Monday, April 30, 2012

A little work never hurt


 

The Talmud (Yoma 86a) quotes the sage, Abayei, who interpreted the verse “And you shall love the Lord your God” to mean that “the Name of Heaven should be beloved because of you.” Our words and deeds should inspire people to come closer to God and Torah, not repel them from God and Torah.

The Talmud continues: “If someone studies Torah and Mishnah, and attends on the disciples of the wise, is honest in business, and speaks pleasantly to persons, what do people then say concerning him? ‘Happy the father who taught him Torah, happy the teacher who taught him Torah; woe unto people who have not studied the Torah; for this one has studied the Torah—look how fine his ways are, how righteous his deeds!’…But if someone studies Torah and Mishnah, attends on the disciples of the wise, but is dishonest in business, and discourteous in his relations with people, what do people say about him? ‘Woe unto him who studied the Torah, woe unto his father who taught him Torah; woe unto his teacher who taught him Torah!’ This man studied the Torah—look how corrupt are his deeds, how ugly his ways.”

From all of the above there are four words - just four - that at least suggest that a person must spend some time at work, a job of some sort.

Most of the Talmudic-era luminaries had a job of some type, even if only managing property (some were very well off); some made and mended shoes or carried water; still others made and sold beer.

These were the men whose names pop up multiple times in the Talmuds. Men respected not only for their wisdom but also because of their "down to earth" lives. Granted, there were a few equals to Rothschild and Rockefeller, but most were "everyday people."

They worked enough to meet the needs of their families rather than go begging or worse, sending their sons and daughters begging on their behalf.

A far cry from today where "boys" long past their youth sit in yeshivot and "study" while their wives go out to work when not taking a 3-day vacation to give birth to another child. What will thay do with their learning? Since they don't leave the confines of the cloister, they can't share what they learned - assuming they indeed learned something. Is this, then,. learning for the sake of heaven or learning to avoid work and responsibility?

There are hakhamim even today, but all together they could not fill a yeshiva. There are lesser lights that study and take what they learned out to the world to share in schools and congregations and kollels. They don't stop learning, they simply add kamak (flour) to Torah.

The thing that triggered the above was R. Marc Angel's weekly email. This week it relates to the double portion Aharei Moth-Kedoshim (http://www.jewishideas.org/angel-shabbat/image-and-reality-thoughts-aharei-moth-kedoshi) .

R. Angel notes that "Some years ago, the Jerusalem Post published results of a poll of Israelis dealing with attitudes toward Orthodox Jews. Respondents generally identified Orthodox Jews with religious coercion, distinctive clothing, political infighting, and with Hareidim who do not serve in the Israeli military and do not carry their weight in the Israeli economy. Only 19% of respondents identified Orthodox Jews as people committed to Torah and mitzvoth!"

He comments that "If the general public has negative or incomplete views of Orthodoxy, then Orthodoxy itself bears much of the blame. If the popular image of Orthodox Jewry conjures up religious coercion, political manipulation, and self-righteous isolationism, then Orthodoxy is failing in its mission."

But I would ask: Who is "Orthodox?"

I am shomer Shabat, shomer kashrut, and I put on tallit and tefflin. Does that make me "Orthodox"?

To a Reform Jew, and possibly even a Conservative Jew, I'm probably considered "Orthodox."

To a hareidi black hat from Mea Sharim or Bnai Brak, and even many Ashkenazi "Orthodox" rabbis, I'm not quite an epikuros, but I'm certainly a heloni because I am "not like them."

Within the Sephardi and Mizrahi worlds, there is no "orthodoxy"; not with a capital "O" and not with a lower case (small) "o." A Jew is a Jew is a Jew - some are more observant and some are less observant, but "a Jew is a Jew is a Jew."

I'll admit to having a problem telling a Jew driving by on Shabat "Shabat shalom," but maybe I ought to rethink that attitude. After all, "a Jew is a Jew is a Jew." Maybe next Shabat, having seen me make the trip on shank's mare, the person will decide to walk to a nearby congregation. If I say "Shabat shalom" or "Gut Shabbos" or just "Hello" maybe the person behind the wheel will think: "Gee, maybe all "Orthodox" Jews aren't that bad . . . maybe I'll see what it's like in that guy's shul."

But, as R. Angel contends, it's up to me to present more observant Jewery to the less observant Jew in a positive light. I know when I see an observant Jew in uniform my respect for that person's level of observance goes up. If I see an obviously "Orthodox" Jew serving his country or community (national service), my respect for that Jew goes up.

The "bottom line" for R. Angel is "Until the entire population views Orthodox Jews in a positive light, we are failing in our religious responsibilities." He has some suggestions on how to do that in his weekly missive. this week at http://www.jewishideas.org/angel-shabbat/image-and-reality-thoughts-aharei-moth-kedoshi.