blogs/rabbi-huberman

Kindness is the Religion

Hardly a day goes by that someone does not approach me with the words:

“Rabbi, I'm really not that religious.”

Often, when I meet with a family prior to the funeral of a loved one, they make the point, “Mom (or Dad) wasn't very religious.”

So, then I ask, “What are the enduring lessons that your Mother or Father taught you?”

And what follows almost every time are stories of a parent teaching their children how to be kind, how to be hospitable, how to do what is right, how to value family, how to work hard, how to live with integrity, and how to treasure tradition — as if somehow these traits are somehow distant from Judaism, and the continuity of the Jewish people.

So let me ask: If it were one or the other, do you think that God would request from us prayers and platitudes recited at fixed times of the day, week or year — or the performance of acts of lovingkindness, hour by hour, day by day?

At the height of the Yom Kippur service, we read a passage from the Book of Isaiah that tells us that fasting and prayer may be important, but these actions mean nothing unless we “share your bread with the hungry. Take the homeless into your home. Clothe the naked when you see them.”

It's a point worth considering from this week's Torah portion, titled Chayei Sarah — the life of Sarah — which in its opening sentence recounts the death of Sarah, Judaism's original matriarch.

In the aftermath of her passing, Sarah's tent lays empty. There is a hole in the heart of the Abraham's fledgling religion.

Soon after, Abraham sends his head servant, Eliezer, to find a bride for Isaac. Eliezer is given specific instructions what he is to look for: A woman who epitomizes kindness, hospitality, independence, tradition and loyalty.

When Eliezer arrives in Nahor, and asks for a drink at the communal well, Rebecca not only tips her jar to him, but offers to provide water for his entire camel fleet.

Rebecca ultimately agrees, with her entourage, to follow Eliezer back to the Negev. She and Isaac are attracted at first sight, and the fate of Judaism is secured.

I have always been fascinated by this Biblical story. Isn't it interesting that what Abraham was looking for in a second matriarch, was not riches, privilege or physicality, but rather a sustainable set of values centering around hospitality and a strong bias for action.

In last week's Torah portion, Sarah, with Abraham, provided food and beverage for three visiting angels. This week, Rebecca steps to the forefront by providing refreshment to both Eliezer, and to those beings who did not have the ability to speak for themselves.

And that my friends, is the primary directive that Judaism is founded upon.

We as a people are in constant motion — working with God to repair and complete this imperfect world.

And how do we measure the success of this endeavor? Is it the health of the economy, or does the world ultimately stand upon honesty, integrity, selflessness, sacrifice and kindness?

Would Judaism have survived had Rebecca not tipped her jar?

With all the plaudits directed towards Abraham, Jacob, Moses and others, isn't it more accurate to credit the foundation of Judaism, its passion for social action, and its dedication to kindness and the healing of the world, to Sarah and Rebecca?

Nowhere in the Torah is it written that either Sarah or Rebecca were the most knowledgeable in Talmud, or the loudest or most focused in their prayers.

Rather, it is their sense of hospitality and selflessness that continues to motivate us.

It also inspires us to ask — is there such a thing in God's eyes as being religious or not? More importantly, it is about being a mensch, a good human being. Those are our parents' and grandparents' most valuable lessons — whether they are regular Jews in the pews, or not.

Since ancient times, parents and grandparents have passed these sacred values L'Dor Vador — from generation to generation.

It began with Sarah and Abraham, and carried through Rebecca and those who followed, to you and me, and to generations to come.

What our tradition repeatedly teaches is that what God truly wants is a religion based on how we treat each other — particularly those less fortunate.

Each of us can feel it — as we have absorbed these founding values from those who preceded us.

In our hearts, we have learned from those who came before us, what true religion is.

It is kindness.

Really, is there anything else?

Shabbat Shalom, v’kol tuv,

Rabbi Irwin Huberman