FOR EMOR
GIVING IT TO THE ORTHODOX
Last Shabbos, at our “Turn Friday Night Into Shabbat” Program, a participant posed the following question to me: “What is the difference between the ‘Orthodox’ and ‘Chabad’”?
This person knows that I cringe when people use labels to define who they are. Judaism does not come with “tags” and “brands.” Over the past century since these words were invented, they are generally used to categorize and split people. This is divisive.
As it was the holy day of Shabbos, I was attired with my typical black hat and long black coat. All this is in addition to my regular appearance, which does nothing to hide my affiliation. In other words, I knew that my external appearance most definitely suggested one that would be considered “orthodox.”
To the person posing the question, I responded: “If you define ‘Orthodox,’ as observant of the laws of Judaism and an external appearance of a traditional Jewish look, then ‘Chabad’ and ‘Orthodox’ are one and the same. If, however, you define ‘Orthodox’ as narrow minded, residing only in restricted neighborhoods, and not willing to share information with other Jews and non-Jews, neither ‘Chabad,’ nor I, are that way.”
The person assured me that it was a simple attempt to understand the motivation of moving into a place where external appearances of my family are dissimilar to everyone else there.
The way I see it, and I believe my Chabad colleagues around the world would agree, being “Orthodox” – in the sense of commitment to observe the laws, plus seeking methods to reach out to others – is what being observantly Jewish is all about. It is about seeking altruism, especially in a world where narcissism is prevalent.
Have you heard of Cameron Lyle? He was a star shot-put athlete at the University of New Hampshire in his senior year. He was recently advised that his bone marrow has a good chance of matching a complete stranger who is suffering from leukemia. He was also advised that the process of extracting this potential life-saving blood will most definitely cost him his final college season, and could seriously affect his athletic future. Without hesitation, he agreed to donate the bone marrow he is no longer in the athletic program at the school. See here: http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/video/college-shot-putter-gives-up-career-to-donate-bone-marrow-19030185.
This inspirational story, and the perspective it provides, should be the “shot heard around the world.” It is also consistent with a beautiful lesson from an oddity in this week’s Torah portion, “Emor.” The portion documents, at relative great length, the festivals on the Jewish calendar. It opens with the requirement of observing the Shabbos, and goes through the holidays and all their obligations. The Torah covers Passover, the counting of the Omer, Shavuos, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkos, and Shmini Atzeres. (Vayikra (Leviticus) chapter 23.)
In the midst of all this, between the narrative about Shavuos and Rosh Hashanah, the Torah states: “When you reap the harvest of your land, you should not completely remove the corner of your field during your harvesting (the corners are left for the poor); nor should you gather the individual stalks of your harvest (that have fallen). You should leave them for the poor and the alien-resident.” (23:22.)
Between the festival of Shavuos and Rosh Hashanah, a long summer season exists. This provides ample time for people to harvest their fields. Still, Torah is in the midst of teaching about the festivals, not about harvesting! Moreover, in the very previous portion, the Torah has already provided these very same instructions: “When you reap the harvest of your land, you should not fully reap the corner of your field (corners are left for the poor); nor should you gather the individual stalks of your harvest (that have fallen)… You should leave them for the poor.” (19:9-10.)
The Talmudic sages of the Midrash offer that these instructions are placed here, in the section about festivals, for they both represent a similar result. During the celebration of all the festivals specified in the portion, people during the Temple times were required to bring gifts to the Almighty in the form of animal and meal offerings. And it is the same with leaving behind gifts for the poor: it is regarded as if one has built the Temple and performed the service of the offerings in it.
Charity and kindness come in many forms. The Torah offers several ways this deed can be accomplished. One would wonder: What is it about leaving the corners and individual stalks that is so special and precious?
It is about altruism to the highest degree. Someone working the land does not merely put in a day’s work. More than in most other professions, working the land typically involves blood, sweat and tears. While other forms of charity are presented from all varieties of earnings, including funds and resources into which a person had a minimal investment, that which grows is a full-fledged investment of the worker.
Furthermore, with other forms of giving, one chooses the recipient. The corners of the field, on the other hand, as well as those individual stalks, are to be left on the field for any person in need.
When the charity includes the investment of the entire person, and when the recipient can be any needy person out there, the giving is completely selfless. This type of generosity is more noble and valuable than any other type. It is as similar to building a Temple for the Almighty and performing the services there simply for the sake of the Almighty’s instruction.
The more a person performs good deeds for the sole purpose of the goodness of the deed, the more devoted that person is.
Is it “orthodox”? Some may call it “unorthodox.” But to the recipient, it could be a life saver. Just ask Mr. Lyle and the person whose life he is trying to save…
SUMMARY: Giving of oneself for the sole sake of sharing with another is the most precious form of giving.