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Who Is Trusted?

Rosh Hashana 2005 – 5766 by Rabbi Joshua Hoffman

Having never experienced nighttime before, Adam and Eve must have been quite anxious and full of fear as they witnessed their first sunset. One teaching has it that as the darkness approached and began to cast shadows over his face, the man thought to himself, 'I am doomed! Because of my sin, the world is darkened. It will become void and without form once again. This is the punishment of death which God has pronounced against me!' Both he and the woman spent the night in tears and agony, weeping for their end that was soon to come. They began to argue. "It is because we did not tend to the Garden," one said. "It was because we chased the animals," said the other. "We will surely die because you disobeyed God by eating the fruit from that Tree of Knowledge." "If you had not given me the fruit, this would not be happening!" "If you had answered God when He called to us, maybe He would have forgiven us." 

Throughout the night, their anguish lingered. They waited for the moment to come--for the chaos to emerge. But, when the sun began to rise again, what they perceived to be their punishment was only the course of nature. They got up, despite their apprehensions, and they brought an offering of gratitude and repentance to God. 

Adam and Eve's initial reaction and powerful response are very real. Nighttime brings fear--mistrust--the unknowable future. We learn that trust was implicit in the beginning of humanity's existence, but even by the first night that trust was blurred. Through their tears, God could have responded, but did not. And at the break of day, the man and woman could have been spiteful, recalcitrant, angry, and contentious. Instead, they brought an offering of love and understanding. 

There are times when it feels like we too are peering into the darkness with great fear for what that void may hold. We face this darkness more than once--these are times when that darkness is intensely personal; in the moments when we face the loss of a loved one or in the grim realization that we have limitations of body and spirit. We face the darkness every time we read the newspaper, every time we watch the television, every time our leaders and institutions leave us questioning their morality. These are the dark moments when we carefully watch the disengagement in Gaza, the proliferation of nuclear weapons in Iran and North Korea, Genocide in Africa, or when we hear of a war in Iraq that continually brings back news of more terrorism and death and little hope. And we argue about it. We have several pointing fingers and no plan of action. Our mistrust and fear of the future begins like Adam and Eve's but does not end with the break of a new day. 

For us, the next day comes and we're still waiting in the darkness. The next day comes with another breach of our trust. This has given birth to some catastrophic partners--indifference, complacency, and moral numbness. With all that we see in the world nurturing this doubt--the constant barrage of media bias, economic flux, and inconsistent rhetoric--trust, quite frankly, is not easy to come by. 

Trust, by definition, is the expression of confidence, integrity, and stability. Trust means reliance on something in the future. According the psychologist Erik Erikson, building trust is the first stage in human psychosocial development. Without it, our social development will constantly be tainted with caution and fear. Trust is more than emotion it is a way of being in the world learned through action. 

I know about building this kind of trust. Every time I hold my newborn daughter, I nurture this trust in her. I believe that as she wakes to this world, she will feel safe and confident and come to rely on the future. And then there are the nights. The nights are when as a parent, I've learned a whole new set of emotions in the forms of worry and fear. When the darkness comes, I often feel ill-equipped to respond. How will I explain terrorism to my children? How will I explain nuclear proliferation? How will I explain Genocide? How will I build my children's trust in this kind of world? 

I must make human these global issues by bringing them here to the synagogue. This is the only place I know where together, as individuals and collectively, we can respond to the darkness by building trust. It begins with a global response and ends with each one of us building trust in ourselves and in others. 

If I want to know something these days, I'm not in a rush to go to the library. I don't even think I would go to the bookstore first. When I want to know something these days, the first place I go to is Google. It is an Internet search engine capable of accessing everything from my next door neighbor's home phone number to the latest scholarly articles on cancer research. With it, you can Google (yes, it is now a verb) just about anything and instantaneously find results. Even for this talk, I decided to Google something relevant--Good High Holiday Sermon topics--and yes, there were thousands of entries for that too! Want to really have some fun with it? Google your own name and see what comes up! Thomas Friedman, in his book, The World is Flat, notes that:

In the age of the superpower search, everyone is a celebrity. Google levels information--it has no class boundaries or education boundaries. "If I can operate Google, I can find anything," said Alan Cohen, vice president of Airespace, a company that sells wireless technology. "Google is like God. God is wireless, God is everywhere, and God sees everything. Any questions in the world, you ask Google." (p.159)

What a powerful statement! "Google is like God." And he's somewhat right. "Any questions in the world, you can ask Google." This God is not like the God of the Egyptians or the Babylonians. This is no longer a God of natural and supernatural forces. This is a God of absolute autonomy. The new God of the Internet reveals "The more you know, the more you can control." With a few good satellites, some high powered wireless technology, and the patience to press those tiny little buttons on your Blackberry, you have unlimited possibility. Want to learn how to speak Japanese? No need to go to the local college. Just point and click, dono san. Want to learn more about kashrut? Don't ask your rabbi, go to the website, Ask Moses! 

Resources like Google and others are the products of this generation. This is what they globalization on the most personal and individual level. But, if I want to learn how to respond to my children--if I want to answer their questions about where they can find trust in this world -- possessing all this information produces too many answers, and not very many good ones at that. I could sit for days trying to sift through the thousands of pages I might find relating to a particular subject if I wanted. Since we are all learning that the world is moving as fast as the fiber-optic cables can transmit the information, we need some strong filters to place all this new knowledge into context. We need to know how to make sound decisions very quickly though this world doesn't give us a lot of time to ponder carefully before choosing. 

You've heard it before too. Parenting isn't so easy anymore with all this access to information. I look online, I read the books. With thousands of websites with the right answers, it's easy to get confused. They say germs are bad for you--no wait--they're good for you. Placing your child on the stomach is good for her. No wait, on the side. No, on the back! How is a sleep-deprived parent supposed to choose? How do we sift through all the possibilities? If we are to build trust with a laptop computer tucked under our arm, we need to learn how to choose wisely. 

Our rabbis knew about this need to get below the surface--to learn how to choose wisely in their own age of Globalization. In the smoldering ashes of the Temple's destruction, in the catastrophe of a broken society, a broken culture, and a broken faith, the rabbis saw a global community emerging and constructed a method for creating a context for their now universal experience. They knew that Jews would live great distances from each other. They knew that many cultures would influence how Jews would engage in business, how Jews would communicate, and even how Jews would express their longing to connect with God. In a sense, our Rabbis were the software engineers in their day. 

Take, for example, Shimon Ben Zoma. Shimon Ben Zoma taught us a famous lesson about building trust. Come every once in awhile on Shabbat and you may hear one of our talented B'nai Mitzvah teaching Ben Zoma's lesson:

Who is wise? The one who learns from all others
Who is strong? The one who conquers his own impulse
Who is wealthy? The one who is satisfied with his portion
Who is respected? The one who respects all of God's creations

"Who is wise?" he teaches. "The one who learns from all others" Conventional wisdom might lead us to conclude that the wise person is the accomplished scholar, the experienced academic who has found the deepest knowledge, and humbly sits before her students carefully choosing how to impart the vast wisdom she possesses. Ben Zoma pushes us further and shows us that wisdom is not intrinsic to the self. Wisdom is not an individual accomplishment earned through countless hours of study. Wisdom is an interactive endeavor. Wisdom is an "I-Thou" transformation in the language of philosopher Martin Buber. When I learn from you and I internalize your wisdom into my being, I am transformed. We are transformed. Wisdom is in shared relationship. 

"Who is strong? The one who controls his own impulses" Strength is found in our ability to relate even in challenging places. Strength is found in restraint. If we want to build trust, we cannot assert our will with the threat of force over those whom we disagree with. In Friedman's conception of Globalization, where the world stage is visible to all and the sheer number of people competing for the same resources is unconscionable - a different strength is called for. This is the strength to look inside, to find our best talents, and to make room for others to grow. Through the innovating self, an individual, a community, a nation can contribute to the global sharing of resources. 

"Who is wealthy?" "The one who is content with his own possessions" The application of this wisdom alone could build a lot of trust in the world. In it we witness the interplay of pluralism and particularity at its best. Wealth is a based on our own awareness and not in the envy of our neighbors. We learned this message in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. We learned that a poor person could be satisfied with nothing. We learned that we are not so callous and that we can share our resources to help out those ravaged by destruction. If we can build on the lessons we have learned in this past year alone, how we respond to Tsunamis and Hurricanes, facing the darkness seems that much easier. 

"Who is respected?" "The one who respects all God's Creations" Respect is not a matter of status. It is about how you walk the world. Respect is a global value built on the trusting principle. Respect is mutually shared. When we find a trusting person, he demonstrates a universal respect. His respect is not purchased--it is the reflection of his behavior toward others. There are people who behave disrespectfully every day. There may even be one person who will aggravate you walking down these halls after our services conclude. To build respect even in our community begins with you making the first step. When you act respectfully others will eventually follow suit. There is no sin we speak of here that is not plural. Each one of us is accountable. "What we do affects the entire community. No sin is a private affair." The one who is respected understands this. 

I wonder what the rabbis would make of today's conventional wisdom. Today's conventional wisdom is that the world is to be mistrusted. Today's conventional wisdom is that the fear of terrorism is not in the next bombing--the fear of terrorism is that we don't trust ourselves enough to adequately respond. If they asked the question, "Who is trusted?" how would they respond? Perhaps they might say, "The one who builds trust in himself." Take all of Ben Zoma's responses, a wisdom gained from others, a self-restraining strength, a wealth of personal satisfaction, and a respect that is mutually expressed. The one who lives this wisdom is capable of our trust. 

Teachings like this and countless others make their ways into the annals of the Rabbinic Internet search engine called, the Talmud. In the words of Adin Steinsaltz, the Talmud "is the central pillar supporting the entire spiritual and intellectual edifice of Jewish life." If you have taken a moment to examine this central work, you will notice it is hardly consistent or unified. The Talmud is a continuous stream of argument, digression, challenge, and dispute. If a clear answer comes from a Talmudic discussion, it is a rarity and, even when a prevailing opinion is advanced, the minority views are almost always expressed alongside it. It is a compilation of some 8 generations of rabbis, with each succeeding generation building on the learning of their predecessors, faithful to anything and everything that might be relevant to their present experience and the future they envisioned. The Talmud was for the Rabbis a virtual community. It was a virtual listserv of Jewish living - a virtual blog of belief and morality. And like a virtual community--its wisdom and its modeling are constructed for real-time practice. 

The rabbis saw their own world branching out like we do today. What was their response? Build a Beit Midrash--not the conventional notion that it is a sequestered retreat center where meditation and prayer can help us avoid the cacophony of too much stimuli. No, a Beit Midrash is a study place where the minority and majority views are expressed, where a rabbi can be wrong and still be heard, where the one who has the most to teach isn't always the most learned. It is within the walls of the Beit Midrash that we learn from heroic disputes. Within the walls of the Beit Midrash generations speak to each other and build trust through discourse. In the Beit Midrash we find these models for building trust. The response to building a trusting community is building a place where conflict is permitted. It is a place where truth is the goal and only through the sharing of differences can the truth be discerned. In the Beit Midrash, we all have a stake in how our community behaves. 

Admittedly, sustaining a Beit Midrash today is a bit more complicated. We have to filter through about 2.2 billion possible web pages (and I am not exaggerating) relating to the subject of community to begin to grasp the power it wields for us in this realm of existence. Ben Zoma's wisdom and the wisdom of our Rabbis are the results of our search. Their virtual community demands our real application. "Who is trusted?" We ask? It is the person who learns from others, controls his impulses, is happy with his lot, and respects all others. 

You can look in the Mahzor during these days too. Listen to our tradition. We have a pattern for building trust in ourselves right in front of us. It begins when we hear the Shofar. We listen to its piercing call to wake us up from our indifference. We listen to the call for Teshuvah, (Repentance) Tefillah, (Prayer) Tzedakah (Charity) - a pattern of reflection and transformation. These are the trust building actions in you and in others. They are present, real, and active. Standing with the Mahzor in the face of the unknown, these are three powerful ways you can respond. 

I'd like to share some powerful words that a friend shared with me this year--by the Internet, nonetheless.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. . . . It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Another story has Adam responding to his first experience with darkness a little differently. In this story God takes pity on him and directs him to discover two rocks--two things we're most afraid of--one named darkness and the other named the shadow of death. Adam chooses--by instinct--to strike the two rocks together and as a result discovers fire to bring light to the night. In his newfound understanding he recites the blessing, "Baruch Atah Adonai, Borei M'Orei HaAysh." Blessed is the One who creates Light. 

During these days, build trust anew with our loved ones. Give them a hug--let us prove to each other that we are to be trusted. Build trust with our friends by appreciating their possessions as much as our own. Build trust in our community by showing respect first and modeling the type of respect we would like to receive. Build trust in this vast world by setting out to learn from everyone who walks the world with us. Try looking at yourself this way for these days. Reflect on your ability to be wise, strong, wealthy, and respected. You can build trust in yourself and others. 

We will face dark moments, tonight, tomorrow, every night. But tomorrow, bring an offering of gratitude, acceptance, and trust. 

L'Shana Tovah


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Thu, March 28 2024 18 Adar II 5784