Reel Judaism Sunday

I have dabbled in Buddhism and Jewish mysticism. Both practices appeal to me although I am both a bad jew and a bad Buddhist. Anyway, because I found Winkler's latest newsletter so appealing I wanted to share it. This is their website. Walkingstick.Org

MUCH ADO ABOUT EVERYTHING...
from Gershon

They say we are living in uncertain times. I say, with certainty, that there has never been a moment in human history when things were not uncertain. Every moment is uncertain, unknown. I could die of an aneurysm while writing this, or worse: experience a power outage. Being conscientious about how unpredictable and uncertain life really is, helps us to not set ourselves up for disappointment, and not get cardiac arrests when well-meaning friends throw us a Surprise Party at 85. More importantly, on a deeper level, it helps us cherish every moment, and make the best of our time, our time with our loved ones, our time with our work.

I myself don't have the luxury of being conscientious of the preciousness of my time here, busy as I am reminding everyone else how THEY should be more conscientious of THEIR time here. But that's my job. That's my personal excuse for being here and for doing what I do. We all need some excuse for living. Other-wise, we would be wracked with guilt beyond any guilt we'd ever otherwise experience. Life is so awesome, that who we are and what we do pales in comparison to the value of the gift that life is and that life offers us in every moment.

Then again, you and I, we never asked to be put here. So why feel guilty for living and thus having to drum up some lame excuse for the favor of existing? Exactly. We don't owe nobody nothin' and what we do gift to others and to the ever-elusive Creator of the ever-puzzling Universe is purely altruistic, from the goodness of our hearts, our own sweet, unadulterated volition. Like the ancient rabbis quote God as saying: "I owe my creations nothing, not even their very existence, yet I gift to them abundantly." So same here with you, me. We owe nothing to our being here since we never asked to exist, to begin with, and therefore the value of what we give back is immeasurable.

Take pride, then, in what you bring to this world, to this life, whether in meaningfulness or in aiding and abetting the lives of others. Take pride in every sandwich you make for someone other than your self, and in every time you pass the local bank without robbing it, or every time you are inspired to yell at your kids and you don't. Get more in touch with the benefactor you actually are even if you never gave a penny to any charitable organization or participated in a Peace march. To the world you might be an apathetic miser, but in the eyes of God you are a saint, just for that one time or two that you microwaved a dinner for someone, or made someone smile, made someone feel good about themself. Do not underestimate the degree of your righteousness, the value of what you have accomplished in your life hitherto and forevermore.

The ancient rabbis again and again emphasized this important lesson with stories of pimps and thieves who were considered more righteous than the righteously righteous just because they did one or two really nice things for others. In one such story recorded in the ancient Jerusalem Talmud (1:4 [or folio 5b]), a miracle-working rabbi is asked to pray for rain during a season of severe drought, but to no avail. He prays and prays and prays until he develops a migraine, when finally a heavenly voice says to him: "Go seek out Pentakakus the Pimp, for his prayer for rain shall be heard." The rabbi is pissed at such a suggestion but he looks for this Pentakakus fellow in the Red Light District of ancient Israel and when he finds him implores him to please pray for rain. The pimp prays for rain and it rains immediately. The rabbi, of course, is curious as to why someone of such ill-repute can succeed where he couldn't in bringing down the miraculous rain, and so he interrogates the guy. The pimp finally 'fesses that once this woman came to him pleading that he accept her into his brothel. He tried talking her out of it because she just did not seem like she was really really into it. But she persists, cries, weeps, pleads, begs. He realizes she's desperate and asks her why. She explains that she needs the money to redeem her imprisoned husband from the Roman authorities. The pimp then removes his expensive cloak as well as his expensive blankets and pillows and gives it to the woman and says: "Here, take these and sell them and redeem your husband."

The rabbi gets it. Do you? Do I? Can we please remind ourselves that we are so sweet and good and wonderful, that we have already accomplished so darn much in our lives worth not only our existence, but even a couple of reincarnations into more lucrative circumstances? How about an all-expenses-paid cruise next time, or pre-paid health insurance?

Another ancient Jewish teaching goes simply like this: "God says 'Just do, and whatever it is that you find to do, it is pleasing to Me'" (Babylonian Talmud, B'cho'ro't, folio 17b). Not much is asked of us other than we try and do our best now and then, and be a little creative about it. Like, when you microwave a dinner for someone, remove the wrapper for them and put the food on a nice dish for them. When you offer to make someone a sandwich, also ask them if they want something to drink with it. Very easy.

"If you decide to give to the poor," goes another teaching, "and you actually give to the poor, God rewards you for deciding and for giving. If you decide to give to the poor and then realize you don't have the means to do so, God rewards you for deciding and also as if you had actually given" (Midrash Sif'ri on D'varim 15:10). Or as the First-Century Rabbi Tar'fon put it: "The work is not upon you to complete; and neither are you exempt from trying" (Babylonian Talmud, Avot, 2:16). Even in religious matters, the ancient laid-back rabbis like the revered Second-Century Rabbi Yish'ma'el taught similarly: "Accept not upon your-self the fulfillment of the entire Torah, but also do not abstain from her altogether" (Babylonian Talmud, Avot D'Rebbe Natan 27:2). Or as his disciples would later paraphrase his teaching: "Let not the Torah be upon you like an obligation, nor shall you abstain from her" (Babylonian Talmud, Menachot 99b).

Gift of life? Gift of existence? Both are great. Awesome. Cool. But bottom-line let's not forget the most important gift of all. You. You and what you bring to it all.

And not just on Chanukah.

Gershon Winkler is both a renowned scholar as well as a rabbinic trickster. He has authored eleven books, including seven works on Jewish mysticism, philosophy, and folklore, and was initiated in 1978 by the late kabbalist Rabbi Eliezer Benseon of Jerusalem. For the past twenty years he has lived very close to the earth in remote wilderness regions and currently resides at the Walking Stick Retreat Center as its caretaker.

Tags:
Rabbi Gershon Winkler, Walkingstick.Org, Jews For Buddhism