Most people would say that peace, love, and unity are high on their list of values. Most people yearn to have them as central to their life experience. We see this demonstrated in the Parsha when the Torah tells us that the entire nation of Israel (men and women) mourned for the passing of Aharon because of his role as a peacemaker and promoter of love and unity between couples, and society in general.
Yet, most of those same people continue to sabotage the opportunities they get for experiencing peace, love, and unity. We allow perceived differences, be they religious, political, cultural, socio-economic, or anything else, to get in the way of our potential feelings of brotherhood.
As Jews, we know that our greatest strength comes from our togetherness. Yet we manage to consistently fight and sow discord. There are the divisions between religious and the “so called” secular. The divisions between the political left and right. Sectarian divisions within the religious population. Just when we think we are ready to be united, something comes along to give us an excuse to practice divisiveness.
These man-made walls that we put up between ourselves leave us with preconceived notions of how interactions will go between members of these “different segments.” We enter a situation with a defensive posture set in place, assuming that the “otherness,” be it political, religious, sectarian, cultural etc., will automatically ensure that our interactions will be strained.
We are convinced that our “otherness” will cause the people with whom we are interacting to treat us differently. And we are equally convinced that their “otherness” will cause us to have a negative experience when interacting with them.
How do we get ourselves to relax our defensive postures when approaching these experiences?
I heard this anecdote on the Meaningful People Podcast in an interview by Nachi Gordon with Rabbi Shlomo Katz of Efrat, Israel. He told of a man that visited Efrat for Shabbat (I think it was for a Simcha). This fellow had major religious and political differences with most of the people in that community. He told Rabbi Katz that he would come to Shul, but he would decline to participate in Birchat Kohanim (priestly blessings) although he was a Kohen. (In most of Israel the blessings are recited every Shabbat.) Why? Since the blessings are preceded by the bracha “to bless His people of Israel with love,” he didn’t feel that he could honestly profess that love towards the people, or Hashem for that matter.
This conversation took place on Friday afternoon. The next morning, Shabbat day, when it came time to recite the Birchat Kohanim, Rabbi Katz notices that this fellow was up there with the rest of the Kohanim. After services he approached him and congratulated him on the decision and asked what prompted the change.
The fellow replied that Friday night, during the services, the joy and love that he felt from the people in the community, who were so welcoming and loving, caused his defensive posture to relax, and he was able to recite the Kohen’s blessing with true love in his heart for them all.
We ask Hashem, “Barcheinu Avinu Kulanu K’echad – bless us our father, all as one.” We want to be united. We want to love and feel loved by one another. Let us learn to relax our defensive postures when regarding each other. Let us allow the love that we have for each other be the dominant force in our lives. In doing so, the blessings from Hashem will flow to us with love.
Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Mendel Rivkin