Nothing was ever tossed out.
Food was kept well beyond their expiration dates (were there even such things
years ago?). Couches covered in tight plastic ensuring they would
last decades, if not epochs. Who would ever think of throwing out an
appliance? They could always be fixed for a fraction of the cost of
replacing it. New cars? Sure, every ten years or so.
The Talmud has similar
thinking. If the rabbis had a theoretical discussion about some idea but
no present application the Sages deferred making a decision and called their
anaysis a hilkhata l’mashicha, a
decision to be rendered in messianic days. They did not discard their
opinions or thoughts; instead preserving them for posterity. One day,
their insights might be needed, they reckoned, so they wrote down their
ideas. Thank God, for this insightful brilliance. Because they
preserved all their arguments and opinions, no matter how absurd or obscure, we
now have clues to understand such diverse topics as in vitro fertilization and
space travel.
What does all this mean? That
we are natural born savers?
Two great Academies of learning in
the Talmud were Shammai and Hillel. They fiercely debated every aspect of the
sacred Torah. You can find their names and discussions on virtually every
folio of Talmud. In most instances, Hillel’s opinion prevails.
Still, we preserve the artful input of his adversary, Shammai. Despite
the fact that we do not accept his verdict we have preserved his opinion.
Perhaps, reasoned past Chief Rabbi of Britain Jonathan Sacks, Hillel’s
rendering is maintained for this world and Shammai’s is for the next.
Yet, there is another simpler explanation for preserving the minority
opinion. It means something far greater and deeper.
In Pirkay Avot, a scholar named Ben
Azzai said, "Do not be disrespectful of any person and do not be
dismissing of any thing, for there is no person who does not have his hour, and
there is no thing which does not have its place."
This is real wisdom. All things,
ideas, and people have their moment. Nothing should be discarded. This could be the rationale for maintaining
past conversations and out-voted opinions.
Another idea: Many people despair
over our present as they contemplate the next generations. The
ever-dizzying rates of assimilation, intermarriage, and non-observance bolster
this sentiment. And yet, as surely as countless despots have tried to
destroy us (think of Purim just past, Pesah about to arrive) we have clung to
the anchor of our past and looked at the future while holding onto Torah.
When we preserve our past our future
is assured.
There is no doubt the Jewish people
will be around forever. The Promise has been fulfilled. The
Covenant is eternal. Perhaps then, the reason we hold on to the past
arguments and conversations is that it is the rudder that steers us toward the
future. Don’t let go.
