A Noble World

Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur 5767 – 2006 by Rabbi Joshua Hoffman

A farmer's barn catches fire. The county fire department was called to put out the fire. Due to the dry heat and the surrounding grassy area, the fire was more than the county fire department could handle. Someone suggested that a nearby volunteer bunch be called. Despite some doubt that the volunteer outfit would be of any assistance, the call was made.

The volunteers arrived in a dilapidated old fire truck. They rumbled straight toward the fire, drove right into the middle of the flames, finally coming to a loud and crashing halt in the middle of the barn. The firemen jumped off the truck and frantically started spraying water in all directions. In just minutes, they had snuffed out the entire fire.

Watching all this, the farmer was so impressed with the volunteer fire department's work and so grateful that the rest of his farm had been spared, right there on the spot he presented the volunteers with a check for $1,000. A local news reporter rushed in to ask the volunteer fire captain what the department planned to do with the funds. Wiping the ashes off his coat, he responded, "That ought to be obvious, Fix the brakes!"

On any given day in our community people enter and exit through our schools and sanctuaries offering precious time to help, organize and promote important programs, help answer telephones, stuff envelopes, raise important funds, nurture the political conscience of the community, and even eat the cookies. Yes, we have volunteers for this important communal function, for sometimes simply being here and sharing the joy of life within our sacred halls is a great mitzvah. Each act of giving that takes place in this community reinforces just how significant the volunteer act is, and invites us to explore what are the sacred dimensions of "Gemilut Chesed--Acts of generosity--acts of kindness."

Those who study such things have come to define a volunteer as one whom: Chooses to act on the recognition of a need, with an attitude of social responsibility and without concern for monetary profit, going beyond one's basic obligations. There are essentially three elements to this definition

1. Choose to act on the recognition of a need:

When it comes to charity, why is it that we decide to give our spare change to one individual and not another on the street or to invest in one worthy organization over another? What process takes place when we chose to show up for Mitzvah Day in 2005 and not in 2006? Are our choices truly value-laden or are they merely that which is presented before us in the moment?

Our sage rabbis teach us, "Kol Yisrael Arevim Zeh B'Zeh" "Each one of us is responsible for the other." The 20th century philosopher, Emmanuel Levinas taught that it is in fraternity, in taking responsibility for another individual, that we find transcendence. We volunteer our time because we truly feel where God is present in those interchanges. Levinas goes further to say that when we look into the eyes of another human being we must take responsibility for their humanity. How difficult a proposition this is when faced with the billions of people with so many needs to be responsible for!

We are now connected to more people than ever before, and therefore we see more pain and brokenness. Genocide in Sudan. Earthquakes and Tsunamis strike on the other side of the world, and we are needed there too. We've learned this in New Orleans, so much so that when Katrina hit and the levees broke, we discovered some of the worst poverty and social conditions in our country. When we have 24 hour streams of media reporting tragedy and discontent instantaneously, we react too quickly, running in our minds from one catastrophe to the next without ever really contemplating how we shall respond. As random as it all may seem there are ways to find order and meaning in the world without having our essential foundations shaken each time we hear of some new tragedy.

We also feel that there is so much we want to do in the world, like climb Mt.Everest and be among the first private citizens in Space, while still spending more time with our families and volunteering on an important project that means something. But we cannot do this all for lack of time.

On the contrary, lack of time and convenience are masks for a much deeper conflict of choices. I believe that we are keenly paying attention to what is happening in the world today and quite simply the world has more needs, even more than we can currently bear alone. 6 billion human lives are an unconscionable number to keep track of, let alone attempting to satisfy the sheer enormity of 6 billion needs. Our computers can calculate the needs, but our hearts are under tremendous stress. Among the billions of choices we can make, we too often choose not to make a choice. That choice – choosing not to choose is not one we speak of in Judaism.

We must choose to respond. Time and again, our rabbis teach us. "U'Kshe Rak L'Aztmee, Mah Ani?" If I am only for myself, what am I?" Each person has two truths scribbled of little pieces of paper in their pockets. "Bishveeli Nivra HaOlam." "For me this World is created." "Ani Afer v'Ayfer" " I am but dust and ashes." The world is mine to conquer and build upon alone--I am but a speck in the infinite course of time and my place is to serve God's purpose. Each day we reach into our pockets and remove one truth. Which piece of paper shall we remove first?

Nathan is a young man in his 20's, living in Gulfport, Mississippi. He lives with his mother and grandmother in a small 3 bedroom home a little over a mile off the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. When the hurricane hit, it took part of his roof, flooded a good part of his home, and placed even greater strain on his work as a landscaper. Nathan is the primary caregiver for both his mother and his grandmother. After Hurricane Katrina, Nathan spends his days helping others rebuild their homes only to return to repair his own home in the late afternoon before night sets in. Finances are tight, even though he receives military rations and gift cards to Lowe's Home Improvement to repair his roof. After 8 months of waiting, the FEMA trailer that was promised to him and his family was scheduled to be delivered. And then we came along.

In the wake of Katrina and Rita--I received the call to go on this mission as random as any other opportunity. 41 choosing souls responded. Out of the 41, a group of 10 of us from both the Jewish and Christian communities in Los Angeles spent 4 days cleaning up and rebuilding Nathan's home. Along with 5 other homes and stories like Nathan's, we collectively repaired some $30,000 worth of work for these people. And yes, they're satisfied with the results. There were professionals guiding us along every step of the way.

At first, I wanted nothing to know about this man, his background, his upbringing. I merely wanted to work until I was exhausted. It didn't really matter who I was helping--the goal was just to help. But, this would not be the case. This could not be the case. Every morning we showed up at Nathan's doorstep with tools in hand and the motivation to get to work. Conversations started, stories and histories shared, a friendship built. Each day brought a set of challenges with the construction. We had to go shopping for more materials. The framing nail gun broke and we had to purchase a new one. Lightning and thunderstorms slowed the project down. We entered his home, the mildewy remnant of a house where he was forced to live while his grandmother and mother were able to live in a borrowed trailer across town. On the night it rained, Nathan's roof was still exposed and in the one room of the house left in some habitable form - the last vestige of protection he had--his bed and personal belongings were drenched. It was a soaking reminder that his life was interminably affected by the harsh course of nature. We had to take his personal belongings and move them to a part of his house that was roofed, while simultaneously helping discard so many books, pictures . . . memories into the trash heap on the street.

No, we had to build a relationship with him--we were there to help and that meant when we rebuilt his home, we were rebuilding his faith and courage to continue on. Just as Levinas taught, " When we look into the eyes of another human being, we take responsibility for his humanity."

We easily forget that while everyone was so focused on putting the pieces back together, so many simple needs are overlooked, like a caring handshake and a hello. So, just as relevant was getting to know Nathan while we helped fix his house, what took place with Nathan's neighbors brought relief of another kind. Nathan's neighbor was a single woman who adopted two young boys to raise herself. They were all starving for conversation and interaction. When the little boys came home from school, we stopped our work for a few moments, went into the street and threw the football around with them. We came to build and we built, but the moments of relationship were the greatest blessings of our trip.

Choosing to act in the recognition of a need is a powerful, life-affirming step. The real complication today is that there are an infinite amount of volunteer opportunities and which cause to choose is daunting. Where choices are random amidst billions of choices--what you do with each choice can bring more order and light to the world.

2. An attitude of social responsibility and without concern for monetary profit:

It is Moses Maimonides who offers us sage guidance. " One who settles in a city for thirty days becomes obligated to contribute to the charity fund together with the other members of the community. One who settles there for three months becomes obligated to contribute to the soup kitchen. One who settles there for six months becomes obligated to contribute clothing with which the poor of the community can cover themselves. One who settles there for nine months becomes obligated to contribute to the burial fund for burying the community's poor and providing for all of their needs of burial." (Gifts to the Poor 9:12)

This hasn't just been theory! Streshin, a typical shtetl or Jewish village in Belarus, supported at least 15 charitable organizations. There was a burial society. They would provide guards to stay with the body from death to burial. The G'milut Chesed Society made interest-free loans to those in need. A group of women collected extra challah bread on Thursday mornings and distributed them to needy Jews in time for the Sabbath. There was a group who would raise money for families to travel to the city for medical care. They would also harvest ice from the Dnieper (Nee'pur) river every winter and store it in an underground cellar; the rest of the year they delivered ice to those suffering from fever. There was a Jewish Book Society that raised money for the lending library and invited lecturers from nearby cities, and so the list went on.

At its height in the 1880s, Streshin's Jewish population numbered 552. So why did these people have so many organizations? Because as Jews, this is what it means to be socially responsible.

The same is true even here in the United States. Nearly every important institution built in this country was built by volunteers. To be a citizen is to be socially responsible. Susan Ellis writes in her history of volunteers in America. "In the 17th century, anyone desiring an advanced degree was forced to turn to European universities. So, in 1636 a group of Massachusetts clergy founded the first American college [Harvard]. In 1700, ten of Connecticut's leading clergy established what was to become Yale College." The greater need for contact among the colonies prompted travelers to act as couriers so that, " By 1670, public demand had created a network of postmasters and regularized mail delivery routes. It would take another 80 years before the organization was even near to completion." 80 years of constantly committed groups of volunteers evolved for what is now a tremendous part of the infrastructure of this country. Postal services, educational institutions, militias, health care, political activism, all began as volunteer efforts which built and shaped our nation.

Social responsibility is a loaded term. Social responsibility no longer encompasses the neighbors on your block, or the destitute in your city limits. To be socially responsible today means taking on responsibility in the world, and finding the time to do that is near impossible. It truly takes an altruistic spirit to take on the world today.

The Talmud teaches: Whoever is able to protest against the wrongdoings of his family and fails to do so is responsible for the family's wrongdoings. Whoever is able to protest against the wrongdoings of his fellow citizens is responsible for the people of his city. Whoever is able to protest the wrongdoings of the world and does not do so is responsible for the entire world. (Shabbat 54b)

Another word for this kind of responsibility is " Volunteer Engagement." It is a term that has found its way into lexicons of corporations by hiring Corporate Responsibility Officers, law offices as pro-bono work, schools as PTA's and the now coveted community service hours for the students. Churches and synagogues are speaking at great length about volunteerism, and entire communities are built simply on the notion that to belong to the community you must commit a certain amount of hours of your time to some volunteer effort. Our Christian friends call this service or ministry. We call these Mitzvah Projects, Tikkun Olam, and Avodah--the latter translated as work, perhaps better as sacred work. Our Christian friends speak of being called to service. We talk of serving by making calls on Super Sunday!

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once observed like our ancient teachers, " Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness." Since the dawn of civilization, there is this struggle taking place for us and our souls. Where shall we walk--in the light of hope for a world renewed, or in the comfortable and resigned shadow of mediocrity? We bring this spirit home to Valley Beth Shalom ignited by a passionate and incredibly important social movement through the Jewish World Watch. If you have noticed, American media, and even the world is watching what is taking place in Sudan for a few minutes. It is a crisis that has been neglected for too long.

Ultimately, it is not how you give alone, but with what spirit you're giving that is what matters. It is an attitude of social responsibility that the volunteer carries with pride.

3. Going beyond one's basic obligations:

A salmon and a chicken decide to go have lunch. The chicken sees a placard on a deli that says, " Lox and eggs, $3.99."

" What a great deal! How about it?" the chicken says to the salmon.

With a wry look on his face, the salmon says, " Well, for you, I can see why it's a great deal. All you have to do is donate. But for me? I have to make a commitment."

It is a strange and uncomfortable way to define the volunteer--that to serve in the world is to go beyond one's basic obligations. We acknowledge the relative nature of such an assertion, but there is something sacred in giving more than your basic obligation. It is difficult to define beyond one's basic obligations until you take balance between your self interest and the unconditional interest for the other. You can simply feel it when you give gifts to loved ones--there are the gifts you have to give if you want to eat Latkes on Hanukkah, and there are the gifts you give because bringing that sense of joy and love to another--sharing that kindness from within you is truly therapeutic. It feels good!

Mitzvah Day is such a great entry point for this kind of work, but the real work begins the day after, the week, after, even months and years later. One act of kindness, nurtured and supported, creates real lasting change growth, confidence and trust in the world.

One volunteer, Sally, tells a moving story to illustrate this:

I sat in Mia's tiny second floor bedroom, as I had every Thursday afternoon for the past year. She was a 37-year-old hospice patient, dying of a rare blood disease. We talked, as we always did, of her 18-year-old son and his most recent antics. We watched the Young and the Restless. I lit Mia's cigarettes, carefully making sure the ashes didn't fall and burn her T-shirt. "Do you want to write in your Memory book this week, Mia?" "No," she quietly replied. "Not this week." As our visit was ending and I was getting ready to leave, Mia, somewhat anxiously, commented on the two bracelets I was wearing on my right wrist, the same two bracelets I had been wearing on my right wrist, every day, for the last 15 years. They were my cherished "button bracelets," one gold and one silver, given to me by my parents when I graduated from college. She asked me to try one on. Without hesitation, I "unbuttoned" my silver bracelet and fastened it on Mia's thin and fragile wrist. She held her wrist up to her eyes and began to cry. "What is it, why are you crying?" I asked? "This is the nicest present anyone has ever given me." Mia tearfully said. "Thank you so much. I'll never take it off." My stomach felt tight and my heart began to beat uncomfortably fast. Present? What was Mia thinking? I gave her my bracelet to try on, NOT to keep. But she's crying, she's so happy; I can't take it from her now.... I gave Mia a big hug and told her I would be honored for her to keep my bracelet, and wear it, and never take it off. I turned and left, walked down the stairs and out door, never to see Mia again. She died before my next visit. That last day with Mia, we gave gifts to each other, though I didn't know it at the time. I gave Mia my most cherished button bracelet, a piece of me, to keep close to her as she took her final steps from this world to the next. In turn, Mia gave me the gift of living. Everyday, now, when I look at my single gold button bracelet, I think of Mia. I think about how life is limited and can be taken from us well before we are ready to leave it. I remember to live every day as if it were my last, without regrets and to the fullest. To Mia, I thank you......

When we hear stories like this, we begin to understand the impact we can and must have on the world and for ourselves. If you speak to any person who has given of themselves, of their time, resources, and energies to truly help in the world, you palpably feel the impact it has on their lives. Where platitudes and gleaming superlatives of experiences overbear the senses, you have to experience the work yourself to truly understand how this all works. Dedicating yourself in some way to the betterment of others can be the most gratifying, life affirming work you can do in your lifetime.

This kind of work does not happen in one visit alone. You cannot possibly expect that one Mitzvah Day, one trip to the Food pantry on Thanksgiving, one visit to the Jewish Home for the Aging will produce the kind of reward. You can't " pay it forward" with out actually have an experience yourself to share! Our community acknowledges this need when it created Chesed Connection--the place where we are working on creating real, lasting, impactful work to bring Tikkun--to bring true healing to the world. Chesed Connection is our Volunteer Engagement program and we need volunteers.

Why commit to being more than a one time volunteer? Jill Friedman Fixler, a consultant on volunteering notes, " The word volunteer in Hebrew is mitnadev. The word literally means 'one who becomes noble.' The word reflects Judaism's attitude toward volunteering, namely that it is a self-transformative act of personal royalty and nobility. Moreover, the word mitnadev tells us that we should treat our volunteers with respect and honor, as if they were nobles visiting our congregations." Why commit? It is quite simply the most real and active step you can take in making our lives, our community, and this vast world a reflection of God--a reflection of hope--a reflection of wholeness.

For those of you who already make a commitment--a concerted act or series of acts that satisfy this definition--we applaud you. This year, we urge you all to take on the mitzvah year of volunteering--let the gulf mission be your starting point, let mitzvah day be your starting point. Start somewhere--the world is screaming for us--for you to reach out and help.

" Lo Aleicha HaM'lacha L'gmor" "It's not upon to you alone to finish the work." Look around you--you have all entered this room in some way or another having given something of yourself to help another in some way. "Lo Atah Ben Chorein L'Hibateil Meemenah." You are not free to turn the other way. Pay closer attention to the words - You are not Ben Choreen--reminiscent of the words from the Pesach Hagaddah--Avadim Hayinu, v'atah Bnai Choreen. We were enslaved and now we are free. We know the toils of a world of hopelessness, a world that cries for the help of others. Now we are free people who must commit to volunteering because we can! The work is not yet finished. The efforts of JWW are just beginning to make an impact. Your voices and support are still so desperately needed. " The work is not yet finished. Our brothers and sisters in Israel need your support, physically, emotionally, and financially. " The work is not finished. We're going back. We're going back to Mississippi next month because the work is not complete. If you cannot join us in October, mark your calendar for another time this year. Look for other opportunities for this kind of work. " The work is not yet finished. There is another in the world praying for you to answer their needs. May this year bring blessings of chesed, kindness, and tikkun--of healing.

Shanah Tovah.

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