Sermons

All Are Responsible – One for the Other
Rabbi Marcia A. Zimmerman
January 2, 2009

Last night on the way to dinner, Frank, my husband, was telling me about an article he had read on Google. It contained a conversation about how far are Jews responsible for one another. What is the ultimate boundary of the Talmudic ideal Kol Ysrael arevim zeh bazeh.  “All of Israel” it says. Kol Ysrael. The entirety of Israel – meaning the Jewish people. That’s how that word is being used in the Talmud. All of the Jewish people are responsible – one for the other. It was an interesting conversation and we were left with the ultimate question: Is there a limit to our responsibility – one for the other?

I don’t know about you, but I am getting afraid to open up the newspapers these days. The front page seems to have our people and not in the most positive light. Between Bernard Madoff and his great Ponzi scheme and this Holocaust couple, Herman and Rosa Rosenblatt who fabricated a romance story – like surviving the Holocaust isn’t enough anymore, now we have to have something even greater to make it publishable.

Can we disassociate from people who do things that we disagree with? There is a Rabbi who wanted to excommunicate Bernard Madoff from the Jewish people. The antithesis of being responsible – one for the other. To excommunicate him means to get rid of him

It might seem like at first blush a good idea, my question is: Is it right? Is it Jewish? Now that is a different question than can we excommunicate him. Can we truly separate ourselves from a Bernard Madoff or from a couple who had an untrue story published? I’m not sure, but let’s look together and begin to ponder these questions.

In Pirke Avot, again from the Mishnah, it says: Al tifrosh min ha-tzibbur. “Do not separate yourself from the community.” But what happens when you have deemed the other person to have separated themselves from the ideals and values of the community – can you then separate from them?

Abraham Joshua Heschel said in relationship to the Holocaust,

            “Some are guilty; all are responsible.
            Some are guilty; but all are responsible.”

So perhaps if we see ourselves not as the ones who are guilty, but as the ones who are responsible, maybe we begin to look at the question a bit differently.

We’re not guilty. None of us orchestrated a Ponzi scheme with billions of dollars. Bernard Madoff was wrong, unethical and clearly dishonest. And we did not put a fictional story within a book as a memoir. That is not truthful. It is stretching the truth. An elderly couple devalued their own story and felt the need to make it even more impossible. We can see that as an emotional issue, as a psychological problem, but even so it put other people’s integrity at stake. It is wrong. It is not acceptable.

Then what does it mean if we are not guilty, to be responsible? I think, as I have been pondering this over the last few weeks, that to be responsible means that we must reassess and realign ourselves to our Jewish teachings. We must look at what Judaism says even when, and I would say mostly when, our Jewish teachings run counter to what has become the socially accepted norms that are all around us. We have to look at what the Jewish view of money is.

Money is not intrinsically good or bad according to Judaism. It is what you do with it that makes it valuable. We tend to value the money we make, the money we work hard for. Nobody “makes” money. (I love this idea.) Only the official mint in D.C. actually “makes” money. None of us “make” money. So what does it mean to value what we’ve worked so hard for? There is my favorite story that I’ve been telling a great deal that it goes exactly to this point:

There is a Rabbi who gives his student $5 and tells him to give $1 to tzedakah, to a charitable cause, to somebody in need, to whatever that student’s choice is. To give tzedakah is actually an act of justice, to find some kind of balance in the world of justice. And then the rabbi asks his student, “How much money do you have left?” The student thought that the mathematical equation of “five-minus-one-equals-four” was probably not the answer that the rabbi was looking for. And so the student just looked at his rabbi with a questioning face.

The rabbi said, “You only have $1 – that $1 that you gave to tzedakah because in that $1 is your good name. The four others – you can lose them tomorrow. So the only thing you have is what you have given away.” That’s like a song that we sing in our nursery school here, right? It’s like all those amazing stories that we tell our own children: you really have more, when you give it away. When you understand that the giving is the intrinsic value is when you understand the rabbi’s lesson. Which is not exactly what our social norms are telling us today.

There are a couple other lessons that we can look for in these some of unethical realities in our world today. For example, the person who we might call a shyster, the one who convinces people to do something and doesn’t really show the truth – Bernard Madoff is one example. If you look within Leviticus it says, “Do not put a stumbling block in front of the blind.” This again brings out the understanding that we are responsible to our word. That we should never put something before a person that could cause them harm. We might be able to get away with it, but that doesn’t make it right. “Don’t put a stumbling block in front of the blind,” literally means that even if the person won’t know that YOU put it there, but nonetheless, you are still guilty of causing that person harm.

There is also the lesson of due diligence, according to Judaism. There is a wonderful story that relates to how we can go vouchsafe into a situation feeling as though our title, our former history of what we have been is enough. But Judaism says, “No, that’s not true.” Everybody, even the most righteous, has to be appropriately accountable. If that person isn’t, then that person isn’t living up to their responsibility. So asking for accountable is for the good of both parties.

This wonderful story is between Rav Ashi, a renown scholar, very well-respected, and Ravina, also a very righteous person and a business transaction between them. One Friday, late into the day, almost Shabbat – so you can feel the tension  because you are not to do business on Shabbat – Rav Ashi sends word to Ravina, “Send me ten zuz (zuz is money), for I have an opportunity on the field.” And Ravina sends back word, “No. Bring me witnesses and let us write a deed (meaning this isn’t going to happen before Shabbat.) You are going to have to be patient. I’m sorry you feel the pressure of time, but due diligence is more important.” And what does Rav Ashi say? “Even for me?! I need to have witnesses?! I need to have a deed?!” And Ravina’s response is, “Especially for you, because you are occupied in Torah. You might forget a certain thing that has to happen to make the transaction acceptable.”

This story teaches us that even Rav Ashi should not be considered above suspicion. When appropriate accountability is demanded of both parties, there is respect for all, for it diminishes no one.

So – here we are. We have a sense that being responsible for one another is not always a comfortable place. It’s not always easy to be responsible, but it is necessary to be so.

The next teaching is that responsibility means that we have a brit, a covenant, and that we have to work on that covenant. Somewhere along the way I think we have gotten the idea that being responsible for one another means that we have to have the exact same views, the exact same opinions, and the exact beliefs in order to feel totally responsible for the other. We think we have to be the same in order to find consensus, which I believe is not the correct definition of consensus. Consensus does not mean to be the same – it means to have in mind the common good, even with differing opinions, and working towards that common good.

But I believe that being responsible for one another and being in a brit means to lovingly disagree. I find that this allows for creative synergy at times, for frustration at others. But we don’t have to be exactly the same. Would we believe that in order to love our children, or to have a covenant with our children we have to agree with everything they do or believe or say? Absolutely not! Our job is to put forth a different perspective at times. To even make sure that they truly understand our perspective. Then it’s called tough love! And guess what? Even, internally in our community, there are times we need tough love from each other – but the love part is essential. We continue to feel connected even when we have differing opinions.

I believe that these two elements – due diligence and brit are essential in being responsible, one for the other. Let’s look at what our tradition says by really uncovering the concepts that our Torah and Talmud teach us. “There is nothing new under the sun,” Ecclesiastes says, and guess what? There is nothing new – we can find insight and understanding even from the most ancient texts. Being responsible means we stand firm in our beliefs and confront each other. That we feel committed enough to struggle and to critique. That we understand that when we come out of that disagreement, we are still arevim zeh bazeh, that we are still committed to each other, responsible to each other.

And tonight as we look at what is happening in Israel, we strongly feel Kol Ysrael arevim zeh bazeh – that we are all responsible one for another. Our hearts go out to the citizens of Israel. It is moments such as these that we see the difficulty and truly the sadness of the situation. Frank’s family, his first cousin, lives on a kibbutz that’s two miles form the Gaza border. It has been a harrowing experience for his cousin and her three children as they have experienced kassams. They moved to another kibbutz this past year because her children couldn’t handle it anymore. The trauma was too palpable every day.

Last year, Frank was visiting them and they were walking outside. Her oldest child, her only daughter, looked around and, realizing that there was no shelter where they were walking, started having an absolute anxiety attack. Frank couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. So eight months ago, they moved fifteen miles north. That home, too, in these recent weeks and months is safe no longer. Recently, missiles coming down, their next-door neighbor was killed by a kassam. So it is a difficult reality, and we here in the United States find our hearts going forth.

I want to read another perspective, something I sent out to all who are on email, so if you have email, you can download this. This is from Rabbi Stanley Davis, who moved to Israel about three years ago. He is a Reform rabbi who had a congregation here in the States for many, many years. He wrote all of us in the Reform movement a letter and I want to read two paragraphs of it. He’s talking about having a Hanukah party, this past Shabbat. It begins with his reminiscing about this day:

“Not one of our guests questioned the need for such an assault [meaning the IDF, the Israeli army to go into Gaza], even as many confessed to being profoundly saddened at the inevitability of serious loss of life on both sides. War, no matter how necessary and how fully justified, still unfailingly reveals some of humanity’s most unsavory aspects. Would Israel be able to withstand the international pressure to stop its assault before the smuggling tunnels could be destroyed, before the missile launchers could be rendered inoperative, before the leaders of terror could be done?

Bitterness swirled around our guests as many began predicting, accurately as it turned out, what the press conferences in the many western capitals would piously proclaim: that Israel’s response to Hamas, to the daily bombardment, is inhumane or disproportionate. In fact, Israel’s act of self-defense would come be viewed as the cause, not the result, of rising tensions and human suffering. Logic dies easily when it comes to Jewish survival.”

 

We must, in this time, keep our cool and express our sadness at the loss of innocent life on both sides. And we need also to be clear – that Israel protects her citizens: that is a right and a responsibility. It is difficult, but our hope is that we will find partners in the Palestinian community who will truly work towards peace, and towards a two-state solution. We do believe that there are those individuals, but we need to hear their voices stronger and we need to work with them.

It is at this time important for us to remember Kol Ysrael arevim zeh bazeh. We are responsible, one for the other. I believe our humanity depends on it, that Jewish continuity demands it. In this week’s Torah portion we have the perfect example of how when one feels responsible, truly, it does change history. We have the story of Joseph and his brothers – you remember the back story! How Joseph’s brothers hated him with such vigor, they threw him into a pit, some wanting him to die, others trying at least to save his life, but wanting still to get rid of him.

Let’s fast-forward. In this week’s Torah portion, Joseph is now the right hand of Pharaoh. He is the one who takes care of the food, the storehouses of food in the time of famine. His brothers come to him for help, not knowing it is the brother they tried to have killed years before. Joseph, not revealing his identity yet, actually plays with his brothers a bit more than I feel comfortable with, but there is a difference of opinions as to why he did this. Joseph says, “You know what? You can have some food, but you’re not going to take Benjamin back home with you! (Benjamin, the smallest one, the youngest brother, the only other son born of HIS mother, Rachel.) You’re not going to take him back home, because we’re going to keep him. And you’re going to tell your father that we’re keeping your brother.” Then Judah – Judah finally stands up and he says, “Un-ah! I can’t do that. My father will die if I don’t bring back Benjamin. He is his favorite child, he dotes on him. Joseph, his older brother, was killed. I can not do this to my father, Jacob.”

Once Joseph sees that his brother Judah is ready to be responsible for another brother, responsible enough to stand up to someone in Pharaoh’s court, he can not hold back any longer. He reveals his identity. He waits for that moment when his brothers are responsible, one for the other. It doesn’t mean they take on the guilt, it means they are responsible. So even in this week’s Torah portion, we are taught of the complexity of what is means to be responsible for one another. And in this week’s Torah portion, once Judah stands up ,once he is responsible and does the right thing, then we understand that healing is possible, and reunification, and the bringing back together of family.

That is true of our people as well. We live in interesting times. It can be a blessing, or it can be a curse – it’s up to us and how we respond.

Shabbat Shalom