Rosh Hashanah–Day 1
“Transforming the World One Mitzvah at a Time”
 Congregation Agudas Achim - Sept.19, 2009
Rabbi Melissa Crespy

This past July, I had the privilege of attending the Legacy Heritage Rabbinic Enrichment Initiative, lovingly called “LHREI”.  LHREI is a wonderful fellowship, which, through two summer conferences at the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York, and mentoring, and guided Torah study, helps Conservative rabbis in the field learn management and leadership skills. 
During one of our sessions, in our small group of six, we discussed B’HAGS – Big Hairy Audacious Goals.  B’HAGS are “challenging, exciting, highly motivating, easily communicated, substantial goals, achievable within a given time frame.”   We discussed different ideas, and finally one member of the group, we’ll call him “Jose,” shouted out to us in the spirit of his native country, “Guys, Guys, you’re thinking too small!  Judaism is the world’s moral compass!  Why did the Israelis jump to help the sufferers of the Tsunami?!  Because we have this as a moral obligation!  We are meant to be a beacon to the world; “a light unto the nations!”

We couldn’t go back to our “smaller visions” after Jose’s remarks.  And when we came back to the larger group, we presented our B’HAG – “To transform the world, one mitzvah at a time” – “To transform the world, one mitzvah at a time.”
I loved this B’HAG because it spoke to the greatness of Judaism and the Jewish people, and the role we can and should be playing in the world, and because it was something that, with a lot of commitment and hard work, we could all participate in, and could accomplish.  And, let’s face it, Rosh Hashanah is considered the birth day of the world; what better time than today to begin working on this big, hairy audacious goal!

Now, you probably think I’m crazy, but I’m not, and this will be the goal in my head from now until we accomplish it:  To transform the world, one mitzvah at a time. Many of us grew up feeling that the mitzvot, the commandments, were things like keeping kosher, davening and observing Shabbat.  And these, indeed are some of the most important ritual mitzvot in our tradition, toward which we should all be striving.  But there are a whole slew of ethical and moral mitzvot which are no less binding on us – and together, the ritual and the ethical mitzvot are what guide our daily lives as Jews.

Let’s take a look at a famous passage from the Talmud (based on Shabbat 127a):  “These are the deeds that yield immediate fruit and continue to yield fruit in time to come: honoring parents; doing deeds of loving-kindness; attending the house of study punctually, morning and evening; providing hospitality; visiting the sick; helping the needy bride; attending the dead; probing the meaning of prayer; making peace between one person and another, and between husband and wife.  And the study of Torah is the most basic of them all.” (Translation: Siddur Sim Shalom for Shabbat)

First, I want us to notice that in this passage there are both what we would call “ritual” mitzvot (attending the house of study, probing the meaning of prayer, studying Torah) and “ethical” mitzvot (providing hospitality, visiting the sick, making peace).   And this is true throughout rabbinic literature, both ancient and modern.   To have an authentic and meaningful Jewish life, we need to live by both the ritual and the ethical mitzvot.

There are two “ethical mitzvot” which I’d like to explore this morning, hoping that beginning to observe, or enriching our observance of these mitzvot will bring us closer to our B’HAG of transforming the world, one mitzvah at a time: Bikkur Holim - visiting the sick; and Hakhnassat Orchim – welcoming guests.

The seminal Talmudic passage on visiting the sick occurs in the Talmud, Tractate Nedarim (40a): “One of Rabbi Akiva’s student’s became sick, and none of the sages came to visit him.  Rabbi Akiva, however, went to visit him and, because he swept and cleaned the floor for him, the student became better.  The student said to Rabbi Akiva, ‘My teacher, you have brought me back to life.’  Rabbi Akiva went out and taught: ‘Whoever does not visit the sick, it is as if he spilled blood.’”

The student may well have been too poor to hire someone to nurse him or even to clean his room.  Rabbi Akiva understood that a lack of care, along with a lack of clean surroundings, could lead to the young man’s becoming sicker and even dying.  Furthermore, the student’s life was boosted because he knew that his teacher, a prominent man, cared about him.

Why did no one else visit the student?  One possible reason is that visiting the sick is both time-consuming and often emotionally taxing, so many people prefer to assume, without investigating, that someone else is taking care of the patient, at the very least, family members.  But this is often not the case.  There are many people who are alone in their illness, and they shouldn’t be.  Jewish law provides a number of directives in how to visit the sick, when to visit, and what we should do when we visit.  Rabbi Joseph Telushkin’s book, A Code of Jewish Ethics, volume 2, provides many of these laws and suggestions.  But the most important part is that we should be there, be present, when someone is ill in our community.

A special group of people who should be visited is the very elderly, and we have a number of them in our community.  They often have lost friends, are physically incapable of getting around, and lead lonely, isolated lives.  We should make it our business to find out who they are, visit them, take them out somewhere if they are able, and just talk to them to break up their often monotonous days.
The laws of Bikkur Holim apply to all of us.  Though in our “modern” synagogues, visiting the sick is delegated to the clergy, that’s not the way it is supposed to be.  As is true of most of the mitzvot in the Torah and Talmud, these laws are directed toward every Jew.  This is one of those practices that creates and develops a caring Jewish community.  Can we work toward becoming that model community that is a “light unto the nations”?  Can we create a Bikkur Holim group at Agudas Achim, study some of the Jewish practices regarding it, and then make sure that all our sick members, those in nursing homes and members who are shut-ins, get a visit every week by a member of our community?  I think we can, and here is a true story that can be an inspiration for us (Telushkin, A Code of Jewish Ethics, volume 2, pp. 66-67):

Yossi was born with a defective heart.  His parents were advised that he would need an operation when he turned seven, and that the operation was best done in America.

Yossi’s parents, both Israelis, knew no one in America, so when the time came, a mutual friend put them in touch with me [Rabbi Abraham Twerski, M.D.], and I found a medical center in Pittsburgh, where I live, where the surgery could be performed.  Several months later, Yossi and his parents arrived.

Neither Yossi nor his parents understood a single word of English, so I put out the word in the Pittsburgh community for anyone who spoke Hebrew to contact me.  29 people volunteered, and I contacted all of them for an emergency meeting.

At this meeting, I explained the predicament.  Yossi would be hospitalized for at least two weeks, and it was absolutely essential that an interpreter be available at all times.  There was no way he could make himself understood by the staff.  I asked people to volunteer several hours of their time to be in attendance, and we arranged a schedule that covered 24 hours a day for two weeks.  Each person had an assigned time, and we agreed that one person would not leave until the next arrived.  The plan operated like clockwork.  Yossi and his parents were never left alone, and not only was there effective interpretation, but the family also received the support of interested people.  The postoperative period was not without many anxious moments, and Yossi’s parents swear that without the moral support of so many friends, they could never have survived it.

The entire hospital was impressed by this community cooperation and devotion, and when Yossi was discharged, the surgeon waived his bill!  The family had no insurance coverage, and the hospital wrote off whatever they could and gave them the lowest rate.  This was paid through donations made by friends of the small community that had sprung up around Yossi.  Before Yossi left for home, a gala party was held, attended by the volunteers, contributors, surgeon, and other members of the hospital staff.  Tearful good-byes were said, there was much embracing, lots of people gave of themselves and got back this: They had helped to save a little boy.  Along the way, each one discovered qualities inside them that might never have been tapped if not for Yossi.  On top of this, many friendships had been formed during this period, and these people, who had not known each other, became close friends, having worked for a common cause.

Do I have a volunteer to help us start such a caring community?  Can we have a core of 29, or even 20 dedicated younger and older men and women to create a holy Bikkur Holim society?  I ask you to think deeply about this!  I would love to find in my e-mail box or my voicemail on Monday, people who want to start learning about and doing this wonderful mitzvah!  How enriched we would all be!

Hakhnassat Orchim literally means “bringing in guests.”  We should actively recruit guests, and look for opportunities to invite people to our homes.  Our model for this in the Torah is Abraham, who sat in the heat of the day, and welcomed three men into his home graciously, washing their feet (remember, this was in the desert), and giving them a place to sit under the shade of a tree.  He and his wife Sarah then prepared a lavish meal, and Abraham personally served it to the guests.  When they left, Abraham walked alongside them to see them off.  Abraham and Sarah took care of all their needs in a personal way.

I have felt the warmth and giving of this community even before I arrived in town.  Four days before I arrived, Larry, Avi and Netanya arrived in Bexley at midnight, eight hours before the movers were arriving with our belongings, including our beds.  They were warmly welcomed at that late hour, into the home of Greg Adams and Leah Weintraub, where they slept on comfortable beds, and had a great breakfast in the morning.  Leah and Rabbi Idit Jacques had bought paper plates, plastic silverware and cups and napkins, and a not so small larder of food, which was waiting for Larry and the kids at our new house.  Kenny Steinman, Adam Davis and Steven Davidoff came to the house that first day, and helped Larry get the kids to camp, direct the movers to the right rooms and unpack.  Amy Fingerhut and Robin Judd made delicious meals for my family, so that Larry could focus on unpacking.  And that first Friday night, Leah and Greg hosted us for Shabbat dinner.  We were soon thereafter warmly welcomed to the Nedava minyan’s Shabbat dinner.  And the list goes on.  What a warm welcome!  What a feeling of being wanted in the community!   I wish we could welcome everyone in our community in such a warm and caring way.  And I think that, if we make it a goal, we really can.

Fortunately, people don’t move in and out of houses too often, but every Friday night, Shabbat comes, and with it, the opportunity to welcome people into our homes for a Shabbat meal.    Here we can accomplish two mitzvot at one time; we can honor Shabbat, and we can practice Hakhnassat Orchim – hospitality, bringing in guests!   I want you to think about some of the people you know in this congregation, or some that you’ve seen, but not yet gotten to know.  Do you know if these people are alone on Friday night?  Are you having Shabbat dinner for your family – or might you consider starting to observe this mitzvah? Look around this room.  There are people in this community who are lonely on Friday night, or Yom Tov.  There are people who may never have received an invitation to someone’s home in this community.   We claim to be a warm, welcoming community, but are we really?  Or are we only warm and welcoming to the people we know and love?  Opening our homes to people in our community – to people older and younger than we are, as well as our own age cohorts, to people who are single or widowed, as well as families, will help to create a truly caring and welcoming community.  Can we form a Hakhnassat Orchim committee, study the “best practices” of this mitzvah, and then have people who will work their hardest to match people up?  Can we make sure that every new member of our synagogue almost instantaneously receives an invitation for a Shabbat meal?  Can I announce at Shabbat morning services, “Is there someone who would like to share Shabbat lunch with one of our members?” and have a pre-determined family or individual – one of a core group of Shabbat “inviters” - take the interested people to their home?   Do I have volunteers who will help us begin this important and beautiful mitzvah?  Will my email or voicemail be filled with people who lovingly want to start us on this sacred path of truly “bringing in guests?” We CAN do this – and it will enrich not only the people we invite, but also ourselves.  And it will put the word out that Agudas Achim is truly a warm and welcoming community.

These two mitzvot – Bikkur Holim (Visiting the sick) and Hakhnassat Orchim (Welcoming guests) are only two of many mitzvot which will help us to transform the world.   But they are SO important.  The Talmud tells us that God, Godself visited Abraham when he was suffering from his circumcision, thus becoming the first “person” to practice Bikkur Holim.  The Talmud also tells us that “Hospitality is even greater than receiving the Divine Presence” (Shabbat 127a)!  That is to say, welcoming guests is even more important than praying to God!

What would it say about our congregation if we became known as the most welcoming, the most compassionate congregation in Columbus?  It would say that we really love and believe in our tradition, that we take the “ethical” mitzvot as seriously as we take the ritual mitzvot, that we truly care about our community, and that we want to walk in God’s path of goodness.  Let’s get on that path; let’s look inside and outside ourselves and create the most welcoming and caring community we can.  Today is the birthday of the world!  What a wonderful way to start!

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