I was the Jewish chaplain at the US Air Force Academy. A Jewish woman from Connecticut phoned
me. A cadet at the Academy, not a Jew,
was a close family friend. He was
invited to the woman’s daughter’s bar mitzvah celebration. The cadet was unable to get a pass to absent
himself from the Academy for a long weekend to participate in the festivities. Could I do something to help?
I explained that
there was a scheduling committee that must approve all absences from the
Academy. Even if I wanted to
organise a trip for cadets under the auspices of the chaplains’ office, I needed
their approval. This committee had
turned down the cadet’s request. He
would likely have been given the pass if the bat mitzvah had been for someone
in his immediate, or close family. But for
a family friend, that was outside the parameters. There were no appeals.
“You can’t fight
city hall,” I told her, ‘city hall’ being a euphemism for any higher authority.
“Oh, yes I can…and I
will!” the woman retorted.
I tell the story because
it was so quintessentially Jewish. We
Jews are taught from a young age to test the boundaries. To not necessarily take ‘no’ for an answer. This spirit is the subject of a lot of criticism. Adherents of other religions, whose ethos aim
to develop a submissive spirit, don’t ‘get’ the Jewish mindset.
This mindset goes
back to Moses, the protagonist in the Book of Exodus which we continue reading
this week with the weekly portion, Va’era.
Moses could not have continued not taking ‘no’ for an answer, had the
people not been with him. Of course, not
all the people Israel had the same spirit. At the end of last week’s portion, Pharaoh
responds to ‘Let my people go’ by withholding straw for making bricks whilst
not adjusting the daily quota. In other
words, by doubling the workload. The
people are angry at Moses and Aaron. How
could they not be? They are not privy to
the ongoing conversation between Hashem and Moses. Beginning this week, Moses calls down the Ten
Plagues on Pharaoh. The plagues, at
least at the beginning, seem to be as much for the benefit of the Israelites as
for Pharaoh. Lest they think that Moses
is just a crazy old deluded guy.
When we manifest a
stubborn spirit, we imitate Moses. Which
is not to say, thinking that we are Moses or his equal. Moses was a man, and a flawed one with his
foibles and quirks. And yet at the end
of the Book of Deuteronomy we’re told: There
will never be another Prophet like Moses. The Rambam, in the 13th century
of our era, names it as one of his 13 Principles of Faith. Yet we are not thinking ourselves the equals
of Moses when we take to heart his example.
I’ve observed that Australian
Jews, as a group, don’t exhibit this spirit. The Jewish community here seems docile and
unwilling to stand up against abuses of authority. The way that small-potatoes organisational leaders
cow the people belies my experience elsewhere: In the USA for sure, but also in Europe and
most definitely in Israel. I cannot
explain it; I only observe that it’s there.
Not to sound
self-congratulating, but I’ve never allowed myself to be cowed by abuses. And I came here with no intention of adopting
that habit. Therefore, when my former
employer on the Gold Coast insisted that I participate in the excommunication
of three individuals or families, I told them that we Jews don’t do that. When they threatened my tenure for this, I
asked them to show me in my contract where they get to control me in this way. When they tried to make me so uncomfortable
that I would leave voluntarily, I threatened them with workplace action for
harassment. When they tried to
circumvent all the above by declaring me redundant, I took them to the Fair
Work commission and won a judgement against them. When they tried to get me deported from
Australia by informing Immigration that I was persona non grata, I prevailed
upon some friends to start Jewish Journeys to take over my sponsorship. When they influenced other organisations in
the community to shun me, I kept doing my work for your benefit. When last week a funding crisis put my salary
out of reach, I told the Jewish Journeys board that I would work for a reduced
salary until we get through the crisis. When our chairman told me that my willingness
notwithstanding, he had to inform Immigration that Jewish Journeys cannot pay
my salary at the government-mandated amount, I told him that for now, I will
donate any salary shortfall to Jewish Journeys from my own pocket, so that they
can turn around and pay me. Understand
what this means. It isn’t the equivalent
of making a salary concession. It means
that I am going to be taxed twice on this money: once when I earned it in the USA, and again
when I receive it back after paying it in to Jewish Journeys.
This has been an
incredible odyssey, one that I never choose for myself. But it came my way and whilst I’m tired of
it, I can only thank Hashem for testing me to the point where I now know what I’m
made of. Again, I’m not looking for praise
for going through it. But there are two
things that I would appreciate.
First, I want you to
see my actions as being within that Jewish history of Fighting City Hall, of
not accepting the dicta of authority simply because they are authority. Moses didn’t. Akiva didn’t. So many famous Jews through our history didn’t. Not only Jews have internalised that
spirit. I’m not sure it will resonate in
this room, but the Minutemen assembled on Lexington and Concord greens on the
morning of 19 April 1775 didn’t. It
doesn’t mean we should be forever difficult and cantankerous because that’s the
stereotype of the Jew. Rather, that we
should have a keen sense of right and wrong, and be willing sometimes to take a
personal risk when we believe that what’s happened is simply wrong. That’s the first lesson I’d like you to take
from this.
Second, if my
steadfastness – or stubbornness – resonates with you, I’d like you to respond
by taking seriously at least the most basic of my teachings. It’s a message that I have repeated again and
again, and yet it keeps cropping up, even in this group. Gossip that is rooted in jealousy. We cannot seem to master it.
This week someone close
told me that, during my recent travels to Israel and the USA, someone talked
about how Clara and I were taking a trip that others can only dream of. Therefore, it would seem that pleas for
consideration for members of our group to consider upping their financial
support, are not to be taken seriously. I
cannot afford to go to Israel, and yet there the Levy’s go…again.
I don’t want to know
who said this. I do want everybody to understand
that, for almost all of you, a trip to Israel is certainly within your reach. If you make it a priority in guiding your
spending and saving, you will be able to go in your lifetime. Clara and I have ordered our own economic
lives with this priority in mind. Thus,
we have no material possessions to speak of.
We drive a 20-year-old car. Which
was given to us. And…worst blow of all…I
still carry an iPhone 4S! Which was
given to me. Okay, I’m kidding. Not that I don’t use a gifted iPhone
that’s three generations into obsolescence.
Only that it isn’t really much of a blow.
My point is that the Levy’s have
made visiting Israel a priority because we couldn’t do otherwise. That choice has precluded for us, many of the
things that you have allowed yourselves.
I’m not saying our way is superior, only that it’s our way. Understand though, that when we go we stay
with my mother-in-law. So you judge
whether this is an enviable holiday. When
you stay with your in-laws, do you consider it a windfall of some kind? Okay…I’m kidding, people!
But I’m not kidding
about this. Envy is the surest
route to misery. We pounded the message
into our kids when they were growing up:
Count Your Blessings! Focus
on something that someone else has but you lack, and you’re virtually guaranteed
misery. Because no matter how much you
have, there’s always someone else who has more. It’s a no-win proposition. So you dwell on the ways that you have been
blessed. There is someone out there –
you don’t have to look too hard – who has less.
The spirit of Count Your Blessings, is the surest road to happiness. And I didn’t make this up. In Mishna Avot we read: Who is rich? The one who is happy with his lot. Already in the 2nd century the
Rabbis fought this tendency to allow envy to rule people’s lives.
To hear that members
of our group are jealous about the Levy’s good fortune in being able to travel
to Israel, is frustrating. But more
frustrating is the evidence that some in the group have not heeded the most
basic, and self-evident, of my teachings. And that – more than the personal frustration
that I feel over the saga of our lives here or the recent gossip – makes me
wonder truly what I have achieved here. I’m sure that I’m not here because I can sing
pleasantly in Hebrew or play the ukulele. If I’m supposed to be here, it is to help you
to achieve happiness. And that happiness
cannot come if you can’t swear off jealousy.
So let’s learn from
Moses’ example of steadfastness in his pounding to Pharaoh the message that
Hashem gave him. Let’s understand the
Jewish imperative to stand up to corrupt authority, even when it’s
uncomfortable to do so. And let’s also internalise
the most basic lessons on control of the tongue and how to reach for happiness.
Hashem wants each one of us to be
happy. Some would say that to be happy
is nothing short of a Divine obligation, and I’m inclined to believe it.
So how about taking the most basic
message of your Rabbi to heart?
What about the woman in Connecticut,
who vowed to fight City Hall? Did she? I don’t know, I never heard anything more. I can’t say that she was justified in thinking
she had a good cause. But thinking back
on the incident today, I recognise that essential Jewish spirit in her. In our lives, there will inevitably be times
when we are called upon to fight City Hall.
When we do receive that calling, may it be for good cause and bring good
result. Shabbat shalom.
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