blogs/rabbi-huberman

A story in the Talmud tells of the wise Rabbi Elazar, who thinks he knows it all.

One day, Rabbi Elazar is riding his donkey along the banks of a river. He has just finished a study session with his mentor, and—as we would term it today—is “extremely full of himself.”

Observes the Talmud, “Rabbi Elazar was feeling happy and elated because he had studied much Torah.”

As he rode along the riverbanks, he met an exceedingly ugly man who greeted him, “Peace be upon you, Rabbi.”

To which Rabbi Elazar replied, “Empty, lowly one. How ugly you are. Is everyone in your town as ugly as you are?”

To which the stranger replied, “I do not know, but go and tell God, the craftsman who made me.  ‘How ugly is the vessel which you have made.’”

Immediately, Rabbi Elazar realized what an arrogant fool he had been. He recognized that for all the knowledge he had absorbed, it meant nothing if he did not put those concepts into action with kindness and compassion.

He apologized to the man, vowed to never speak that way to anyone ever again, and then took it a step further.

He gathered his students and taught a lesson about the instrument one should use to write a Torah or a mezuzah.

He noted, that a Torah should never be written with a stiff writing implement, such as a piece of wood or eventually a pen—but rather with a reed or a feather.

The Talmud teaches:

“A person should always be soft like a reed and should not be stiff like a cedar…therefore, due to its gentle qualities, the reed merited that a quill is taken from it to write with it a Torah scroll.”

The story of the Rabbi and the “ugly man”  is one of my favorites because it reminds that the rituals, prayers and teachings that Judaism offers, mean nothing unless we apply them—with kindness—to real life.

The Rabbi Elazar teaching comes into play especially today, as we celebrate Simchat Torah—a time to commemorate the completion of our yearly Torah cycle.

There are 54 sections to the Torah spread over the five books of Moses. Earlier today, we completed reading the Book of Deuteronomy, which ends with the death of Moses and the passing of the torch to Joshua, as the Israelites stand poised to enter the Promised Land.

Officially, it’s the end. But actually, it isn’t. Pirkei Avot, our collection of wise rabbinic teachings, begins its volumes by stating:

“Moses received Torah at Sinai and transmitted it to Joshua, Joshua to the elders, and the elders to the prophets, and the prophets to the Men of the Great Assembly.”

And from there, Torah was passed to the rabbis, and I would argue then to parents and grandparents. For as the Shema Yisrael prayer reminds us, it is our duty to teach “these words” to our children.

And what are these words? ”Torah” as opposed to “the Torah” does not consist of rigid biblical quotes, but rather flexible concepts—most importantly how to interact with our fellow human beings of all backgrounds, beliefs and perspectives.

And, that we never judge another person as inherently “ugly” or unworthy of basic dignity. I heard somewhere in my travels this week, “I can understand if God speaks to you and tells you what to do. But please don’t tell me what to do.”

It is an issue of respect. My Torah teaches that each of us has a unique understanding of God—and, therefore, a slightly different perspective of how we can put God’s word into action.

“Honor your neighbor as yourself.” We need to expand—not restrict—who we define as our neighbors.

“Welcome the widow, the orphan and the stranger,” appears 36 times in the Torah. These days, society spends too much time rejecting the stranger rather than giving each person—created by the Craftsman the benefit of the doubt.

“Feed the hungry, take in the unhoused and clothe the naked.” The prophet Isaiah reminds us—especially on Yom Kippur—that all the prayer and fasting means nothing if we do not attend to those in need.

Rather, as Rabbi Elazar painfully learned from a supposedly lowly person, we need to put our beliefs into action.

This past week, I attended a concert by the legendary folksinger Tom Paxton.  In a song he wrote decades ago, he reminds us, “If the poor don't matter, then neither do I.”

And so, as we prepare to return to the beginning of the Bible, with its account of creation—including humanity—we end this year’s Torah reading with a message:

While finishing the Torah and its 79,980 words is reason to celebrate, the words mean nothing unless we apply them with kindness and compassion. Most importantly, we must teach these values to our children.

Through the story of Elazar and the “ugly man,” the Torah reminds us that beauty within each of us lays below the surface.

As we leave the High Holidays—let us remember to open our hearts to others—even when they don’t see things the way we do.

And let us also consider that some of our wisest teachers are those we meet on the street, on the subway or walking alongside us each day.

Therefore, let us live our lives as flexible as a reed, never as stiff as a piece of wood, and—especially during these challenging times.

For each of us was created by the Craftsman.

As we return this week to the beginning of the Torah, it is important for us to look below the surface in all things, and live a life of respect, understanding and flexibility.

For there is beauty inherent in all creation.

Chag Sameach. Shabbat Shalom.

Rabbi Irwin Huberman