Mina's Musings: Rosh Hashanah Second Day 2016

Shanah Tovah.  Not too long ago we recited the words of the Prayer for the State of Israel.  We said:

אָבִֽינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַֽיִם, צוּר יִשְׂרָאֵל וְגוֹאֲלוֹ

בָּרֵךְ אֶת מְדִינַת יִשְׂרָאֵל, רֵאשִׁית צְמִיחַת גְּאֻלָּתֵֽנוּ.

Our father in heaven, Rock and Redeemer of the people Israel, Bless the State of Israel the beginning of the flowering of our redemption.

If you are like me, you have said these words many many times.  In fact, saying them so often, having personally seen them in Conservative, Reconstructionist, and even Orthodox prayerbooks made me for a while think that somehow, despite all our other differences, the Jews of the world had miraculously agreed that this was THE only prayer for Israel to be used after Israel’s independence in 1948.  Of course though, that is not the case.  Older Reform prayerbooks do not have this prayer for Israel.  They have something entirely different.   Moreover, the translations used by the various denominations which DO have “Avinu Sh’bashamayim” vary widely.  Some don’t translate Avinu Sh’bashamayim, lest someone be thrown off by the notion of God as our father in heaven.  Some change the ending from the beginning of our redemption to the promise of redemption.  And still other siddurim – both in Israel and in the United States, use a misheberach that was first written in the late 1800s and is different in some important ways than the prayer we say.

So which siddur, which prayer is correct, do the differences really “matter” in any way, and why am I devoting my sermon to it on the second day of Rosh Hashanah?  Let’s answer each of these three questions one at a time. 

Which version of the prayer is correct?  That’s easy - all of them are “correct.”  Thousands of years ago the rabbis of the Talmud (tractate Eruvin 13b) said in regards to a dispute between the House of Shammai and the House of Hillel elu v’elu divrei Elohim – these and these are words of the living God.  The same is true of these varied translations and prayers.  Each reflects what is right and true for the congregation and community that is reciting it. 

The second question was “why does it matter?”  That is also easy - it matters because the diversity of prayers and translations reflects a millennia old truth – we Jews have a diversity of understandings about every aspect of Judaism, God, Israel, what constitutes proper Jewish food and music, diversity on just about everything.  But all of us remain Jews – no matter which kind – Orthodox, Reform, Conservative, Renewal, non-observant, secular, very observant, etc.  To both God and the outside world we are all Jews and therefore family, and we should strive to see ourselves as family at all times. 

Finally, why am I talking about this with you on this, our second day of Rosh Hashanah?  I believe that the diversity of understanding that is reflected in this one prayer is emblematic of one of the most important ideas in Judaism – the commitment to honest yet respectful disagreement with our fellow human beings and Jews.  As Jews we can and do disagree about lots of things from the most mundane to the most profound.  However, our diverse opinions, no matter how religiously profound, do not negate the fact that we are all still Jews, all members of a covenant stretching back more than 3,500 years, all with a special connection to and our own hopes and prayers for the land of Israel, our people, and our world. 

My friends, I am speaking about this with you today because I believe that today we in America have a problem with diversity.  We regularly talk about diversity of gender, color, religion, and economic class. Our nation rightly spends a great deal of money to institute programs to increase diversity in these areas.  Simultaneously though, we are at a time when people are less accepting of the central Jewish commitment to and acceptance of a diversity of opinions.    

By now you can guess where I am going.  Right now we are in a very intense political season.  The rhetoric is out of control and the way that some of our fellow Americans are talking about people who disagree with them politically is downright scary. If you want politics from the bimah, this is as much as you’ll get – neither presidential candidate is Hitler or the devil and neither are his or her supporters.  Period.  Now back to Torah.   Last month I learned a passage from the Talmud I had never studied before.  It is from massekhet Baba Metzia (84a) and tells the story of the two great sages Rabbi Yohanan and Reish Lakish.  I shared it with my confirmation class during the first session of the year, and I would like to share it with you now.   

So the story is that Rabbi Yohanan was quite a looker – even beautiful.  One day, when Rabbi Yohanan was swimming in the river, Reish Lakish, a successful thief at the time, saw Rabbi Yohanan from afar, and beholding such beauty swam out to meet him.  Once there he realized that Yohanan was a man, not a woman.  He said – beauty such as yours should be on a woman.  Rabbi Yohanan laughed and responded that a man with such strength to swim out as Reish Lakish did, should use his strength to study Torah.  Then Yohanan said, “If you want a beautiful woman, do teshuvah and come study Torah with me.  If you do that I promise you can marry my sister, who is even more beautiful than me.”       

Reish Lakish took Rabbi Yohanan up on his offer.  He repented, became a student, married Rabbi Yohanan’s sister, and soon the two had gone from being master and student to true study partners.  Until one day tragedy struck.  Remember my mention of mundane things?  So they were in the yeshivah, talking about when a knife, sword, or dagger that is in the process of being made can become ritually impure.  Rabbi Yohanan gave one answer and Reish Lakish gave a different answer.  Rabbi Yohanan, usually one who enjoyed his debates with Reish Lakish must have been having a bad day because he got snippy – so snippy in fact that he humiliated Reish Lakish in front of everyone by saying: “Well, a robber understands his trade.”  Reish Lakish retorted angrily:  “Well, what good have you done me?  I was a master robber there and now I’m a master scholar.”  Though Rabbi Yohanan had hurled the first insult, he was deeply hurt and angered by Reish Lakish’s words.  Rabbi Yohanan couldn’t get his anger under control and his negative feelings caused Reish Lakish to fall deathly ill. 

As Reish Lakish got sicker and sicker, his wife, who you should remember was also Rabbi Yohanan’s sister, begged her brother to forgive Reish Lakish lest her own child – and his nephew - become an orphan and she become a widow.  Rabbi Yohanan was unmoved and soon Reish Lakish died.  Shortly after that the other rabbis noticed how despondent Rabbi Yohanan was.   They figured he needed a new study partner, so they sent him one.  The two began to study.  Every time Rabbi Yohanan stated his opinion, the new partner said, “There’s a baraita, a teaching, that supports you.”  This went on for some time until finally Rabbi Yohanan snapped.  He said:  “When I studied with Reish Lakish he would disagree with me, contradict me.  He’d give me twenty-four reasons why I was wrong and then I’d give him twenty-four reasons I was right, which led us both to a fuller understanding of the law.  All you do is say I’m right!  That’s not what I need.”  When his new partner continued to only agree with him, he descended into insanity.  Not knowing what to do for him, the rabbis prayed for Rabbi Yohanan and he died.

It is an unbelievably rich story, teaching us about the power of repentance, the importance of our words, even how dangerous uncontrolled emotions can be.  But for our purposes today, it teaches how important honest, yet respectful disagreement is, that in order to grow we MUST be challenged by others and ourselves.  The story is profound.  Rabbi Yohanan basically DIED because he not only refused to accept the possibility that he was wrong in his conclusion to the legal question, he also refused to accept that he had behaved badly by humiliating Reish Lakish in front of the rest of the yeshivah and therefore might have deserved the response Reish Lakish had given him!  He was so closed minded and so insistent that he was right, he forgot that being right isn’t always the most important thing.  By insisting he was right, he ended up losing his hevruta, his closest friend, his nephew became fatherless, his sister became a widow, he lost his mind, and eventually his life, all because he wouldn’t say, “Maybe you’re right and I’m wrong.” 

Now, I don’t believe that any of us are going to actually die if we don’t admit that we are wrong in a debate about politics, Judaism, or anything else.  But if we don’t admit that we might be able to learn something from people we disagree with, if we become like Rabbi Yohanan and are stuck only with people who agree with everything we say, then I think we do die a little spiritually & intellectually.  And so my prayer this Rosh Hashanah is that the next time one of us is tempted to unfriend someone, disparage someone we previously admired, or verbally assault someone who disagrees with us – on anything from the presidential race to the best show on TV, the best way to raise our kids or make brisket – we remember the story of Rabbi Yohanan & Reish Lakish and then act with humility, temper our words, & open both our minds & our hearts.