By Rabbi Sender Haber
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| Image for illustration purposes only (TOI) |
Every Jewish funeral begins with the first psalm: “Fortunate is the man that did not walk in the ways of wicked nor stood on the path of sinners nor sat in the company of scoffers”.
The “company of scoffers” or “Moshav Leitzim” is what concerns me most. A “Leitz” - often characterized as a clown - is best defined as someone who is irreverent. Cheap comedy is built on irreverence. The ability to push the envelope, to speak the unspeakable, to capitalize on shock value.
But there is also an irreverence that people have for each other. It is a lack of respect for what a fellow human being has accomplished, what he or she represents, and what he or she can contribute to the world.
Even assuming a baseline of the Rambam’s thirteen principles of faith, one does not have to be very broad minded to recognize that there is room for many different types of frum Jews in the world. It takes even less imagination to recognize that within our own individual circles everyone has something unique and special to offer.
There is a member of my shul who spends at least four hours of the day engaged in Torah and Tefillah. I spend more hours than that and my learning is probably deeper than his. But I’m paid to teach Torah and I’m paid to prepare shiurim. Even attending Tefllos is part of my job. I need to be able to respect someone who spends so many hours on Torah and Tefillah outside of their job. How could I not respect that?
I know a young lady who lived with a young man for several years. As they were about to get engaged, it emerged that he was not Jewish. He did not believe in G-d and was not a candidate for conversion. After much soul seeking, the young lady broke the relationship and became completely observant. She found a better man who also had compatible beliefs. They are raising a beautiful family. How could I not respect that? I never had a girlfriend or considered intermarrriage, but I also never made the sacrifices that she did. I look at her beautiful family today and I am in awe.
As a rabbi, I technically work on shabbos, but I have never had to go to my boss and explain that I will be missing half of October. I may be more learned and possibly more religious than many in the business world, but I have to admit that their Mesirus Nefesh for Shabbos rivals mine. The purchase of my house was the only real estate transaction I ever made. Between staying honest and keeping shabbos, it was a huge challenge. I believe I passed with flying colors, but it gave me more respect for those who are involved in these transactions every day.
I know a man who was raised in a Messianic congregation. He stood up one day and told the priest, his parents, and all of his friends that their belief system made no sense. He is not nearly as frum as I am. But when it comes to standing up for G-d and truth, I have a lot to learn from him.
We need to learn to respect each other, to see the good in others, and to learn from every person. It’s so cliche, yet so rare.
I mention it in this forum because blogs like these have the potential to make it right. A blog like this should be able to draw on the various segments of Klal Yisroel, lightly criticizing where appropriate and showing how each group can learn from the other and - at the very least - learn to respect and tolerate one another.
When this blog and it’s commenters do that, they are fixing the world. Even the most ardent opponent to blogs and social media would have to concede that something worthwhile was accomplished. A platform for people to share their irreverence for others will not make this world a better place.
When I left Kollel in Lakewood to join a four person Kollel and later teach and lead in a community out of town, I did not have very much support from those around me. I was learning well and nobody could understand why I would give that up to live in a community that lacked so much of what Lakewood had to offer. In retrospect, I have no doubt that I made the right decision, but at the time it was controversial.
One of the biggest opponents was my friend Chaim. He remains a close friend of mine and was my Chavrusa. We learned together right in front of the Aron Kodesh in the main Beis Medrash in Lakewood. Chaim worried that my learning might be affected. In fact, he undertook to check on me every month.
Chaim was relentless, he called me every Rosh Chodesh for an update on my progress. He wouldn’t accept vague answers and he challenged every decision that I made. He made sure that I stayed in touch with my inner Yeshiva Bochur and made me answerable for my learning schedules and priorities.
I love talking to Chaim but it wasn’t a walk in the park. Chaim is hard to impress. He was a man on a mission. When I made a siyum he asked me what else I was learning. When I began teaching Daf Yomi early in the morning, he asked if I learned at night. When the President of Hebrew Union College and a local Mayor attended my Siyum on Krisos, Chaim didn’t care. He wanted to know if I had learned every Tosfos.
As I took on various rabbinic responsibilities and teaching positions in the community, Chaim wasn’t impressed. He was no less demanding. When I joined the Harley Davidson Club and enrolled in the local university, Chaim didn’t blink. Chaim just wanted to be sure that I was learning.
What right did Chaim have to be so demanding? Who appointed him as my personal mashgiach and drill sergeant? I often wondered but never complained.
Until one year my wife and I took advantage of some time in Lakewood to return to our kollel days. The plan was for me to spend a week learning in BMG. This was not a social visit and nobody in Yeshiva was expecting me. I strode into the Beis Medrash bright and early, took a seat twenty rows back from the Aron Kodesh and opened my Bava Basra. I saw Chaim in our old seat with his new chavrusa learning Bava Kama. He never saw me.
I learned in Lakewood for a week and Chaim never took his head out of his gemara. He came earlier than me, left later than me, and never stopped learning.
Chaim truly does live the Lakewood life. His entire life is about Torah and he will never look out of his Gemara. He doesn’t care about mayors, presidents, prestige, or motorcycles.
Would I have continued to learn even without Chaim’s monthly phone calls? I like to think so. Did Chaim have the license to call and remind me that learning is important? Absolutely.
Watching Chaim learn convinced me of this more than a thousand phone calls. Chaim passed the test of time and withstood the pressures of ‘the little world out there’. Chaim is what Lakewood and all Bnei Torah should represent. They are our reminder that everything is in the Torah and that we are nothing without it. They affirm that Torah has the depth to captivate us for a lifetime.
More than twenty years have passed since I left Lakewood. Chaim is now a rebbe in Lakewood Cheder and I am now the Rabbi in my community. He and I still pick up a phone every now and then to talk about Torah and Life. I never told him that I visited Lakewood without saying hello.
We disagree on many things, but I have learned to respect who Chaim is and what he represents. It makes me uncomfortable at times and it may one day inspire me to go back to kollel. And that’s the point.
Our job in this world is to learn to respect others, to see what we can learn from them, and to speak with reverence even as we disagree.
Rabbi Haber is a student of Mir and Lakewood, a Rabbi in an out of town community and a reader of this blog who has commented anonymously at times.