The Dog is in the Courtyard

““Ha’kelev ba’chatzer!” said the small child in his stroller, the night breeze refreshing the couple and their child after the hot August day. The child pointed toward a ceramic figurine in a neighbor’s front yard garden. “The dog is in the courtyard.”

The father, not really paying attention, offered what he thought was the appropriate gentle correction, “HaMelech ba’sadeh—the King is in the field.”

The King is in the field is an expression in heavy use during the month of Elul, a time of Jewish repentance, when the King (Hashem), is said to be accessible to all, even to the farmer in the field. He comes to us, wherever we are; ready to listen to what we have to say for ourselves.

The child in the stroller, desperate now to make his point, since his parents were in the process of wheeling him past the object in question, repeated his words, this time with more force, “Ha’kelev ba’chatzer!”

Once again the father reinforced the child’s impression that nobody was listening, “Ken—yes. HaMelech ba’sadeh—the King is in the field.”

It all happened in a matter of moments. My sedentary job writing for Kars for Kids had begun to affect my weight. I’d just come out for an evening power walk as part of a new resolution to get some exercise, get back in shape. They, the couple with the child, were passing my home.

This was a couple of days ago. And as trivial as it may seem, I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. This brief interaction, this small parenting “fail” seemed to me symbolic of something much larger.

It’s this: if man is created in the image of God and God stands ready to listen to us in Elul, even coming out to meet us on our own terms then what of this father? He was preoccupied with repentance, as he should be at this time of year, but did his behavior reflect that of a receptive and listening King?

He hadn’t met his child on the child’s own terms. He hadn’t allowed his eyes to follow the trajectory of his son’s pointing finger. If he had, he would surely have seen the lawn sculpture that looked to his child like nothing so much as a dog in a courtyard. This father failed to put himself in his son’s place, to see things from his child’s perspective and so failed the listening test.

Since I passed that couple and their child, I’ve been watchful. I’ve noted many cases where people are talking yet not listening to each other. Not really.

Like the woman who tried to tell me lashon hara (a category of prohibited speech). “It’s not lashon hara,” she said. “Three rabbis told me it’s not.”

But it was and I didn’t want to hear it. Still, she remained oblivious to me and my concerns.

Like the woman who left a comment on a facebook posting that sounded to me like dibat haaretz, a prohibited form of tale-bearing against the Holy Land meant to leave a negative impression. I removed her comment and used the standard Facebook message form to tell her what I found objectionable.

“That’s not dibat haaretz,” she said, citing her husband’s opinion on the matter as authoritative.

But it was. I didn’t want to read that or have my friends read it either. Yet she remained defensive, not allowing for my concerns.

Once more it happened, just today. I was tagged on a post I found objectionable. I “untagged” myself. I politely explained that I don’t post articles that slander Jews or Israel.

Necessary Slander??

The tagger tried to convince me that the post was not slander. Then he tried to convince me it was necessary slander to correct a greater ill. The more I tried to demur, the more forcefully he argued his point.

It began to fall into place for me, how being receptive to others is crucial to the act of repentance. When we don’t listen, we’re being stubborn. We’re demanding that things go our way. We’re not letting go and moving forward. We’re stubbornly holding on to our (sinful) status quo.

I am guilty, too—as guilty as anyone else. There are times I could shoot myself for saying something I know I shouldn’t, even as the words come out my mouth. There are times I pretend I don’t see a person’s body language telling me to STOP RIGHT NOW—I DON’T WANT TO HEAR THIS.

In the not listening, in not seeing things as they really are, we are as stuck as stuck can be. We stay where we are, stuck in our own vanity, and in our own human failings. We remain in stasis.

The King is in the field, but it’s up to us to meet Him and to be receptive to the lessons that are all around us: that come at us from our fellow human beings. We’re each of us as fallible as the next. But if we’ll just listen with all we’ve got, we may get somewhere.

We may just meet the King.

Choosing God Over the Tooth Fairy--Dedicated to Bernie Newman

My friend Bernie Newman asked me why I believe in God as opposed to say, the Tooth Fairy. I gave him a very long response and thought to blog it it since it goes to the essence of why I have become religious.

This is from the word I gave at my daughter Malka's Bas Mitzvah:

There's a Midrash that says that when the angels got wind of the fact that Hashem (God) was about to create another human being--Eve--they complained. They said to Hashem, "Why are you going to create another one of those things? They SIN!"

Hashem told the angels, "Don't worry. This new creature will be different. I will create her so that it won't be in her nature to sin."

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch said that when Hashem split Eve from Adam, Eve/woman was given man's portion of innate spirituality.

Because Adam/man lost this part of himself, he would always be at risk for becoming at sea with his spirituality--would always need to actively tie himself to Hashem by dint of doing many mitzvos (commandments). Without the mitzvos, man loses his connection to his spirituality.

Take the mitzvah (commandment) of sukkah*, for instance. Men are commanded to dwell in the sukkah for an entire week. Women have no such commandment. Men need to enact the drama of living in the desert under the stars for a whole week so as to connect them to the history of their ancestors' lengthy desert-wandering. That little playing-out of ancient history is exactly what they need to get them through another year of their Jewish existence while they live out their day-to-day drudgery.

Women, on the other hand, have no need of all of those commandments because they have a direct spiritual tie to Hashem. It's inborn. Men have to strive, women are already there, close to Hashem every second of every day.

In the morning service, there is a series of blessings called the Negative Blessings. We say thank God I'm not this, and thank God I'm not that. Many feminists get P.O.'ed about the blessing that men say: Thank God I'm not a woman.

Rashi explains that men are thanking God for having more commandments--that the more commandments we have, the greater our quality of life. So, a free man has more commandments than a slave, and so forth. A man has more commandments than a woman. That's the real meaning of those blessings: we express our gratitude for what we get out of living a Torah life and fulfilling the mitzvos.

Within all those negative blessings, there is a single affirmation. Women say (channeling Popeye??): Thank God I am what I am.

I love that. Woman is saying: Thank you for creating me with innate spirituality, for making me a special kind of human being with a direct tie to You, for making me someone who isn't so inclined to sin. I am happy with my portion, even grateful!

Man, on the other hand, is lucky to have those many commandments because he needs them. It helps him alter his life from one of humdrum toil to a life that has meaning. So a man who strives to follow the mitzvos is joyful for having this constant tool for attaining the spiritual.

A woman is every bit as joyful because of her unique position of having been born spiritually whole.

As I explained to Bernie, either you buy it or you don't. There is nothing one can say about the Tooth Fairy that will speak to my soul. The reason is something inborn, because I'm a woman--a Jewish woman.

It's much harder for a man to come to and maintain faith and spirituality. It requires striving. This is what I believe with all my heart.

*Sukkah-a temporary hut that is central to the holiday of Sukkos.