My first professional position in Jewish communal work was as the Youth and Education director in an “out-of-town” community, Wilmington Delaware. My wife Arleeta and I arrived with our one-year-old son Doniel in July of 1969. We were excited to take up a new and exciting challenge. Wilmington had a very small Jewish community, and we barely had a minyan of shomer Shabbos Jews.
A few days after we moved into our lovely apartment, the elderly chazan of the one and only OINO (Orthodox-in-name-only) shul asked if I’d join him in the shul’s kitchen for tea. The chazan was an ehrliche Yid from “de heim.” He had made it to the U.S. before the war and found work in Wilmington as a shochet and cantor. He was an old-school Jew who preferred Yiddish to English.
In those days, if you wanted to make
tea, you filled a kettle (the good ones had a whistle to let you know when the
water had boiled) and placed it on the stovetop gas fire. The chazan filled the kettle, lit the flame,
and waited to hear the whistle. While we waited, he shared a bit of his
history. His story was interesting. Somehow though, I felt that he wanted me to
understand how an ehrliche Yid found
himself in Wilmington and why he remained there. As he lifted the whistling
kettle off the burner, he poured it over the tea bags in our respective cups
and continued speaking. As he spoke, our teacups sat on the counter for a
while. I didn’t want to interrupt him, but I knew that our hot tea was
chilling. Finally, he said, “Did you think I forgot about our tea?”
I said, “It’s okay. We can boil some
more water and reuse the bags.” (In those days, you got at least two cups – sometimes
three – from one bag.)
He said, “It’s okay; taste your tea.”
I was a bit puzzled, but he was my host so I drank. The chazan then said, “How is it?”
I replied, “It tastes fine, but it’s
cold.”
He exclaimed, “Exactly! And that’s why I asked you to join me here!” He continued,
“You just came from Baltimore, a city with many frum Yidden, day schools, and a great yeshiva. You just came from
the fire of Jewish life, learning, and mitzva observance. Baltimore is like the
flame on the stove; you are the kettle. You just came off the stove; you’re hot
with enthusiasm which gives me hope for the future. But, beware. I, too, was
hot with enthusiasm once, but I stayed on the counter – off the – stove too
long. Don’t do what I did. Stay close to the fire because if you don’t, you
will slowly cool down and eventually you will become room temperature. We have
too many “room-temperature”’ Jews. The chazan’s
message was powerful and profound. It has remained with me for over a half
century!
* *
*
Soon after, Arleeta and I decided that, from the time our
first child Doniel was ready to enter kindergarten we always needed to be
guided by the chazan’s words. Our
children’s chinuch as well as our own
had to be maintained at a standard, using Baltimore not Wilmington as the
yardstick.
From the late ’60s through most of
the ’90s, it was much easier to do frontline outreach than it is now. That’s
because most Jews (and non-Jews) were still guided by the basic morality and
ethics of the Torah. There was an objective standard for good, bad, right, and
wrong. There was an understanding and acceptance of morality and decency
whether you were Orthoprax or not. Therefore, when reaching out to
non-observant Jews, there was a common moral theme. Most unaffiliated Jews were
simply uneducated. Often, when they became more knowledgeable, they embraced
some level of observance, or – at least for the most part – they were not
hostile. Our time in Wilmington had its challenges, but, b”H, we were relatively successful in our mission. Today we have nachas from the children and
grandchildren from our Wilmington era. Many of them are “whistling kettles.”
Unfortunately, these days, a large
percentage of Jews are completely disconnected from their roots. Morality and
immorality have been replaced with amorality. The absence of an objective moral
standard has created a vacuum. Within that vacuum, common sense, critical
thinking, and basic logic have been suspended. Many are like “the blind man who
gropes in the dark.” (Devarim 28:29) The Yalkut on Megilla 24 explains the
obvious question: If a person is blind what difference does it make if it’s
dark? Rabbi Yosi explains that he encountered a blind man at night carrying a
torch. Rabbi Yosi asked him why he was doing so. The blind man explained that
others will see him and keep him from danger. The essential mission of current
outreach efforts must focus on protecting our brothers and sisters from the
spiritual abyss of amorality.
During the ’80s, I taught at the
University of California. In my ethics class I posed a problem for my students
to solve. It went something like this: A Marine battalion arrives on what was
assumed to be a deserted atoll somewhere in the Pacific. Surprisingly, they
encounter a group of natives carrying a screaming young child tied to a log
towards a fiery alter. The natives are about to offer the child to the large
idol next to the fire. You are the Marine commander; your troops are fully
armed and combat ready. What do you do?
My students thought for a short
while and, out of 29 students, 23 (79.3%) clearly understood that human
sacrifice is murder. Therefore, the Marines needed to stop it from happening,
especially since they had the capability to do so. After class, the six
students who were morally confused were tutored by the majority to understand
why we should not stand back, when we have a choice, if something horribly
immoral is unfolding.
Last year I asked a group of “elite”
college-age students the same question. The overwhelming majority 16 out of 19
(84.2%) basically said that, since the Marines were “invading” the atoll, they
needed to stand down since the locals were entitled to worship as they deemed
fit. Society is paying a high price for extreme “open-mindedness” and “woke”
culture.
Thirty years ago there was a
humorous story about a third-grade teacher who brought a bunny to class. The
children wanted to name it, but to choose a name they had to determine whether
it was male or female. One child raised his hand and said, “I know; lets take a
vote.” It was a joke then. Today, in the U.S., laws are being passed which
support the idea that the determination of gender is not about factual reality.
The Woke have made the joke a reality.
In our current environment, two
things are absolutely critical: First, let’s keep our kettles on or near the
flame. “Groupthink” is dangerous. It has an insidious way of sneaking up on us,
and most of us are surrounded by it! Remember, the hot tea can easily become
the ambient temperature of the room. Second, we need to be sensitized to our
fellow Jews who are groping in the dark. We have a responsibility to seek out the
ones who might still be holding a torch, no matter how dim! Jewish outreach (kiruv) is incumbent upon all of us, not
just the paid professionals.
