More Than A Man

More Than A Man

Rabbi Michael L Feshbach

Temple Beth Am, Williamsville, NY

Well, I went and met the President last week along with 20,000 more of my closest friends.

As crowded as it was, and as hard to get in to Buffalo's Marine Midland Arena to hear Bill and Hillary, and Al and Tipper on the day at their very first appearance after the State of the Union address, it was, nevertheless, an extraordinary experience for me. There is something about experiencing an event in person, about hearing a speaker, about being in the same physical place that no television or radio or even ''virtual" World Wide Web experience can match.

I have seen Bill Clinton before and Jimmy Carter. as candidates. And I have heard both Vice President Gore and the First Lady speak in person during the last several years (both at biennial conventions of the Union of American Hebrew Congregations, the national Reform movement). But I had never heard a sitting (or a standing) President before.

What can I say? It may be unsophisticated, it may sound uncool to say it, but, hey, it was pretty exciting. It was even, to use a once in vogue word, "awesome." But that is not why I am writing about the experience.

You know, everything depends on how you look at the world. The sun sets on what is to most people the end of a long week of work. So what is it? Is it Friday night? Or Erev Shabbat? Who we are is not fixed from above, or before. It depends on what we have in ourselves, our existential eye glasses, the way we look at what happens around us. And, seeing the President of the United States, this ultimate exercise in Americanism, this Mecca journey of civic religion was a profoundly Jewish experience as well

There is, of course, the Jewish moment at the beginning of many important events in our lives. What is that Jewish moment? It is when the priest or minister rises to give an invocation in any setting other than a Christian church, and all the Jewish eyes find each other, and silently, unanimously, say: oy! Will they or won't they? Will they mention him at the end of the prayer? Will they read us out of the room, make us invisible, and make us feel as strangers in our own land? Or will they utter words that come from their heart, but do not cut at the hearts of others? No matter how inspiring or insipid the content of the invocation may be, it comes up kosher if it ends up inclusive. If it does not end with the words: "we say this in Jesus' name," or some other equivalent. (I have my own ideas about how Christian ministers can stay true to themselves and still give an inclusive prayer; perhaps another day I will put those ideas in writing.)

So the moment passed, and the minister passed muster. A good invocation, in our book, and one which didn't make us feel different from those around me.

But I was different in another way from the people I was sitting with, the people my wife and I had brought with us, in fact. I had received tickets from the local Jewish Federation and from a small congregation in our area... had distributed them at our synagogue Board meeting the night before, and had a few left over. So we invited some of our neighbors.

One, a Buffalo native, with her mother, got us around town where we would have still gotten ourselves lost. And it was wonderful having a chance to spend some quality time with the whole group we went with.

But there was one difference between "us" and ''them" 'They" are.... Republicans!! Not necessarily the ''throw the bum" out types, and not necessarily people who voted against Bill Clinton in either election, but registered Republicans nonetheless. Who were every bit as excited as seeing a President of the United States as were we.

Which reminds me of a lesson. Not just the American adage about respect fur the office if not the person (a lesson my parents drilled into me during Watergate). But a lesson from our tradition. A lesson, and a play. That opening scene from Fiddler on the Roof  “'Rabbi is there a blessing for the Czar?” And the answer? "Of course. There is a blessing for everything!" The rabbi then goes on to make up 'May God bless and keep the Czar... far away from us!”

But the question and answer were right as well For there actually is a blessing for the Czar -- even a problematic one -- and for seeing a President of the United States. Even one in the middle of defending his Presidency.

The ancient words are not taught in too many religious schools. But they are found at the back of some prayer books, and in the memory of those who take seriously the statement "of course, there is a blessing for everything." The traditional Jewish prayer on seeing an exalted ruler (whether you agree with his or her positions or not) is: "Baruch atta Adonai, Eloheinu Melech HaO!am, shenatan m'kvodo l'vasar vadam, Blessed are You, Adonai Our God,

Sovereign of Existence, who has shared of your glory with mortal human being;" (literally: with ''flesh and blood'}I believe this is a profound blessing. For, at the moment I saw him, indeed, during his time in office, the mantle is more than the man or woman, the presence, the power, the aura of authority is more than the person. There is something... special.about seeing one whom we have chosen to lead us, or, outside of a democracy, about seeing one who holds earthly power in his or her hands.

The blessing is a description of an aura. It is also a prayer: that something of Eternity, that some of God's wisdom and goodness, will be shared with the one who wields that authority, along with the glory.

Our leaders are only human being;. They are frail, and they have failings;. Sometimes there flaws are hidden.

Sometimes they are there for all to see. And this leader has faults and personal failing; as visible as any I remember.

But inholding office -- and until the last moment of holding office -- they are...more than themselves. Our hopes, our prayers, our blessing; go with them, more steadfastly than even our votes.

And I am reminded, once again, that each and every experience, every moment in our lives, is a portal beyond the everyday, a chance to gaze at the ordinary and see in it... holiness, transcendence, eternity. Even in the eyes of a leader under fire can we find the image of God.