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Don’t make a mistake by not reaching out to estranged friends

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Message: If you are having trouble reading this email, you may view this article online at: http://www.jweekly.com/37544/full/37544/dont-make-a-mistake-by-not-reaching-out-to-estranged-friends/ Don’t make a mistake by not reaching out to estranged friends Thursday, March 19, 2009 | by rabbi judah dardik Vayakhel-Pekudei Exodus 35:1-40:38 Maftir HaChodesh: Exodus 12:1-20 Ezekiel 45:16-46:18 One of many aspects of Jewish tradition that I appreciate is that it is constantly offering new opportunities to begin again. Didn’t get the start that you wanted at High Holy Day time? Don’t fret: Chanukah will come soon and teach about bringing light into the darkness. Didn’t get it together in December? Here’s come Tu B’Shvat and rebirth in the natural world! Now comes another “new year,” celebrating the birth month of the Jewish people and the origin of our calendar. <img alt="rabbi judah dardik" class="left" height="200" src="http://dev.jweekly.com/images/uploads/column_pics/torah/rabbi judah dardik.jpg" title="rabbi judah dardik" width="126" />In honor of the Shabbat immediately before Nissan, the special maftir reading of HaChodesh will be read at the end of Torah reading on Saturday, March 21. It is so named due to its near opening words, “This month (HaChodesh) will be for you the first of months” (Exodus 12:2). Many classical commentators count this as the very first mitzvah in the Torah, the commandment to establish the Jewish calendar based on the cycles of the moon. These verses also serve a critical role in the telling of the tragic story of the great Rabbi Elazar Ben Arach of the Talmud. When Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai passed away, four of his premier students went together to teach at the academy in Yavneh, but Rabbi Elazar ben Arach chose to move instead to a place where “the waters were lovely and the view was beautiful.” He waited for his friends to join him, but they never came. He then decided to move to Yavneh, but his wife would have nothing of it. She asked, “Who needs whom?” He responded, “They need me.” She said, “Who goes to whom: The mouse to the bread or the other way around? It’s the mice that go to the bread!” He took her advice and remained in a lovely place but without study partners, and gradually forgot all of his learning. So profoundly ignorant did he become, that when called to read this week’s maftir, instead of reading the first words correctly (“HaChodesh hazeh lachem”) he read them to say “their heart was deaf” (“HaCheresh hayah libam”). All those present began to cry over the loss of a master’s phenomenal knowledge. This story could certainly be read as a cautionary tale regarding the corrosive effects of materialism. Rabbi Elezar and his wife became so comfortable in their new life that their hearts became deaf; their values were compromised and he forgot all of his learning. But I believe that there is more here. Did you notice the argument offered by his wife? It isn’t about how lovely the place is and how comfortable, but rather about “who needs whom.” That’s not an issue of materialism, it’s an issue of friendship. Rabbi Yochanan’s death represented a pivotal moment for his five elite students. They had a choice: to remain together and relocate to Yavneh, or to go their separate ways. Four of them chose the former option, but Rabbi Elazar chose the latter. Those who went to Yavneh formed a strong bond with one another, creating a social construct wherein growth was encouraged. Rabbi Elazar thought he could keep in touch with them, but his new life conspired against rekindling that relationship. We all have relationships like this, people with whom we were once close and yet have forgotten us as they moved on in life. And just as often, we are the ones doing the forgetting. It’s hard to reestablish contact. There is the sense that the other person should have reached out to us, or the concern that we will have nothing to talk about once we actually do make contact and perhaps a fear that one’s overtures toward renewal of friendship will be rejected. At the time of the original commandment of Parashat HaChodesh, the Jewish people were united. As slaves who had nothing, everyone was on equal financial footing, they were living in the same place, no one had parted ways, and people still cared for one another. Rabbi Elazar’s mistake revealed that he and his friends had moved so very far away from that point, and this is our challenge as well. Rabbi Judah Dardik is the spiritual leader at Orthodox Beth Jacob in Oakland. He can be reached at <a href="mailto:Rabbi@BethJacobOakland.org">Rabbi@BethJacobOakland.org</a>.

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