וזאת תורה הנזיר ביום מלאת ימי נזיר יביא אתו...
This is the ritual for the nazirite on the day that his days as a nazirite are fulfilled: The person shall be brought to the Tent of Meeting, and shall make an offering לחטאת as an atonement offering.
Why, we might wonder – as plenty of Torah scholars before us have – would the nazirite be required to bring an atonement offering on the occasion of his retirement from service? A thanksgiving offering would be understandable, a general, all-purpose olah perhaps, but atonement? Why after a period of dedicated service would an individual need to make atonement?
In his trying to understand the perplexity of this seemingly odd requirement, Moses Maimonides, that well-known Medieval commentator who hailed from Cairo, in his Guide of the Perplexed comments on the difference between the nazarite, about whom we read in this week’s parashat Naso, and the sage. Separating themselves from the community and consciously refraining certain basic pleasures and comforts, the nazirite chooses an ascetic form of divine service. Such dedication to self-denial might be viewed as commendable, exemplary even (particularly in our Western culture of over-abundance), but as Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, the Chief Rabbi of the UK, notes in his comments on the text (cited in this week's Dov-Ray Torah compiled by Rabbi Dov Peretz Elkins), such pursuit of self perfection is not at all exemplary in the context of community.
In stark contrast, the sage remains fully engaged with society in his effort to perfect it. The sage, as Maimonides explains, recognizes and remains involved with others as he seeks to serve: he remains involved with members of one’s own family; he works together with his colleagues; he participates along with the fellow members of his community; he recognizes the need to defend and serve his country in addition to his own people.
Accordingly, one could argue that the nazirite requires atonement upon the completion of his days of service because of his eager willingness to pursue such a solitary life exclusive of family and community. Mainstream Judaism demands that we serve God by actively participating in the world. Liberal Judaism adds to this model that by doing so, we naso, we lift ourselves up as God’s partners in the ongoing creation of our world. To do so requires that we strive to create a balance among the conflicting pressures on us, working not to focus on some while neglecting others. To do requires a valuing of communal cooperation over and above the solitary pursuit of perfection.
There is no question that Richard exemplifies Maimonides’ sense of a sage. Did anyone notice that even in his remarks this evening, Richard drew attention not to [excuse the Kennedy-esque language] what he has done for Temple, but what our community has done together. He draws pride not from his solitary achievements but from that of which he has been an integral part. One of Richard’s greatest strengths is his loyalty and devotion to the Jewish community; and we should be so grateful that for the past 8 years, Temple Emanuel – both the building and its people – staff and congregants, we have been recipients of his steadfast devotion.
More significantly, the lesson that we can all learn from Richard is that like the sage model, he expresses his commitment to his task without secluding himself from the very people who form that community. Yes, he loves his work, his professional activity. As those of us share office space with him know, Richard is not eager for a leisurely retirement, he wants to work and to be involved. But, work alone does not define him. A devoted husband, father, and in more recent years, grandfather, Richard balances both family and vocation. Actively involved in Baltimore Hebrew Congregation, his home congregation, where I understand he will be installed as member of the Board for an upcoming term, active in Brotherhood – the Men of Reform Judaism, not just at his own congregation, but in quad-Temple activities and on the regional and national levels, a regular giver of blood and platelets – these are just a few of the many ways that Richard eagerly extends his hand out far beyond himself and into the community.
The Psalmist, in his quest to define מי האיש החפץ חיים, "who is the man who desires life?" notes, אהב ימים לראות טוב...ועשה שלום ורדפהו, "one who loves days so that he may seek good…seek peace, and pursue it.” One traditional understanding of this text is that the author was urging the community to do just that – to use one’s days towards the pursuit of goodness, peace, and the betterment of their lives. I don’t think the Psalmist had a better model than Richard Fishkin. Indeed Richard is one who, at least from my vantage point, uses his days to pursue goodness, to foster community, and to strive towards making this world a better place. Mi ha-Ish he-chafetz chayim - to you Richard, in honor of all that you have given us in your pursuit of goodness.
Temple Emanuel's volunteer choir, Kol Zemer, concluded my presentation by singing Mi Ha-Ish (music: B. Chait/arr. C.Heller)
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