The Tale

Never once did she question the loss of her husband and son.  No one heard her mention even one, “Why me?”  There was simply too much to do.  After the initial shock, there were burial plans, sending notices out to all the relatives, friends and associates.  The non-stop messages from her phone and people stopping by to drop off food and murmur words of consolation.  

The services required her full attention.  She dutifully wrote and delivered eulogies, wiping away the tears as she spoke.   The last shovel of earth did not conclude the process, it was barely the beginning.  When all that ended, there was a house to clean and a million emails and cards to answer.  It was an immense task, but she hammered away at it day after day. 

When her hands became too cramped from writing thank-you’s, there were endless bills to pay, finding all the right papers, filing them with the insurance, the lawyer and then the court.  

Of course there were the same questions, “Did you know?”  “How did it happen?”  “Were there signs?”  And the rest.  She responded to them all with the same lines that after a short while came out mechanically.  “Yes, this is terrible.  There was no warning, no signs.  Thanks for coming.  It means a lot.”

She was stalwart and determined to get everything done correctly.  So it went for months on end.

Through it all, she never threw her fists up to heaven or cursed God.  She remained silent. Unlike Job, she turned her back on faith and never looked back. 

Why should she?  They lied to her.  All of them; her teachers, faith leaders, her parents, everyone.  There was no justice in these needless deaths.  Stripped of her companion and child she could only retreat into non-belief.  If there was a God, he was heartless and cruel.  Since that left a malevolent universe the only other choice was to abandon faith.

 

Such is the story of many who have through neglect or deliberate thought have drifted from their anchor.  

What is the antidote for such a psychic unmooring?

Love.  Even if it hurts.

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Remember Me

 My dear friend,

 

I have been thinking about our conversation.

 

So much detritus lies in the dust after our lives are over.  I remember a song by Craig Taubman entitled, “Who Will Remember Me?”.  It is a powerful question contained in song thinking about dying after a satisfied life knowing that we will not be forgotten.  Yet as the song supposes, what if no one recalls us?  What if our lives are erased and no one remembers our name, how we labored, what we crafted, our joys and sorrows, our creations and missteps?  After life isn’t it a universal wish that we will be remembered?  Don’t we all hope that our lives meant something and have left a lasting imprint on the world?

 

I think of the items I have collected and saved from my parents.  There is almost nothing from my mother and some important documents that have come to me from my father.  But who will want them?  And what happened to all the things of the previous generation?  Sure, I have few photos of my grandparents and a couple of great grandparents, but I accept that even if my children take them, they will not remember who these people were as they have no personal memories of interacting with them or knowledge of their lives, much less physical contact with them.

 

Grudgingly, reluctantly, I have come to accept that the pictures and various documents will reach the rubbish heap.  There is too much for any of my kids to take and little reason for them to want them since these items do not relate in any meaningful way to their lives.

 

And yet.  These are their blood relatives, their forbears, to whom they ultimately owe their lives.  

 

To make matters worse, not only do I have these various pieces of family history I have also collected more “things” than they ever had. I have more certificates, prizes, letters, awards, degrees, cherished books and articles than they had in a lifetime.  I remember purchasing a Shas (Talmud) when I was in college. I meticulously researched the best set available, one that had a high rag content and was likely to last generations.  The tomes must weigh well over 200 pounds, and I paid a lot of money (in those days) for them.  Who will take all that?  Already my library has been significantly downsized.  Only that which is most cherished remains with me. And still….

 

My children will suffer through the same agonizing questions as they come of a certain age.  Perhaps my grandparents and great-grandparents; perhaps Moses and Abraham puzzled over the same issues.  Is this just part of the human condition?  We are predisposed to live a life that matters, one where we will be recalled and our life story told.  Except for the Sarahs, Rambams and Einsteins our life histories are swept clean by time.

 

Does anything last?  

 

The people whose lives we touched and helped will also pass away.  So even all those acts of generosity and selflessness will disappear as one generation takes the place of another.

 

On more than one occasion someone has come to me and shared how what I said to them at a time of transition in their life galvanized them to face their trial.  Each time when presented with a story like that I freely admit that I never recalled saying what they told me I said.  

 

I am warmed and comforted by those moments.  It tells me that my life has had meaning, that I made a difference to someone.  Nothing physical lasts, including us.  But something infinitely more important survives the short span of our time on earth. 

 

You have changed the world, one tiny bit at a time.  One pebble at a time you leave behind a mountain of accumulated goodness.  You leave the world in better condition.

 

Ellul

 

The Hebrew word for this month, Ellul, is said to be an anagram for “I am my beloved’s and my beloved I mine.” (Ani l’dodi v’dodi li).  Taken from Solomon’s Song of Songs the phrase expresses an idea that runs quite deep in Judaism.

We all know that love is but what is the opposite of love?  Elie Wiesel, the world’s conscience, taught that the opposite of love is indifference. Is this true?

Why did God create the world?  What purpose could a world filled with endless possibilities of destruction fulfil? Why would God have crafted a place where evil in the guise of indifference to suffering exist?

In my life I have often marveled at the faith and hope people hold in life.  A child dies and the parents find reason to love one another or devote themselves to having another child.  Two people meet, fall madly in love only for their relationship to end in a pyre of pain and exhaustion.  And when time has healed their wounds, they seek new love.  In the extreme, Holocaust victims whose families were brutally murdered raised new families.

Why do people go to such extravagant lengths in the aftermath of pain and horror?  After being singed by death or betrayal we continue to believe.  As humans we keep faith and hope alive.  We know in our hearts that love is still possible.  We seek to live life fully and give live to those whom we love.

To return to the question above, “Why did God create the world?”  Being perfect, God had no need for imperfection.  Yet, this was the ultimate act of love just as you have done many times in your life.  I believe the answer is hope and love.  

Judaism speaks of a world of crafted out of the tendrils of love. All the basic holy texts that we revere hold the same underlying principle.  One of the primary prayers that precedes the Shma in every service describes the fabric of a universe where God wove it out of a love that had no boundaries, no limitations.  

Every time we tap into that vast cosmos and feel the pulsating care that radiates out of the Divine, we can find ample reason to embrace that love and be in harmony with it.

Indifference to this universe of love is a rejection of all things that are sacred.   The path of Judaism is to look for the luminescence of joy, resilience and love that inheres everywhere.

So, at this time of year as we enter into the month of Ellul we are reminded by our sages of old that “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is Mine,” is God's endless commitment of hope and love.

 

 

Everything in its Place

 “A person is obligated to say a blessing for the bad things just as he is responsible to say it for the good.”  Berachot 33b

Having a world view is important.   We know where we stand in a comprehensible universe.  Chaos becomes minimized and confusion reduced.  In such a mind-set everything has a place and makes sense.  There is a purpose to all things.  Nothing is extraneous.  Nothing is lost.

Of Talmudic fame, Rabbi Akiva is a prime example of someone who possessed a world view that enabled him to lead a rich life.  Akiva’s life was far from pristine.  He was an impoverished and illiterate shepherd. He had virtually no possessions, certainly nothing of real value.   Eventually, Akiva fell in love with a rich landowner’s daughter and subsequently spent many years separated from her because of his impoverishment of both money and learning.  His father-in-law had such a low opinion of him that he severed his relations with his daughter when she informed him of her love for the poor and ignorant farmer.  

Akiva’s guiding principle in life was, “Everything God does is for our good.”  Now, that does not mean that Akiva joyfully embraced the many painful and terrible things that happened to him but he understood that even bitter medicine was still medicine.  Every event in his life had kernels of growth hidden inside.  It was his task to find it and grow from it.

We hear people say, “It is God’s Will,” when bad things happen.  Such a way of thinking is akin to making the best of every situation and accepting that we can grow and learn from any experience.  Railing against reality does us no good while asking what we can learn from a situation affords great opportunity.

 

“Blessed is God day by day.  He bears our burdens.  The Lord is our salvation. Selah.” Psalm 68:17

 

The Deeds

 Mishna teaches, “All whose actions exceed his wisdom, his wisdom will endure.  All whose wisdom exceeds his deeds, his wisdom will not last.” (Avot 3:5)  

This Mishna could mean that without implementation we forget.  Has it ever happened that no sooner had you learned an interesting fact that you lost it?  If we do not put into practice what we have learned the knowledge leaves us.  Question for contemplation: If this is true how would we change what we read or watch?

The Mishna could also be a philosophical comment.  What is the purpose of listening to the news?  Or reading the latest journal?  Why bother taking advanced courses or going to school at all?

For our faith, the purpose of learning is to inform life, not simply gather information.  In other words, we learn to change.  There is little value to knowledge if it does not lead to growth.  In fact, one of those most powerful statements of this belief is found in the second paragraph of the Aleynu where it reads our objective is, “to perfect the world.”  Knowledge can be used to win an argument, build a more effective way of killing people, or fix that which is broken.  We choose.

I have performed far too many funerals for my liking.  I recall few instances where the bereaved family proudly told me how brilliant the deceased was.  I remember times when their wisdom was lauded in connection with great accomplishments and also remember other times when their knowledge was mentioned in a derogatory, snide way.

Each hour should contain moments when we actualize the meaning of the Aleynu.  At the end of the day we ought to be able to recall times when we lifted grayness from the world and allowed more light to filter in; when the world became less broken and more whole because of something we did or said.

That is why Judaism insists of the path of mitzvot, action.  We have 613 mitzvot, or behaviors, that govern our lives.  It is learning put into action.

Winston Churchill said in 1936 at the brink of the World War, “I am looking for peace.  I am looking for a way to stop war, but you will not stop war by pious statements and appeals.  You will only stop it by making practical arrangements.”

We are -- there for we do.

 

A wealthy man approached the Gates of Heaven.  He tried to enter but the Ministering Angel blocked his way.  Finally, he took out his checkbook and said, “Everyone has a price.  How much do you want?”

“You don’t understand.  We don not take checks up here.  Only receipts.”

Anyway

 Anyway

 

People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered;

Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;

Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;

Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;

Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;

Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;

Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;

Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;

Give the world the best you've got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God;

It was never between you and them anyway.

Anonymous

Patience

"God of patience, 
teach me 
patience. 
Help me learn 
to wait— 
for the good 
that is just around the corner; 
for the assistance 
that will soon be within my reach; 
for the relief 
that is just a moment away. "


 The Gentle Weapon