blogs/rabbi-huberman

Is the World Good or Bad?

One of the strangest conversations of my rabbinate took place recently as services ended one Shabbat morning.

A visitor to our congregation approached me to offer his objections to the Prayer for our Country which we recite each Sabbath morning, just before returning the Torah to the ark.

In part, the prayer reads "Creator of all flesh, bless all the inhabitants of our country with Your spirit. May citizens of all races and creeds forge a common bond in true harmony to banish all hatred and bigotry and to safeguard the ideals and free institutions which are the pride and glory of our country."

"Rabbi," he said, "I found what you called the Prayer for our Country troubling. I don't believe that clergy should be making political commentaries, especially these days."

The comment took me aback. What I found most intriguing was that ideas in the prayer, which you can read by clicking http://cbitoledo.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/Prayer_For_Our_-Country.pdf,have remained so consistently relevant since it was penned by Louis Ginzberg about ninety years ago.

The words have never changed. Just how we read them.

Experts who study personal communications refer to a phenomenon called "evidence gathering." We know it well. Once a personal relationship falls into disrepair, no matter what we say-or the other person says-words and intentions can be interpreted in the worst possible light, as if we have an invisible evidence folder attached to our souls.

We cease to recognize the positive in another person.

And so it is for Moses, our greatest teacher, who at the end of his life must accept that he will not be joining the Israelites as they enter the Promised Land.

At the beginning of this week's Torah portion, Moses approaches God one last time. He begs: "Let me please go over and see the good in the land." (Deuteronomy 3:25).

But: "No," Gold tells him. "Never speak to Me of this matter again."

We can feel Moses's heartbreak.

Moses, who never asked for the job as leader of the Israelites.

Moses, who risked his life demanding of Pharaoh to "let my people go."

Moses, who had to contend against the whining and complaining of the Jewish people, year after year.

Didn't he deserve better?

For centuries, commentators have dissected this sentence. They have focused on this last request, which was so powerful it is said that "the entire world shook."

But one our greatest rabbis, Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotsk (1787-1859), offered a different take. He focused on the phrase see the good and concluded that all Moses wanted, in the end-after a lifetime of bearing witness to the worst in people-was to depart his earthly life with the conviction that, ultimately, the world is a good place.

In reality, said the Kotzker Rebbe, Moses wanted God to "enlighten his eyes" to the see the true goodness of the Jewish people, and Israel, in spite of the disappointments he had experienced in his lifetime.

Can we relate?

We have all known moments of loneliness and pessimism, and none of us, in those moments, can see the good.

In such moments, we may we look at our children and our grandchildren and worry that they will not succeed. We look at others around us, and conclude they will never change.

We wonder whether our own dreams will come true.

Our ancient collection of wisdom, Pirkei Avot teaches that one of the main keys to enjoying life is to have a "good eye." (PA 2:9)

The Sages interpret this to mean that we should be blessed with the ability, in spite of occasional evidence to the contrary, to see the good in everything.

In other words, say our Sages, if you are young, rejoice in your youth. If you are married, or have children, rejoice in that wealth. In you are mature in years, rejoice in your wisdom and understanding.

It is so easy sometimes to forget how lucky we are. The summer air is sweet. Our children and grandchildren bless us.

I believe that, in spite of the discord we're so often exposed to, this world is better than we give it credit for.

If only, like Moses, the veil of our pessimism could be lifted.

During the 1990s, a television program aired on a local cable network featuring a taxi driver recording his conversations with passengers as he slalomed through the streets of New York.

One such conversation was with a little old Jewish man, who climbed into the back seat with a violin case in his hand. The elderly man, once a fixture in Times Square, boasted that he could play any song-for tips.

"Name me a song-any song! and I'll play it," he told the driver, who requested When Irish Eyes are Smiling. The old man played it cheerfully.

When the final note had left his violin, the little man slumped back in his seat, silently watching the city lights go by.

He smiled and sighed, and then said, "Ah, life. How lucky that we got in."

Those words have stuck with me. Yes, how lucky we are to have been gifted with life.

Yes, this world can be challenging. We worry: we fret.

But what makes Moses the most notable of all Jewish leaders is that, in many ways, he was like you and me. All that he asked for in this week's Torah portion was to see the good in the world. God refused the request, because the answer is not found in the heavens. It is found within each of us.

In the end, as our Scriptures remind us, our lives, our happiness, our destiny-they're all up to us.

We need not look to the heavens to find goodness. As the Torah reminds us, what you make of life is "in your mouth and in your heart."

For in spite of all life's flaws and challenges, this is still a good world. Let us recognize, appreciate, and count-really count-our blessings.

How lucky we got in.

Shabbat Shalom, v'kol tuv (all good things)

Rabbi Irwin Huberman