Sunday, December 11, 2011

The Thief Within



The Thief Within


A story from the Talmud: Mar Zutra, a great scholar known for his piety, once had occasion to travel. The journey took several days and he stayed at various inns along the way. One inn was what we would call “upscale,” and offered its patrons excellent accommodations and a fine dining experience. To add to the atmosphere, for example, beverages were served in pure silver vessels.

During one of the meals the pleasant atmosphere was disturbed by the desperate cries of the landlord. One of the silver vessels, worth quite hefty sum, had been stolen. An uproar ensued, and it was all the landlord could do to restore order. But he was still in a quandary: one of his guests had stolen something of considerable value. He couldn’t very well go around accusing all his guests - aside from ruining his reputation and business, he had nothing to go on. On the other hand, if he didn’t catch the thief, not only would he suffer the financial loss, but word get out that his was not a secure establishment.

In desperation, knowing that a great Sage was staying at the inn, the landlord turned to Mar Zutra for help. Mar Zutra agreed to do what he could. So he sat in the large dining room and watched. After a while he called over the landlord and pointed out a young man. “That is your thief.” The landlord of course asked Mar Zutra was he sure and how did he know. Mar Zutra replied, “I observed this person wash his hands and, seeing no towel about, dry them on someone else’s garment. That showed me he has no consideration for other people’s property.” The landlord confronted the young man who, when presented with the reasoning of Mar Zutra, confessed.

Of course, there is more to this story than the cleverness of Mar Zutra. There is a lesson for all of us. Too often we think of stealing only in terms of “big ticket” items. By that I mean more than just stealing thousands from a bank, defrauding customers or investors, carjacking, robbery whether of a convenience store or an individual on the street. When we think of stealing we think of taking something that doesn’t belong to us. Or rather, some thing. It doesn’t matter if that thing is a valuable silver vessel or a candy bar from the drug store.

But Mar Zutra saw that theft starts at a deeper, more internal level. Stealing begins with an attitude, and that attitude manifests itself first, if not foremost, in discourtesy. We might think the thief took nothing when he dried his hands on someone else’s garment. After all, the thief’s hands were already clean - he’d just washed them. So it wasn’t as if he was soiling the garment. He was just getting it a little wet. A few minutes later, and who would have known?

But from one perspective, that was the bigger theft. In what way is being discourteous, being disrespectful, a bigger theft than actually stealing something worth hundreds of dollars? Let’s consider some common examples of “drying  your hands on someone else’s garment”: a driver who, in a traffic jam, cuts in front of others; people in a store or on a line who don’t wait their turn, verbally pushing someone out of the way; interrupting a conversation to take a phone call - or one phone call to take another (call waiting as theft of the other person’s time); not picking up after your dog - or letting it go on another person’s yard to begin with. 

These are minor irritants, small affronts to another person’s dignity, a flippant dismissal of the other person’s self-worth. Why are they, in one sense, worse than outright theft of a diamond necklace or a silver vessel?

There is a two-fold answer: The theft of a valuable object, while invasive and a violation of the other person’s psychic space, at least can be rationalized. Much as the victim feels vulnerable, much as the victim has been hurt, at least there is the explanation that it wasn’t personal. The thief wanted the thing, and the owner was in the way. This doesn’t minimize the harm done or the evil of the act. One of the Seven Universal Commandments is - don’t steal. Anything. At any level.

But for the victim, the assault on his dignity, the denigration of her self-worth, comes as a result of - through - the theft of the object. And so for the thief, the primary objective is the thing, not the person harmed.

However, when one “dries his hands on another’s garment” - in any of its manifestations, whether those mentioned above or another - the primary result is the disrespect. It’s not that the person needs to dry his or her hands - if so, the thief’s own garment would do. It’s that the other person doesn’t matter. The other person has no significance. The Divine Providence that put, so to speak, that person ahead of you in the line, the other person’s house on this street, is ignored, in a sense blasphemed and spat upon. The theft of another’s dignity - even when that person is not aware of it - declares that what G-d thinks is significant, you don’t; that how G-d orders things doesn’t matter; and that who G-d creates space and time for, you don’t have room for.

This leads to the second part of the answer: such an attitude steals not only from the other person, but primarily from one’s self. There is a spiritual mirror effect at work in the world: Disregard for another is disregard for one’s own soul. Drying the hands on another’s garment can only be done by dirtying one’s own.

Friday, September 9, 2011

The Nature of Fear


Fear, of course, is an instinct - it's half the 'fight or flight' response hard-wired into our nervous system. But these two responses aren't equal. One is always stronger than the other, both in an individual, and in a given situation. Thus, the individual whose first response might be flight - be afraid and run away - might, in a particular case - react differently. The first reaction might be to fight - to attack and destroy the threat. That reaction might come from an instantaneous assessment that one is stronger than the threat, or it may come from the very nature of the threat. This threat I attack, that threat I flee.

The first thing we flee, the thing we are hard-wired to fear, is pain. Physical pain. But we also fear emotional pain. And intellectual pain. 

There's a difference between fear and pain: Fear is an emotion. An emotion of the future. It's based on experience, of course. Infants and fools are fearless, the saying goes, because they don't know better. Fear teaches us to "know better." 

It also deceives us. Fear creates false pain - magnifying what is, or what might be, or even what must be. How often after a painful experience - that can include giving a speech or the like - do we say, "that wasn't as bad as I thought"? Or, "that wasn't as painful as I expected"?

Pain of any kind is an experience of the moment. Pain exists in the present tense, and only in the present tense - unless we recall it to memory and re-experience it. Or unless we make it seem real out if its time and out of its proportion, but giving it jurisdiction over the future. But the pain of then doesn't hurt now. It's the pain of now that hurts now. We just turn the pain of then into the pain of now through fear.

Of course, there are things we should be afraid of. Experience is in truth a good teacher. But fear becomes stronger through self-deception - or allowing others to play on our fears.

In the book of Deuteronomy, among the curses for not following G-d's Will and doing His commandments, is one that states the people will flee in fear though no one pursues. A leaf will wave in the wind and the people will think an army chases them.

A day of terror should not become a lifetime of fear. A moment of evil should not define the future. 

"We have nothing to fear but fear itself."

There is, however, another kind of fear, although fear is the wrong word. Awe is a better word, though, they are sometimes used interchangeably when talking of the Divine. "Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." But the meaning here is reverence, being overwhelmed, humbled. That's a different kind of fear - the kind we shouldn't fear, but embrace.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Hurricanes and Earthquakes


Natural disasters, by their nature, raise the question of Divine Providence. How can G-d let this happen? How can so many innocent lives be lost?

When we see a person or a group of people committing great evil, it appears we can understand how it happens: human beings have free choice, and that person chose to do something evil. The consequences, well, G-d will see to that. 

But hurricanes, earthquakes - the flooding of homes, the dispersal of people, the cost psychologically, financially, to say nothing of physical hardship, pain, suffering and loss - where is the Divine Justice in that?

Some so-called "modern" thinkers have posited that either G-d is not All-Knowing, or He is not All-Powerful, or He is not All-Just (and by definition of "just," All-Merciful). In other words, Divine Omniscience, Divine Omnipotence and Divine Justice cannot all be true and operative. Two of the three, maybe, but not all three.

I say "modern" because this is an old question in theodicy, the study of Divine Justice. It's one, if not the, central subject of the book of Job. And it's no coincidence that G-d answers Job out of the whirlwind. Maimonides in his Guide for the Perplexed analyzes at length the concepts in the book of Job. 

So the question really does not disprove the assertion that G-d is simultaneously Omniscient, Omnipotent and Just. (Indeed, is that not the definition of G-d?) All the question does is raise itself: confronted with the unknowable or the unanswerable, how do we respond? How should we respond?

In other words, one can reject the very basis for belief in G-d. Many so-called "rationalists" or "modernists" do. Or one can accept the limitations of the human mind and human intellect. In a semi-comic vein, Tevye asks, in the song "If I Were a Rich Man," "would it spoil some vast Eternal Plan?" The simple answer is, yes, as a matter of fact, it would.

When we put on a philosopher's hat or a theologian's coat, we can enter the world of paradoxes and debates. But we must always bear in mind the statement of Rabbi Yannai that "we are unable to understand either the well-being of the wicked or the tribulations of the righteous." When it comes to the true, inner, spiritual reality, what you see outwardly is not necessarily what you get.

Nevertheless, the question remains - if we can't understand the WHY of a natural disaster, how are we to respond? For that, there is an answer. When confronted with tragedy, with the suffering of another, our task is not to understand the Divine reasons or judge the moral and spiritual value of the sufferer. Our Divinely ordained task is to increase in acts of goodness and kindness. Our focus must be on deeds that civilize, correct, heal, restore and improve.

If a hundreds-year old bridge is washed away, if a library is flooded, if a family is dispersed, if an individual needs medical care, if a child needs counseling - our task is to do, to get it done, to make goodness and kindness happen, not because we're such wonderful people, though we may be, but because that's our job. And that includes fixing what can be fixed - preventive measures - and in both cases figuring out the cost afterwards. 

Asking Why and How Much both divert us from the essential question: What is the next act of goodness and kindness that I can perform, the act that will transform the world?


Friday, September 2, 2011

Soul, Time and World


One of the principles of Jewish mystical thought is the parallel between the physical structure of the human being and the spiritual structure of creation. 

One such mystical concept is the three layer structure: there is an inner spiritual - and physical - layer, a middle layer and an external layer. Spiritually speaking, these are the soul, time and world. A human being possesses all three aspects. (We'll come back to this.)

The human embryo also develops in three layers - endoderm (inner), mesoderm (middle), ectoderm (outer).
The endoderm forms the lungs, thyroid, and pancreas; it also produces the stomach, intestines, etc. From the endoderm comes the respiratory and the digestive systems. Ironically, our innermost layer is the one with the most direct contact with what's outside us: air, food and water enter through endoderm organs. 
"And the L-rd G-d formed man of the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul" (Gen. 2:7). We are soul-connected to our Divine origin.

The mesoderm, the middle layer, forms the skeleton and its muscles, connective tissues, the heart, blood, kidney and spleen. The middle spiritual layer is time - movement. The heart beats; there is rhythm. The skeleton and the muscles enable us to move. Time is a measurement of movement. And it is through time that the soul connects with the world. 

The ectoderm, the outer layer, forms the epidermis (skin), the central nervous system and the sensory organs. It is our sense of self, which psychologists tell us is the most external part of our being - the unconscious or subconscious (the endodermic or inner layer - the soul layer) being where most of "who we are" resides. (Athletes and performers know this: they become truly one - "in the zone" - with the performance or the act, and "lose" the sense of self.) The world outside us we perceive - and thus interact with - through barriers. There are borders to our perceptions (we cannot see ultraviolet light, for example, and need it "translated" into the visible spectrum). 

And now, so what? What is at least one lesson from this observation?

Agency: we require agency - the senses, including our skin, and their "interpreter," the central nervous system - in order to affect the world. We affect the world by how we move through it - movement, which is time, that results in change. And we ourselves, at our innermost core, are agents of G-d - we are sustained by the Divine  "breath of life" breathed within us.

Thus, our formation, physical and spiritual, indicates that we are an expression of G-dliness and the Divine life force within us. Let us reveal that as we move through life, for our movement automatically changes the world.





Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Images


There are many cliches that describe the power of what we see: "Seeing is believing." (Or the contrary, "don't believe everything you see," indicating by the negative how powerful an influence sight has on belief.) "A picture is worth a thousand words." "What you see is what you get." "I saw it with my own eyes." Etc.

Jewish Sages attest to the power of the eye to lead astray: "the eye sees, the heart desires, the person sins." One can harm by just a glance, such is the power of the "evil eye" - one can attract the attention, the gaze, of evil. Or turn such a gaze on another.

Of course, there is also the "good eye," generating an aura of benevolence by one's look. How we see things defines our attitude and creates an atmosphere: "Look on others with a "good eye."

We are hard-wired for sight. We can debate which sense, sight or hearing, is currently dominant in human beings, but we clearly operate in a visual world. One reason infants sleep so much is they need to form neurons to process information. They need to sort things out in the brain, as they work through the sensory overload they receive from their five senses. And a major part of that work is making sense of what they see. (Consider how much time an infant spends staring at his or her hand, moving it back and forth, perfecting the eye-hand coordination.)

All this raises a question: Why do we recall some images more than others? Why do some images - sights - come to mind constantly and others not at all?

We "see in our mind's eye" not just those we see more physically. We see trees constantly, for instance, but that rarely is an image that comes to mind, unbidden or otherwise.

Things out of context, things associated with trauma, things associated with triumph - the brain-sight recalls these strongly. These may be things that attract or things that repel.

I see two lessons from all this: One, our vision is limited to a very narrow part of the light spectrum. For all we see, even in such detail, there is so much more that we don't see. This should give us pause. If we can see so little, should we not strive to see as much value as we can? We should ask ourselves, is there spiritual significance in what I'm looking at? Does what I'm seeing inspire me to acts of goodness and kindness, does it enhance my understanding or appreciation of G-dliness?

We cannot always answer yes, but we should at least be truthful about the answer.

The second lesson emphasizes the importance of the commandment, Do Not Worship Idols - the first of the seven universal commands that apply to all humanity. Idolatry begins not with belief, but with sight. It is not just seeing things that should not be seen. Most of us turn away from, don't look at, filth. Unless mesmerized, we don't gaze upon the corrupt. Idolatry involves "misunderstanding what we see" - and that misunderstanding is often a conscious self-deception.

There is G-dliness within creation, a perceptible G-dliness. That should be the indelible image in our eyes, the image we see in our eyes.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Consolation



Trying to explain the death of a loved one is generally not a good idea. Grief is personal, emotional, while explanations are general - often generic - and attempt to be rational. (I say attempt because so often explanations fail the logic test.)

Still, we do have a rational component and at some level we want the universe to make sense - especially when it seems most senseless. Sometimes, then, death, while heart-rendering, doesn't disorient our minds or overly challenge our beliefs. For example, when an elderly parent passes away in his or her sleep, with the grief may be a sense of balance, almost gratitude - since death is inevitable, this at least was a life well lived, and we feel assured that it was only a passage, deserved and earned, to a better world. On the other hand, when an evil person dies, there is some satisfaction that, at least to some degree, there is a measure of justice even in this world.

There are other deaths that seem void of reason or shake our belief. And if they don't challenge us, require us to think deeply about faith - its reality and transformative nature - perhaps the belief itself is superficial. It's not just that one should "stand firm" - a solid wall can still be undermined, battered or demolished. The strongest faith demands questions, even doubts. When faced with the unanswerable, the response is two-fold: to nevertheless continue to examine, search, expect, even demand an answer and at the same time to strengthen one's faith - to experience more powerfully the presence of G-dliness. 

(By analogy, when a person G-d forbid has a life-threatening illness, yet the doctor assures the person that such-and-such a treatment will cure the disease, at the initial stage questions will be many but scattered, and acceptance of the doctor's expertise complete but with a drop of anxiety. As the process becomes more intense - the disease seems to be worsening (it's darkest before the dawn) and the treatment more difficult, the questions become more learned and sophisticated and the demands become more urgent. At the same time, the reliance on, trust in, the medical professionals becomes deeper, more intimate. Such is the nature of a life-altering experience.)

On the level of the soul, there are many explanations, but which one applies in the case that shocks or grieves us, is beyond the apprehension of all but a prophet. When a natural disaster strikes, taking this young life but sparing that, or G-d forbid a person, especially a young person, dies tragically, prematurely, who can know the Divine mission of that person's soul? It may be the soul descended from the heights of Heaven to perform a small, to us insignificant, act. The tying of a shoelace may reverberate in the Heavenly spheres, calling forth or revealing a level of G-dliness otherwise hidden or inaccessible. Who knows what a gesture, the presence, or mere existence of one person has done for the soul of another?

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Governance or Power?


One of the Seven Universal Laws is to set up a court system. It's the only one phrased in the positive. The others - don't worship idols, don't blaspheme, don't murder, don't steal, don't be sexually immoral, don't take the limb of a living animal (don't be cruel to animals) - are phrased as negatives, things we shouldn't do. Setting up a court system is the only active commandment that applies to all humanity.

(The Seven Universal Laws are the basis of civilization. According to the Torah, when the six hundred thirteen commandments were given to the Jewish people at Sinai, these seven, also known as the Noachide laws because everyone is descended from Noah, were given to the world. Thus every human being is obligated, by Divine Imperative, to create a world of goodness and kindness.)

The uniqueness of the commandment to set up a court system requires examination. Courts are the arbiters not just of justice, but of government. It used to be that the king was the court of last resort. Ecclesiastical (religious) power expressed itself in a special legal and court system. Legislation is valid subject to judicial review. Etc.

Thus, while government is more than the sum of its courts, a society thrives - or not - on the success, that is, the justness, of its courts.

That said, the Talmud makes two apparently contradictory statements concerning government and its function. One statement declares, "Be wary of those in power, for they befriend a person only for their own benefit; they seem to be friends when it is to their advantage, but they do not stand by a person in his hour of need."

The other states, "Pray for the welfare of the government, for were it not for the fear of it, people would swallow each other alive."

So which is it? Both!

The first warns against those with power - not just government. When power accumulates to individuals or groups outside the "court system" and its structure - beware. The second speaks not of individuals or groups - those with authority, control or might - but of government, institutions set up to regulate society and its affairs. In other words, we have a vested interest - should pray for - a stable government; to be stable, a government must have, at its core, a court system that ensures and enforces justice, fairness and equity - to all citizens.