For Whom the Bell Tolls
Rabbi Michael L. Feshbach
Temple Shalom
Chevy Chase, MD
Rabbi Michael L. Feshbach
Temple Shalom
Chevy Chase, MD
My previous post (see below: Words
Matter), which also recently appeared, in edited form, on the back page of the
most recent Reform Judaism magazine (http://reformjudaismmag.org/Articles/index.cfm?id=3290)
might have a problem. Or at least, based
on the feedback I am getting, there was something I did not think of.
I proposed
the word “chaverim” as a replacement for “members” in synagogue life. I still like the proposal. But it is awfully close to a parallel and in
some ways overlapping part of (or rival to?) synagogues – the Chavurah. Now, there are such chavurot (small group
fellowships) within congregations, and there are independent Chavurot that
function as quasi-congregations, or NSO’s (non-synagogue organizations).
The words and concepts are
obviously linked. But what separates
them? What would be the difference
between my “chaver” of a synagogue, and a Chavurah?
You know, when you are in a
chavurah, you get to know everyone in it in an intimate way. You break bread together, you celebrate
holidays, you are there for the joyous life-cycle events, and you support each
other in tough times. Large synagogue settings
obviously need such a sense of small-group connections within the overall
framework; you can be BFF’s with more than one person (despite the linguistic
conundrum involved)… but you can’t be close friends with everyone.
Here, though, I am struck by a
really powerful comment someone shared with me a few years ago now. There was a tragedy in the congregation, a
young sibling of a congregant suddenly died, and we organized meals for the
family. (We don’t, I must confess, do
full meals for every family in mourning; I think it would be great to do so but
that is not what we have been able to do on a routine basis.)
But this family wasn’t in a “chavurah”
per se. They had some, but not a large
number of close friends in the congregation.
So the people bringing the meals, by and large, did not know the family
they were cooking for (or, in this day and age, who they were picking up food
for – also appreciated; this is not a mitzvah that should be limited only to
those with enough time to do a home-cooked meal!)
And one woman, a long-time, very
active congregant, told me how much it meant to her, to have the chance to help…
someone she did not know. That she got
to know someone new here… not to be best friends, but, well, just to be there.
Those words have always stuck with
me. Because… here’s the difference
between a chavurah, and a chaver of a synagogue. A Chavurah is folks you know well. When you go to visit in the hospital, when
you cook a meal, when you celebrate a holiday together, you are doing so with
an “almost family.” You are responding
to a friend in need.
That is great. And it would also be great if we could feel
that way about the whole world. Remember
that the Christian concept of “charity” is based on the notion of “charitos”,
the same root as “charisma,” which means “love.” How great would that be, to love everyone?”
Forget it. Until the Messiah comes, until human nature
changes, until Facebook makes friends of us all, not going to happen.
But when you go, not out of want,
but out of need, when you go not out of subjective connection, but out of
objective obligation… that… that is
about a different level of values. That, I think, is the meaning of mitzvah.
Feeding a close friend, who wouldn’t do that. Feeding someone in your community you do not
know, but are bound to… that is a horse of a different color, a value of a
different valence. Would that we could
all be close. But needs are now, and the
need is real.
Both are important, the chavurah
and the chaver. One will be there because they know you. The other will be there… because they
should. And maybe, even, will get to
know you.
Or not. What they get out of it is that what they get
out of it is not the point!
Ask not for whom the bell tolls. Really. Don't ask. Just do.
No comments:
Post a Comment