Everyone has a story. Each of us has an inner narrative which defines who we are and how we present ourselves to the world. Most of us have joyful stories which generate our smiles and move us to reach out with kindness to those we touch. Inevitably, most of us can recount episodes or an ongoing theme that is harsh and sad and discouraging. Moments that prompt us sometimes to strike out with anger or bitterness. We want others to know and understand our inner stories, our deeper moods and feelings, even if we are unable or unwilling to present them neatly and fully. We want to share our joys - sharing increases our happiness. We want others to know when life is difficult for us or confusing; and treat us kindly, judging us gently and with compassion. The student exuberantly rushed up to his Rebbe. “Rebbe, Rebbe, I love you, I love you.” “Do you know what hurts me?” the Rebbe responded. “How can I know what hurts you,” the dumbfounded student replied? The Rebbe looked at him with plaintive eyes: “How can you love me, if you don’t know what hurts me?” How well do we know the stories of those around us? What makes them happy? What brings them pleasure? Our children's’ inner stories take shape over the first decades of life. Only with time do the changes, rushes forward, times of exuberance and retreats, their turmoil and peaceful interludes all fall into a coherent whole. Do we know what fulfills our children or do we simply assume that what we give them is what they need or want? Do we know when our children are hurting seep inside? How they really feel when they falter, make mistakes, experience hurt? Or do we assume...dismiss...ignore? We know best the inner stories of the handful of those with whom we share intimate connection. And precisely here, the Rebbe’s question addresses us: are we always sensitive -- are we aware enough -- of what troubles those we love or what lifts up their spirits? I believe our relationships in family would be enriched -- and our children would be more whole -- if we could listen more keenly to the stories of those we love and what causes their discomforts. Oft times, only a careful listening to another’s story is needed. One human being present for another. Sometimes a reassuring word or a helping hand is important. Sometimes more concrete aid is called for. But true relationship begins when we acknowledge that the person before us carries a story woven with threads of gold and silver as well as darker hues. Listening, very careful listening. Listening Rosh Hashanah, 5772/2011 Herman J. Blumberg, Rabbi Emeritus Temple Shir Tikva - Wayland, Massachusetts 2 Try this simply test: Ask your partner, your spouse, your sibling, your adult children, a good friend: Could I be more finely attuned to what makes you happy or sad? Realize, too, that everyone carries an inner narrative. I believe the quality of our daily life would be enhanced if we could be more sensitive to the fact that those we meet casually possess intimate, personal stories: our neighbors, our colleagues or class mates. And beyond: those who serve us in restaurants and check out lines; the people who clean our houses and offices and homes; the stranger standing next to us in a public place, those who speak another language or wear a shade of skin color darker than ours or facial features different from ours. We do not have to know the content of their stories. In truth, it is inappropriate to probe dig into their intimacies. We do have to recognize that each person around us has an inner life accounting, filled with some successes and certain difficulty. With a word or a gesture or body language we can affirm that person, their humanity, the spark of Godliness within them. We do have to acknowledge that, inevitably, those we meet carry aches in their hearts and it is our obligation not to aggravate the pain and where we can, to lessen it. In most human encounters the prescription is simple: to practice restraint: overcoming indifference, withholding judgment, curbing our sense of entitlement. Jewish mystical theology has a unique way of articulating how we should relate to one another. It is called Tzimtzum, literally “self-contraction”. This is the concept that Rabbi Gold spoke of the other evening. As God contracted self to make room for the created universe, so must we pull ourselves in to make room for one those around us. Tzimtzum is the antonym, the very opposite of hubris. Humility at one end of spectrum; self righteousness at the other. How can we be good parents, if our own needs take priority over listening to our children, hearing their deepest needs? How can we be good teachers, if we think that teaching is limited to presenting our ideas to passive students? Or good leaders in the work place, if we think we have all the answers and expect those around us to be compliant followers? How can we be good doctors, if we are experts at reading patients’ lab reports, but do not make time to hear their stories? How can we be good neighbors, if we fill all the space and take up all the air time? How can we be spiritually alive if we see those around us only as objects to serve us, to be managed and manipulated by us? How can we be truly human without making room to hear another’s inner story? If the notion of Tzimtzum is essential for our personal connections, it is also relevant in our collective life as an American nation and as a Jewish community. Ample measures of pulling in, of humility, of truly listening to one another may help us out of the mess our country is in. Listening Rosh Hashanah, 5772/2011 Herman J. Blumberg, Rabbi Emeritus Temple Shir Tikva - Wayland, Massachusetts 3 A recent illustration accompanying a New Yorker article by George Packer displays two large squares, cut into the ground, suggestive of the newly-created memorial to the victims of 9/11. Identical American flags at full mast emerge from each square. One square is colored red; the other blue. Packer’s article is titled “Coming Apart,” suggestive of the radically polarized political condition of our nation. Packer suggests that posturing has replaced whatever compromise existed in the political system. Tending self interest -- read “get reelected” -- trumps alleviation of economic suffering and national instability. Our leaders have stopped listening to one another and they appear deaf to the stories of we, the people. David Brooks characterizes both democratic and republican leaders now dominating the public conversation as as “ideologues...unable to think in holistic, emergent ways. They pick out the one factor that best conforms to their preformed prejudices and, like blind men grabbing a piece of the elephant, they persuade themselves they understand the whole thing.” ( NY Times 9/27/11) Whatever our party loyalty today there is a critical need to pull back from the belief that we posses the absolute truth, the sure way and urge our leaders to do the same. Tzimtzum. If you are a democrat who advocates for liberal candidates or one who supports Republicans, the message you should be toting is thoughtful compromise. Howard Schultz, president of Starbucks, has a credible idea: All of us should withhold contributions to any party until the fragmented, polarized, paralyzed leadership of our nation learns to work together to solve the nation’s economic crisis. Rigid ideology must give way to working solutions; the best interests of the nation must replace the best interests of any candidate, any party. How does Tzimtzum apply to us as a Jewish community? In so many ways, but these days most urgently in our dialogue about Israel. It seems that each day the IsraeliPalestinian impasse becomes more and more complicated. The anti-Israel rhetoric becomes more vitriolic. The fall-out from the liberation movements in Arab countries is more evident and scarier. And each day American Jews -- all of whom are concerned for Israel’s future -- are less able to talk civilly to one another, to listen to one another, if you will, to hear the other’s story and to search for a way out of the forest. A year ago last spring, one of our rabbinic colleagues, Rabbi Eric Gurvis, participated in a public event at Boston's Muslim American Society mosque which critics immediately characterized as :...public embrace of the Muslim American Society leadership” with the clear implication that such people support Islamist terrorists. A torrent of criticism attacked Rabbi Gurvis’ action, his character, his Jewish loyalties. A group of rabbinic colleagues responded in an open letter of support which unleashed an horrific storm of e mail communications to each signature, messages filled with venom about self-hating Jews, doing Hitler’s work, unworthy of the title rabbi. The hate e mails continued for weeks in what was clearly an organized campaign. The ultimate victim: thoughtful communal dialogue, the bone marrow of a healthy community. Listening Rosh Hashanah, 5772/2011 Herman J. Blumberg, Rabbi Emeritus Temple Shir Tikva - Wayland, Massachusetts 4 More recently, a controversy developed over J Street’s membership in CJP’s Jewish Community Relations Council that includes 42 organizations across the political and cultural spectrum. J Street is a left of center, passionately pro-Israel advocacy group, designed as an alternative voice to the powerful AIPAC organization. And last spring when the founder of J Street Jeremy ben Ami was disinvited from a speaking event to be held at a Temple Beth Avodah in Newton the rupture in our community -- long present -- was all the more evident. Today, as Israel becomes ever more embattled it is difficult -- perhaps impossible -- to have a thoughtful public conversation where Israel’s positions and actions are criticized. Even in private conversations dissent from the mainstream defense of Israel’s government is liable to unleash a barrage of passion, fear, anger an sometimes worse. If you question the government’s stance on any issue, you risk being labeled anti-Israel. If you reflect sympathy for Palestinians or defend Obama’s Middle East stance you are at best labeled naive. Sharp black and white lines have been drawn. The search for answers dries up. No doubt, some of us who are critical of Netanyahu, who advocate for compromise, who are concerned for Palestinian as well as Israeli human rights, who would urge that Israel take risks today to assure security tomorrow...no doubt we get stuck in our rigid positions. We who are left of center may not for a moment underestimate Israel’s precarious position in a sea of hatred. Not for an instant should we dismiss the threat of radical Islam and terrorism. Anti-semitism is a reality in Europe and in the Arab world. And not for a moment should we forget that Israelis’ physical lives are at peril, not ours. All the more reason to lower our voices, left, right and center, to consider, together with thoughtful correspondents in Israel, ways to secure Israel's future for every tomorrow, not just for today. The mega issues of Jewish security around the world and the welfare of Israel call for our strength, the strength that comes from honest, thoughtful dialogue. The strength that flows from eschewing attacks on one another’s character or motive. We need the power that comes from the search for facts and the dismissal of half-truths and selfserving revisionist history. We need the courage that comes from abandoning rigid ideologies for the embrace of functional solutions. The answers that flow naturally from tzimtzum, from curbing ego and arrogance. Perhaps we can best aid Israel by demonstrating here, in our community, that healthy, passionate, but respectful dialogue is the path to problem solving. It is all about listening carefully to another's story. Listening Rosh Hashanah, 5772/2011 Herman J. Blumberg, Rabbi Emeritus Temple Shir Tikva - Wayland, Massachusetts 5 You may recall the parable of a man walking in a forest, lost, searching for a way out. He meets another traveler coming towards him. “Sir, do you know the way out of this thick forest?” “I too am lost,” the man replies. “But for sure the way which I have come is not the right way. Come, let us search together.” In our personal lives and in our life together as Americans and Jews, it is time to listen more carefully, to search together with common purpose and from that novel place begin to repair our world.