach others.
This blog is dedicated, appropriately on National Teacher Appreciation Day, to all of my teachers, past, present and future. And if this first blog entry is any indication of upcoming posts, it will be about drawing from our lives with an open, truthful voice; trying to understand our experiences; and perhaps most importantly, valuing others and what they have to teach us.
With this in mind, I invite anyone taking the time to read this to teach me - to share with me and anyone else reading this - the lessons that you've learned and are able to pass on to us. Perhaps you'd like to begin by sharing what you've learned from one of your first teachers or one of your first formative experiences...
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