The Kotzker Rebbe is purported to have responded to the question of why he didn’t write a book with the following answer: “Why should I write a book?  The only time my chassidim would have time to read it is Friday night after the meal.  They would lie on the couch, exhausted, with a full belly and a few l’chaims.  They would open the book and within a few moments it would end up on the floor in a puddle of drool.  For that I should write a book?”

For a few years, I have wanted to write a book, but to be honest, I am haunted by the story told about the Kotzker Rebbe.  Would my book really be a meaningful contribution?  Would anyone buy it? If I gave it away, would anyone read it, or would it simply gather dust on a shelf? And yet, for nearly twenty years, I have been giving classes, writing articles, delivering sermons, and trying to inspire others with the thoughts, ideas, and stories that inspire me. 

While there are risks in publishing, there are also risks of sitting on the sideline when you feel you have meaningful things to share. The Sefer Chassidim (530) states, “Whoever has received a revelation from Hakadosh Baruch Hu in Torah and is able to record it but fails to do so is stealing from Hashem, because Hashem only revealed it to him to share.” Despite the hesitation of the Kotzker, I do hope to fulfill the charge of the Sefer Chassidim and write a book one day.  But before doing that, I have long wanted to compile and consolidate the writings, teachings and classes I have already given and share them in one place.

It is with that goal in mind that I am very excited and proud to share a new website, www.reg.nd-staging.com.  The site contains over 750 audio classes, all organized by series. In addition, there are over 300 articles, several sermon digests, dozens of videos, and hundreds of source sheets from past classes.  Everything is organized by category or theme and the whole site is searchable.

The website is not an effort to develop an identity independent of my role at Boca Raton Synagogue; indeed, BRS is featured all over the site, including prominent representation on the home page.  Rather, it is an effort to host a growing body of content in an organized way something beyond the scope and capacity of the Shul’s website, www.brsonline.org.  

The shul website is an indispensable resource for our members and visitors who want to know the times of our minyanim, details of our programs, how to contact our staff, etc.  This new website is for those who want to learn with me, whether they are a member of BRS or live halfway around the world. Concurrent with the launch of the new website, I am excited to start a weekly newsletter which will include my weekly article and links to classes I taught that week, as well as previous articles and classes about timely topics.  (For example a newsletter before Pesach will include past articles and classes on Pesach.) 

The newsletter is an experiment in progress, and there are plans to incorporate other fun and interesting things in it. This website was a much bigger and more complicated project than I ever anticipated.  I am enormously indebted to Jonathan Hollander and Stephen Plotsker, who lent their expertise, and countless hours of their time, to quarterback the effort.  Shani and Binyamin Muschel put in tremendous work to organize, upload, and edit.  They brought much more than just technical knowledge and knowhow, but their wisdom, recommendations and insights were invaluable.  This website would not be possible without the generosity and support of my dear friend Saul N. Friedman, whose renowned public accounting firm has sponsored the introduction of the website.

My hope and prayer is that the Torah on this website will not only not end up in a puddle of drool, but that it will be marbeh kavod shomayim, and help inspire those looking for it, and those who search and stumble upon it, towards a more meaningful and mindful Jewish life.  If you enjoy and benefit from it, I would be grateful and honored if you share it with others, encourage them to subscribe to the newsletter, and invite them to be part of our growing community of learning.

Earlier this week, after much hesitation and deliberation about weighing in on a recent Jewish news story, I wrote the following:

My wife is one of the most modest people I know – humble, appropriate, under the radar and tzanua. And… she played the drums at our wedding.

Countless people have forwarded the articles about the bride in Bnei Brak who played the drums at her wedding and the hall and band were forced to apologize for the breach of modesty. Many have asked for my reaction to the story, given our wedding.

So here it is: There are parts of the Torah definition of modesty that are objective, regulated by Jewish law and there are parts that are subjective, standards created by each particular community. All would agree a woman playing an instrument is not objectively prohibited. Apparently, some communities would define it as a subjective breach of modesty, and we need to recognize that they are entitled to do so.

However, while adopting extreme and perhaps excessive standards of modesty might seem like the appropriate reaction and response to our culture which is increasingly becoming extremely immodest, it doesn’t come without a risk and a cost.

We are caught in a vicious cycle in which the extreme immodesty is breeding modesty extremism. The more society says there are no boundaries or limits, that nobody has a right to impose any definition of modesty on anyone else and all are entitled to dress, act, say and identify however they please and in whatever way makes them happy, the more those committed to modesty feel they need to become more restrictive and more narrow, even to the point of the absurd.

But the result is counterproductive as some who in principle are committed to modesty, see the extremism and are so turned off, they go in the opposite direction. Given the choice of living in one of the two worlds, they feel more comfortable with those who bend modesty that those who are excessively rigid with it.

But here is the thing – there aren’t only two options, we don’t have to choose between the extremes. There is a world of Torah observant Jews who are both committed to modesty in principle and in practice, who live with boundaries in speech, dress and conduct and who are turned off equally by extremism on both sides. We need to find a way to band together to preserve the attitude and community standards that are not only most true to Torah and our mesorah, but most likely to retain and attract others to a Torah way of life. We need to not feel apologetic or defensive to either side but we must articulate the values that inform our space, the “normal” place so those like us don’t feel so lonely, so frustrated and such despair from what they see in both directions.

So, if a community wants to adopt a standard of women not playing instruments in public, it is not only entitled to, there is something admirable about its conscious effort to enforce a sense of modesty. However, the goal posts of modesty for the rest of the Jewish community isn’t moved because of it and nobody should be measured or judged by it. We remain entitled, by halacha and by mesorah, to subscribe to the same objective standards of modesty while defining and preserving our own subjective ones which includes our brides playing the drums on a night unlike most others, where they are center stage by any measure.

My thoughts clearly struck a chord and resonated with many as the post quickly picked up steam and was shared widely.  But not surprisingly, not all agreed or were happy with it.  I am grateful for their feedback and for the opportunity to engage in this conversation. I think it is a critically important one, and I have a few further points I’d like to share.

First, those living in Israel and those living in America are addressing two different realities and describing two different phenomena which, though they overlap and are similar, are also very different.  In Israel, the more right-wing community often doesn’t only adopt standards for themselves, but its zealots and enthusiasts have been guilty of coercing those not from their community to adopt their standards.  In America, in my experience, the right-wing community establishes policies for their constituents and does not try to coerce or force it on others.  So while, for example, pictures of women have been torn down in non-charedi communities in Israel and innocent young women in Beit Shemesh have been treated nothing short of horrifically for wearing clothing that does not live up to charedi standards of modesty, nobody in America is forcing others to subscribe to magazines that don’t include women’s pictures.  This distinction is very important and I believe informs our different views on this issue.

Second, I referenced the recent incident with a bride playing drums in Bnei Brak to share thoughts on the broader issue but wasn’t focused on that particular story.  Of course, I agree that no individual should be shamed or embarrassed or the subject of gossip, not in the name of preserving modesty or for other reasons, noble or ignoble.

Third, I regret not being more clear in what I meant when I wrote, “there is something admirable about its conscious effort to enforce a sense of modesty.”  I don’t believe this specific policy or other extreme policies are admirable.  My admiration is not for the policy or how it was executed, it was more broadly for a community that is committed to preserving modesty in an increasingly immodest world.

To be clear, I share the frustration with the direction of modesty extremism.  That is why I originally wrote that I think these new restrictions are not only inconsistent with our mesorah, I fear they are counterproductive.  But now what?  There is extreme immodesty in one direction and modesty extremism in another.  Both concern me, but neither of those sides is concerned with what I think about their policies and practices.  So what is the best response?  I believe it is to work on our community, to create and protect a space for those who are unequivocally committed to halacha, who yield to Torah and mesorah, but who believe in moderation, normalcy and standards that are reasonable and arrived at with input from all the stakeholders.

I believe it is both more appropriate, and more fruitful, to channel my frustration into important conversations regarding our community’s policies and efforts regarding modesty, than it is to try to influence the standards of other communities who want to hear what we think, about as much as we want to hear their opinions about us.

While I disagree with them, I believe those communities who have adopted policies for themselves and are not imposing them on others (like in America), are entitled to come to their own conclusions.   I even presume they are doing so responsibly and thoughtfully.  I know some of them personally, they are not the Taliban, they aren’t misogynists or barbarians. They are struggling with navigating the input of gedolei yisrael, the “marketplace,” and how to implement what they think is morally correct.

I don’t want them telling me that I am not entitled to my conclusions and I am not prepared to tell them that their conclusions are categorically wrong.  Their positions are not appropriate for my community and that is why I will advocate in every way that I can that we not adopt them or imitate them, but I am not the arbiter, judge, or policeman of what is deemed modest in other communities.

But if our only conversations and articles protest what we reject, we have done a terrible disservice and have left a great vacuum.  The conversations in our community about moderate modesty or normal tznius seem to always focus on the “moderate” and the “normal” and not a lot on the “modesty” or the “tznius.”   Are we doing anything to address the modesty in our community, from ostentatiousness and flamboyancy to consuming pop culture indiscriminately?

Why do people in our community feel so comfortable sharing about television or movies they watch that would once qualify as soft pornography with no shame or embarrassment? Why do we ignore or brush aside issues with promiscuity within our community?  What are we doing about the objectification of women, not only by extreme rules of modesty, but by the marketing and celebration of increasingly immodest models and actresses? When and how will we protest society’s continually lowering the standards for publicly acceptable language and messages?

I can’t speak for what is happening in Israel and am heartbroken when I hear stories of people, mostly women, being physically coerced or bullied in their community by those from a community with different standards. But let’s change the conversation from what we are rejecting to what we want to adopt.  Let’s shift from that which is beyond our control to that which we can influence.  Let’s convene to analyze what is working and what isn’t, what is appropriate and what is counterproductive.  Let’s not only talk about what we shouldn’t look like, let’s dream and aspire to holiness that our community could model.

Instead of offering condemnation of others, let’s use this opportunity to ask questions of ourselves.  How can we inspire and improve our sense of modesty with normalcy and moderation? What can we do to preserve our sacred boundaries and to raise the level of holiness in our community?  Let’s not only talk about those who are getting it wrong, let’s have a conversation about how to get it right.  If we can successfully articulate a compelling vision, we will not only enthusiastically retain those from our community, we will become a place that attracts those who are turned off by others.

This week marks the much-anticipated and highly-celebrated time on the Jewish calendar – Yeshiva Week, when many Jewish day schools and yeshivos give vacation and it feels like a significant percentage of the Jewish world goes on pilgrimage to Florida.  There are many beautiful aspects to welcoming so many fellow Jews to our community.  For me, I look forward to meeting and greeting guests, and learning about new people and the places they are visiting from.  Nevertheless, for some visitors and local residents, yeshiva week can be challenging and frustrating when waiting on lines, looking for parking or struggling to get a table.

In general, whether we see the beauty and blessing or instead focus on the frustration and aggravation is really all up to us.  In our Parsha, the Torah describes that after the Jewish people experienced the miraculous splitting of the sea, they encountered a problem.  Lo yuchlu lishtos mayim mi’marah ki marim heim, they weren’t able to drink the water from Marah because they were marim, they were bitter. The Kotzker Rebbe asks, what was bitter?  We traditionally translate that the water was bitter and it logically follows that this is what precluded the people from drinking it.  The Kotzker, however, says marim heim is describing the people.  The people were bitter, disgruntled, critical, judgmental, dismissive and dissatisfied and they accordingly infused a bitter taste into the water and were unable to drink it.

There is a phenomenon that psychologists call the ‘Missing Tile Syndrome.’  When a person is in a beautifully tiled room, his eye is not drawn to the ornate tiles or to the detailed labor.  Rather, if there is one tile missing in the whole room, our natural tendency is to be drawn to and focused on that tile.  We tend to fixate on what is missing, on what is lacking or deficient, instead of emphasizing the beauty, the abundance, or the plenty.

Our Jewish world too often has a culture of criticism. We suffer from the Missing Tile Syndrome, drawn to what we think is wrong or missing, instead of focusing on the abundance of blessing.  Yeshiva Week presents a fantastic opportunity to bring parts of the Jewish world together, to form relationships and enjoy each other’s company while on vacation.  We can focus on the blessings, the opportunities and the good, or we can be fixated with hyper criticism on what is frustrating or wrong.

There is always more we can do to make each other’s lives even more pleasant.  Here are some suggestions:

To our Yeshiva Week visitors:

We hope you have a safe and smooth trip down here and enjoy your time in our community.  We are very excited to welcome you and to benefit from the influx of your energy, enthusiasm and participation.  We are grateful you have chosen to visit our community and to support our local establishments and attractions.  If we can be helpful in any way during your visit or can offer any hospitality, please don’t hesitate to reach out.

If you don’t mind, here are a few reminders that may be helpful during your visit:

 

1. Unlike the Beis HaMikdash, our restaurants don’t expand based on the pilgrimage of Jews. Our proprietors and their staffs are doing the best they can. Please be patient, understanding and courteous, and please be generous with your tips, since the waiters are doing the best they can during an overwhelming time.

 

2. Please note and be sensitive to the fact that while you enjoy our many kosher dining options and kosher supermarkets, it is the local residents who support them all year long and enable them to be available to you when you visit.

 

3. Our community has many minyanim each morning and each evening. Please attend one of the listed minyanim and do not form a new one based on what time you arrive.

 

4. In South Florida, life moves at a little slower and more relaxed pace. If the light turns green and the person in front of you doesn’t step on the gas within a millisecond, be patient, take a deep breath, take in the palm trees, and enjoy being on vacation.

 

5. If you encounter a line, see it as an opportunity to spend time with others in your group or to read, learn, or listen to a shiur. Talk to the person in front of you or behind you; they are as eager as you to get to the front.

 

6. If you enjoy the minyanim, shiurim, learning opportunities, programs, mikvahs, eruv, or kashrus available in our community, please feel free to make a contribution of any amount to our Tomchei Shabbos or chesed fund that can use help and support.

 

Over the course of your stay, please come say hello and introduce yourself.  If you are considering moving here, please let us know if there is any way we can help or any questions we can answer. We would love to get to know you.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Efrem Goldberg

________________________________

To my fellow Floridians,

This week begins the annual influx of visitors for Yeshiva week.  This week is a great reminder of the honor and privilege we have to live year-round in the very place that others choose as their vacation destination.  True, it may be hard to find parking, eat out or have your usual seat in shul during this time, but those are small prices to pay to offer gracious hospitality to fellow Jews.

If you don’t mind, here are a few reminders for the coming few weeks:

 

1. While we support the local establishments all year, don’t minimize or dismiss the economic boon that our proprietors have come to rely on from vacation week.

 

2. Be warm and welcoming when you see visitors and new faces. Offer a smile and a kind greeting.

 

3. Be patient, gracious and hospitable, and treat every visitor the way we would want to be treated when visiting or vacationing elsewhere.

 

4. If someone is sitting in your seat in Shul, don’t say anything or gesture to our guest to move; please find another seat. Our visitors aren’t doing anything malicious or with bad intent, they are just trying to experience davening at BRS.

 

5. Know it will be hard to get a table or eat out and plan around it. We can enjoy our wonderful restaurants all year long, let others have them for the week or be patient when eating out.

 

6. Don’t use social media to share any frustrations or displeasures. Post about all the beautiful tiles in your life, not the missing one.

 

Looking forward to welcoming our guests and enjoying this vacation period together.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Efrem Goldberg

In recent years, there has been a proliferation of neighborhood minyanim that serve as alternatives to attending Shul.  Some of these minyanim rotate between homes, while others are in fixed locations.  Some meet only Friday nights while others also meet for Mincha and Maariv on Shabbos/Motzei Shabbos as well.  All were started for convenience: for some the convenience of not walking longer distances, for others the convenience of a shorter, less formal service, and for some both.

I am sympathetic to the merits of such minyanim as I grew up attending one my entire childhood.  We lived in the Northeast, close to a mile from Shul, with cold winters and regular snowfalls.  With the rabbi’s permission, a minyan met in rotating basements.  Besides the weather convenience, the minyan also provided the opportunity for young people to lead the davening, layn, and get kibbudim, opportunities often denied at the large shul. There is no doubt the minyan enabled and encouraged some who otherwise wouldn’t have davened with a minyan or even at all.

Personally, my first experience with Jewish communal leadership came as a teenager when I served as gabbai and made announcements at our local basement minyan.  I am genuinely grateful for that experience and the lessons it afforded me.

And yet, as much as I see the merits, there are several halachic considerations and concerns regarding attending such minyanim.  In an excellent article in the inaugural volume of Yadrim, the Torah Journal of our BRS Beis Medrash, Rabbi Aryeh Lebowitz addresses many of them.  Indeed, given the halachic and meta-halachic concerns, it is surprising how many people who are generally scrupulous and vigilant with not only keeping halacha, but observing minority opinions and stringencies, have no hesitation to host and attend home minyanim.  Perhaps it is the absence at Shul of those who are admired for their religious fervor and davening with kavana that has the biggest impact and is felt the most.

Colleagues from across the country have described the same phenomenon we are seeing in Boca – the increase in neighborhood minyanim is, on a very practical level, impacting the attendance, feel, energy and experience of davening in the Shul itself.  Having a large crowd with high energy is not just a nice idea in theory, but it is an important value.

The pasuk (Mishlei 14:28) describes an axiom of Halacha: B’rov am hadras melech, the larger the gathering, the more glory and honor we give God.  With this in mind, the Shulchan Aruch (90:9) records that one should always try to daven in Shul. The Magen Avraham (90:15) offers this encouragement even if one has a minyan in his own home, ruling that one should still attend shul since more people will be davening together.

Beyond the halachic considerations mentioned above, we need to be thinking about the practical impact of attending home minyanim.  The casual atmosphere in a home, the presence of countless distractions, and the informal nature of the minyan almost guarantee the quality of davening will be inferior to davening at shul.  But even if it is not, or even if we don’t care if it is, we need to be sensitive to, and considerate of, the impact of our absence on the Shul itself.

To be clear, I am not addressing the phenomenon of those who attend Shtiebels as alternatives to traditional shuls.  I am referring to people who belong to and are loyal to their Shul, pay membership, attend Shabbos morning and participate in programs, classes and events, but for convenience stay on the block or nearby on Friday night and Shabbos Mincha and Maariv.  In our community, the existence of neighborhood minyanim doesn’t affect our budget or the size of our membership.  But it does negatively impact both those who are still coming to Shul and I would argue, also impacts negatively on those who are choosing not to.

At times a home minyan is held for someone who is ill, debilitated, or unable to attend shul due to extenuating circumstances.  In most cases, however, the motivation for the minyan is simply convenience.

In a recent column in the New York Times, The Tyranny of Convenience, Tim Wu writes:

As Evan Williams, a co-founder of Twitter, recently put it, “Convenience decides everything.” Convenience seems to make our decisions for us, trumping what we like to imagine are our true preferences. Easy is better, easiest is best…But we err in presuming convenience is always good, for it has a complex relationship with other ideals that we hold dear.

Though understood and promoted as an instrument of liberation, convenience has a dark side. With its promise of smooth, effortless efficiency, it threatens to erase the sort of struggles and challenges that help give meaning to life…

We need to consciously embrace the inconvenient — not always, but more of the time. Nowadays individuality has come to reside in making at least some inconvenient choices. You need not churn your own butter or hunt your own meat, but if you want to be someone, you cannot allow convenience to be the value that transcends all others. Struggle is not always a problem. Sometimes struggle is a solution. It can be the solution to the question of who you are…

So let’s reflect on the tyranny of convenience, try more often to resist its stupefying power, and see what happens. We must never forget the joy of doing something slow and something difficult, the satisfaction of not doing what is easiest. The constellation of inconvenient choices may be all that stands between us and a life of total, efficient conformity.

Yes, walking a few more blocks or participating in davening that lasts a few more minutes is less convenient.  But since when is convenience the priority in decision-making or the core value in determining what we do, particularly something as important as where we daven?

I know convenience isn’t the only factor. Neighborhood minyanim breed friendships, camaraderie and provide a sense of sub-communities within the greater community.  But I believe if we are honest, we would admit that those can be accomplished at other times and in other ways.  It seems to me both from my youth as a participant and now as an interested observer, convenience is in fact the main driving force behind these minyanim.

As Tim Wu argues – it is time we liberate ourselves from the tyranny of convenience and allow ourselves to experience the satisfaction that results in having exerted a little more effort.  Walking a few more steps, planning our erev Shabbos to be ready a few minutes earlier, spending a few more moments in song and communal prayer, are not only more elevating and more enriching, but doing them cultivates and brings out the best version of ourselves.

The walk to and from Shul often offers quality time, memorable conversations and positive interactions among family and friends.  Embrace it, lean in and take full advantage.

What do our children learn if they see us consistently choose convenience over kavana, expediency over excellence, and comfort over community?

Contributing to attendance at Shul and by extension the quality of the davening is the very definition of being a good neighbor. The Shulchan Aruch (90:11) quotes the Gemara (Berachos 8a) that goes so far as to say that anybody who has a Shul in his city and doesn’t come to daven there is considered a shachein rah, a bad neighbor.

The Noda B’Yehudah (Tzlach drush 23) writes: “Whoever has a Shul available to daven in, but chooses to daven at home, is called a bad neighbor.  Even if there is a quorum of ten people, it still cannot compare to tefillah in Shul.  A Shul is a Mikdash and Hakadosh Baruch Hu resides there…The holiness there is similar to the kedusha of Eretz Yisrael.  The prayers go up to Heaven…When one davens at home, he loses out on all these benefits.”

The Yerushalmi, commenting on the pasuk דרשו ה׳ בהמצאו, call out to Hashem when He is found, says Hashem is found in the Shul and that is where we should go when we want to speak with Him and want our tefillos most readily heard.

We need to ask ourselves – do we aspire to meet the Torah’s definition of a good neighbor or simply to do what comes most convenient?  Is a closer location or shorter davening worth losing all the benefits of being part of the community of people davening in Shul, in Hashem’s home, where He Himself has told us He can be found?

And so, on behalf of our shul and shul attendees everywhere, here is my simple appeal:

Alternate.

If attending a local home minyan is more convenient, or gives your children opportunities they wouldn’t otherwise have, by all means attend.  If it is helping you build friendships and grow a sense of a small community within the larger one, I am not asking you to stop altogether.  But I am asking you to alternate where you daven and make it a priority to be among those who participate in davening at shul by coming every other week or every third week, certainly at least once a month.

Free yourself from the tyranny of convenience by also coming to shul regularly.  Your davening in Shul will enhance the experience for all who attend.  Your presence will strengthen the mother ship of the community.  But it will also help bring out the best version of yourself as you put kavana ahead of convenience and do the more correct thing, even if it takes a little more effort or sacrifice on your part.

Like a good neighbor, please be there, at least every now and then.

LeBron James has a following on Instagram more populous than 203 countries.  When nearly 46 million people sign up to read everything you have to say, you have a responsibility to be extra thoughtful, careful and mindful of what you post.  LeBron is well aware of the platform he has, as he mentioned in his statement reacting to the events in Charlottesville, Virginia last year:

I know there’s a lot of tragic things happening in Charlottesville. I just want to speak on it right now. I have this platform and I’m somebody that has a voice of command, and the only way for us to get better as a society, and for us to get better as people, is love. And that’s the only way we’re going to be able to conquer something as one.

He continued by calling for us to take personal responsibility for how we speak and our attitudes towards one another:

It’s about us looking in the mirror. Kids all the way up to the adults. All of us looking in the mirror and saying, ‘What can we do better to help change?’’ And if we can all do that and give 110 percent and give both foots forward, then that’s all you can ask for. So, shout out to the innocent people in Charlottesville and shout out to everybody across the world that just want to be great and just want to love.

Fast forward to this week, when LeBron failed to meet the very standard he called for.  Last Saturday, one of the most famous and recognizable athletes on the planet posted to Instagram the lyrics of a song by the performer 21 Savage: “We been getting that Jewish money. Everything is Kosher.”

Throughout our history, it is well-documented that oppression, persecution and attempted exterminations began with rhetoric and propaganda revolving around Jews and money. Invoking the trope connecting Jews to money is as hurtful to us as posting a lyric that contains a stereotype that would offend any other minority.

The author of the lyric tweeted to his 2.8 million followers what he thought was an apology, but in actuality was just a further insult:

The Jewish people I know are very wise with there [sic] money so that’s why I said we been gettin Jewish money I never thought anyone would take offense.  I’m sorry if I offended everybody never my intention I love all people.

LeBron’s Instagram post attracted attention and criticism.  He responded:

Apologies, for sure, if I offended anyone. That’s not why I chose to share that lyric. I always [post lyrics]. That’s what I do. I ride in my car, I listen to great music, and that was the byproduct of it. So, I actually thought it was a compliment, and obviously it wasn’t through the lens of a lot of people. My apologies. It definitely was not the intent, obviously, to hurt anybody.

LeBron’s apology is the perfect example of how not to say you are sorry.  Rather than accept responsibility for making a mistake, he wrote the popular but ineffective if: “if I offended anyone.”  Rather than take ownership, he offered an explanation. “I always post lyrics, that’s what I do.”  Rather than admit it was poor judgment and an objective mistake, he said it was misunderstood “through the lens of a lot of people.”  Apologies filled with rationalizations, explanations and deflections are not apologies.

In fact, even using the word apology is very different than saying sorry.  The origin of the word “apology” is the Greek “apologia,” which means justification, explanation, or excuse.  One who truly feels regret and feels bad for the hurt he caused others doesn’t offer an apology, but simply says the simple but effective words that are missing from LeBron’s apology – “I am sorry.”

The news media and sports world apparently have accepted the explanation LeBron offered and have given the superstar an unconscionable pass for a terrible insensitivity and for posting a hateful slur.

When another person with an enormous platform, President Trump, has made incendiary comments, he has correctly been called out and criticized.  We must reject hateful comments, intentional or not, from the right or the left.  But while many celebrities and public figures have lost their jobs for mistakes and missteps that were equally or even less egregious, not only did the NBA announce that LeBron wouldn’t be fined, the world moved on immediately, spending more time on his recent injury than how he has injured an entire people with his callousness and carelessness.

Am I overreacting about the impact (particularly in a down economy) of publicly associating Jews and money in a post to 46 million followers?  Maybe if it were an isolated incident, but LeBron is not the only one promoting old stereotypes, even if only out of ignorance.

This week the New York Times picked up on a story that has been picking up steam for weeks regarding the Women’s March and how it has been roiled by accusations of Anti-Semitism.  As it turns out, a movement that was supposedly formed to combat misogyny, bigotry, and racism counts among its leaders those who hold anti-Semitic views.

At the first meeting of a group of women who shared a passion for addressing these issues, Vanessa Wruble, a Brooklyn-based activist, told the group that her Jewish heritage inspired her to try to help repair the world.  Instead of welcoming her, the conversation turned to how Jews need to confront their own role in racism.

The antagonists were Tamika Mallory, a black gun control activist, and Carmen Perez, a Latina criminal justice reform activist.  Mallory, who is now co-president of the Women’s March organization, has called Louis Farrakhan, the leader of the Nation of Islam and unrepentant anti-Semite, “the GOAT,” or “greatest of all time,” on social media.

According to Evvie Harmon, who was at that initial meeting, Mallory and Perez began berating Wruble.  What do you think they attacked her about?  What else, Jews and money.

Harmon recounted the conversation: “They were talking about, ‘You people this,’ and ‘You people that’ and the kicker was, ‘You people hold all the wealth.’ I was like, ‘Oh my God, they are talking about her being Jewish.’ The greatest regret of my life was not standing up and saying ‘This is wrong.’”

We must not have that same regret.  These anti-Semitic comments cannot go unanswered and nobody deserves a pass simply by offering an excuse.  The ADL, which does so much important work in calling out and fighting anti-Semitism, was shockingly silent. It is sad enough that the media moved on, but where are Jewish organizations and groups expressing outrage and calling for more?

If LeBron is sincerely sorry, he shouldn’t move on, he should educate himself and then others about why that lyric is so hurtful, wrong and even dangerous and we should demand that of him.  Moral people of conscience, no matter their politics, should hold the founders of the Women’s March accountable and refuse to participate in their activities until these individuals resign from their positions of leadership and the movement publicly repudiates and distances themselves from these views.

A concerned friend of mine sent me an email about LeBron’s post, writing, “Time to speak up, to yell, to protest, before it’s 1936 again!”  Comparisons to 1936 are inaccurate and unhelpful.  Describing these incidents or even the spike in anti-Semitism as a precursor of another Holocaust smacks of hysteria and causes the very people whose sympathy and help we want to tune out.  Anyone who truly thought things were that bad would move to Israel immediately.  If one is staying in America they clearly don’t believe it is 1936 Germany, so invoking the comparison lacks credibility.

Nevertheless, equally true is that anti-Semitism is not a relic of our past or something we are immune from, even in this blessed country.  As we recite in the Hagaddah, b’chol dor va’dor, in every generation there are anti-Semites who rise up against us to eliminate us.  Our generation is no exception and if wethink we are, we are only fooling ourselves.  According to the FBI, Jews were the subject of 60% of religiously motivated hate crimes in 2017, despite being just 2% of the U.S. population.  That is alarming and demands our attention and our efforts to reverse it.

Comments like LeBron’s, even if posted without malice, contribute to a stereotype and bias that historically have evolved into hatred, scapegoating and ultimately to pogroms, persecution and even the murder of 6 million of our brothers and sisters. The more casual anti-Semitism is ignored or swept under the rug, the more incrementally dangerous our country grows as a place for Jews to live comfortably.

Now is not time to panic or overstate the concern.  But it is also time not to turn a blind eye or give anyone a pass, even a popular superstar.

Imagine not being invited for Shabbos dinner and going home from shul to eat all alone.  You eat, you read, you read some more and when you look at the clock, it’s not even 8:00 pm.

For some that sounds like a dream come true, and maybe it is for one week. But what if that was your experience each and every Friday night.  While others spend their week looking forward to laughing, singing, talking, and playing games, you experience each week the anxiety of waiting and wondering if an invitation will come, and, if so, from whom and who else will be there.

At what point during the week do you stop waiting and start dropping hints in the hope that someone will give you the dignity of at least acting as if they thought to invite you, rather than your having to invite yourself.  You don’t want to feel like a chesed case or be assigned to people to host you, so when the invitation doesn’t come, you just go home and eat the backup minimal spread you put together in case nobody at shul asked you to come home with them.

If the above depiction seems harsh, it is a paraphrase of what has been described to me by those who experience it directly.  If we understood that this was the alternative, we wouldn’t trade our full Shabbos tables, busy Friday nights, cooking, cleaning, serving and clearing for anything in the world.

We, the greater Jewish community, excel in times of crisis.  We show up, we volunteer, we coordinate, pitch in, take over and do whatever is necessary to help those going through illness or loss to make sure that they don’t feel alone, isolated or abandoned, even for a moment.  But what about those who are chronically alone, either after the crisis passes or without a crisis ever having arisen?

I was recently talking to a couple of people from our shul about the experience of being single in an observant, family-centric community.  They answered by sharing a letter with me to pass on to you.  These are their words:

Dear BRS Member,

I’m your neighbor. I live on your street. We wave to each other during the week as we get out of our cars, as we come home from work, or collect our mail. We smile and act as if we know each other. We say “Good Shabbos” to each other as we pass each other on our way to shul. But as friendly as we are to each other, you may not know this – I sit by myself eating Shabbat meals week after week.

While you sing zmirot and share words of Torah, I thumb through the weekly while I sip my soup alone. I’ve tried to fill my own table by inviting guests. It’s wonderful to host others, but as a single person it is difficult to sustain these activities week after week.

As I watch you invite your many friends into your home, I think to myself. “Isn’t there room at their table for just one more?” I’m happy to bring a delicious dish or a D’var Torah, or participate in a lively discussion. I’d be happy to contribute to your Shabbat table. I love living in the BRS community, but often, my Shabbats and Yom Tovim are long and lonely.

Perhaps the next time that you are planning your menu and guest list for Shabbat, you could please consider your single neighbor and add just one more chair to your table.

Our conversation and their letter got me thinking. Here are a few thoughts:

To those who are married:

 

• Regularly ask yourself, whom do you know who might be alone and would greatly appreciate your invitation. Don’t make it look as if you are doing them a favor by saying things like, “do you have your meals covered” or “do you have a place to go,” but invite them like you would anyone else – in advance, with class, and with happiness that your guest can put it on their calendar.

 

• Being single doesn’t define a person; it is one facet of his or her life. Don’t invite singles as a group, as if it is your weekend to offer them  Invite and engage your neighbors based on their personalities, professions, interests and views.

 

• Don’t just think about Shabbos and Yom Tov meals. There are other times during the year when it is painful to be alone. Invite someone to come over to join you for Chanuka candle lighting (though each person needs to light in their own home), exchanging gifts and making latkes.  Make room at your Thanksgiving table, at the meal before the Yom Kippur fast and other such times.

 

To singles:

 

• Don’t feel or act entitled to invitations. Show up with wine, flowers or a gift, offer to make something, or make a donation to Tomchei Shabbos to say thank you, but don’t take the hospitality for granted.

 

• You may not be able to offer home hospitality in return, but you can offer to take someone who has hosted you several times out for dinner to say thank you.

 

• Don’t only rely on invitations; take initiative. Arrange pot luck dinners, coordinate singles events and meals, and network with friends, so you are on their radar and in their thoughts.

 

As a result of an event in the parsha last week, we refrain from eating the sciatic nerve, the gid ha’nashe.  Why?  Before going to meet Esav, Ya’akov Avinu went back to retrieve “forgotten items” and he ended up wrestling the Angel of Esav the entire night.  We commemorate the injury Ya’akov sustained by abstaining from eating from the place where he was wounded.  Normally, when our people triumph over an enemy, we commemorate the event by eating, not by abstaining, so why the prohibition of gid ha’nashe?

The Chizkuni explains that this mitzvah doesn’t correspond to our triumph, but rather reminds us how Ya’akov got injured in the first place.  Vayivaser Ya’akov levado, Ya’akov was all alone and as a result he was vulnerable and exposed and ultimately attacked.  The mitzvah not to eat the gid ha’nashe reminds us of our obligation to make sure a Jew is never alone again.

So, the next time you are planning to host, set an extra seat or two for your neighbors and ensure that nobody ever has to wrestle with being alone.