Reputation

Fregt nit rofe, nor dem khoyle, goes a popular Yiddishism.  It means, “Don’t ask the doctor ask his parents.” So what if the sign says, “”professional"? What matters is who stands behind the sign.

A person’s reputation stands as the paramount description of them. “A good name is better than most precious of oils,” remarked king Solomon. A well-deserved name outlasts a person’s life. Why else are there some who more life in death than some who work in our midst? The good name they created by the mitzvot they have done transcends life.

There is a great illustration of this in the Torah. Eve’s sin was not in listening to the serpent in the garden, it was convincing her mate to eat the forbidden fruit. In doing so Eve destroying the great trust man and woman held for each other. Once violated, a good name is difficult to restore. “What does he think of me now Eve might have wondered.

There are others who hunger for accolades: they run after the press. “Vaulting ambition which o’erleaps itself,” wrote Shakespeare of the damage caused by self-aggrandizement. Hillel put it well, “a name made great is a name destroyed."  People who seek a good reputation for its own sake find it about as easy as grabbing onto a fistful of jello. Reputations are achieved through deeds, not desire.

Young At Heart

 Our lives are dependent.  Some would say “interdependent” but I do not think that is entirely accurate.

Take trust for example.  In the prayers just after the Shma we declare “emet!” which means “truth.”  Saying this holiest of prayers, we verbalize faith, trust, belief and reliance of something other than ourselves.  In fact we repeat the word “emet!” to fully underscore our trust (dependence) in God.

Trust makes us vulnerable (and saying “emet!” is a confirmation of that) but it is also the basis of honesty to one another and to ourselves.  Here’s one example:

A woman purchased some fruit from a vendor and returned them saying, “How can I trust you, Getzel?  The apples you sent me are rotten and I have brought them back to you!”

Getzel: “Why did you bother bringing them back?  I would have believed you.  To me your word is as good as the apples.”

What is the moral of this tale?  That Getzel’s response soothed her spirit and she would be a good future customer? No. The moral is so pure and deep that it requires no explanation other than to say trust is a great binding force for good.

Whether God or humanity, placing our trust in another is the basis for living a kind life.

We are wary of trusting.  We do not want to be “sold a bill of goods” like the Brooklyn Bridge.  We want to be savvy and worldly, suspicious of connivers and frauds.

Alan Dershowitz wrote about a couple of Americans who went on a mission to Israel.  They were taken to a Tel Aviv nightclub where a standup comedian started to tell jokes in Hebrew. 

The Israeli guide was concerned because the Americans did not know Hebrew yet he saw them laughing with the rest of the audience.

“I do not get it.  I thought you did not know Hebrew. How did you know the comedian was so funny?”
“We don’t understand,” said the woman.  “But we trust him.”

Of course no one wants to be the victim of a scam but perhaps we are wary to the extent that we have sacrificed something that is pure inside us.

You remember what trust is like.  Recall sitting at the table with a bunch of adults after a tragedy and one of them said something that made everyone sigh.  You mourned along with them because you had faith.  You knew and accepted the idea that you were dependent. 

Is it really such an admirable trait to think everyone is “out to get you?”  Perhaps the unblemished part of our neshama yearns for those halcyon days.