Tonight I want to tell you the tale of two disputes. The first is a famous dispute between the conductor Leonard Bernstein and the pianist Glenn Gould. The second is a dispute related in this week’s Torah portion between Moses and Korah.

 

On the evening of  Friday, April 6, 1962, Leonard Bernstein was to conduct the New York Philharmonic in a performance of Brahms D minor Concerto. The guest soloist was Glenn Gould, one of the most celebrated classical pianists of the 20th century. Before the concert began, Mr. Bernstein turned to the audience and spoke to them, something he rarely did.He told the audience that they were about to hear an “unorthodox performance” of Brahms D Minor Concerto, a performance unlike he had ever heard, or even dreamt of. Mr. Gould was going to play the concerto in a way that departed significantly from the way it had traditionally been performed, a way that was incompatible with Mr. Berstein’s own understanding of how it should sound. Sometimes, he explained, a soloist and a conductor have different ideas about how a musical composition is supposed to be performed. But they almost always manage, through persuasion, or charm, or even threats, to achieve a unified performance. This time, however, Mr. Bernstein said, he was forced to submit to Mr. Gould’s wholly new concept of Brahms D Minor Concerto.

 

Why, Leonard Berstein asked, would he have gone along with this? He could, after all, have caused a minor scandal by getting a substitute soloist, or, letting another person conduct! Instead he shared with the audience three reasons for his decision.  First, he said, Glenn Gould was such an accomplished and serious artist that he ought to take anything he conceives in good faith. Second, he found moments in the pianist’s performance that emerged with astonishing freshness and conviction. Third, Glenn Gould brought to music a curiosity, a sense of adventure and a willingness to experiment which Mr. Bernstein admired. Maestro Bernstein felt that everyone in the audience  could  learn something from hearing the concerto as performed by Glenn Gould. With that introduction, Mr. Bernstein went on to conduct Brahms Concerto in D Minor with Glenn Gould as the piano soloist, doing it Mr. Gould’s way.

 

The second story is in this week’s parasha which  relates the dispute between Moses and Korah. Korah, Moses' first cousin, is jealous that Aaron has been appointed High Priest.  To compound the issue, another cousin, Elitzafan, has been chosen as the head of the clan to which Korah belongs. Korah incites a revolt that challenges Moses’ leadership. Moses tries to reason with Korah and his followers, but they refuse to talk to him. The episode ends in tragedy, as Korah and his followers are swallowed up by the earth.

 

 These two stories raise the question of how we deal with disagreements, both personal and societal. Does one side have to win, and the other be destroyed, as in the Biblical story of Korah and his rebellion? Or is there a way to listen to one another with respect and understanding, even though, in the end, there is still no room for compromise, as in the story of Bernstein and Gould. The Maestro, after all, ended up performing the piece precisely Glenn Gould’s way. Yet no one was destroyed, their relationship endured, the audience was treated to an original  interpretation  of the Concerto and both parties went on to illustrious careers. 

 

Here we can learn something from the philosopher Sir Isaiah Berlin. He rejects “relativism”, the idea that every side to a dispute has equal truth and equal validity. The relativist claims that there is no “absolute truth” -- every opinion is equally true. The relativist claims that there is no “true” and “false” when it comes to beliefs and opinions. Rather, Isaiah Berlin favors a way of viewing disputes that he calls “pluralism”. A pluralistic understanding of disputes is that honest people, through their reasoning can attain  many different understandings of the” truth.” I can maintain that my view is “the truth” yet still respect those who have come to a different idea of “the truth”  arrived at through a sincere and thoughtful process. They may not share my understanding of the truth, but I can still respect them and be friendly with them. I do not need to destroy them, insult them, or delegitimize them. They are my fellow disputants, not my mortal enemies. I may even learn a thing or two from them! 

 

The Talmud is full of disputes like this. The Talmud records all  the opinions of the Rabbis on various sides of a dispute for posterity. The most famous of these are the disputes between the School of Hillel and the School of Shammai. In exploring the Bible to determine how G-d wants us to live our lives, they often come to diametrically opposite conclusions. In other words, two opposing “truths' '!  Most of the time, we live our lives according to the opinions of Hillel. But, say the rabbis, that does not mean that the opinions of Shammai are not to be respected. They are to be preserved. One day, the opinions of Hillel may be put aside and we will govern our lives according to the opinions of Shammai. The opinions of Hillel may  be true only for our time! 

 

Both Hillel and Shammai and Bernstein and Gould model what we can call “healthy controversy”. This can take place only when we approach a dispute or debate with intellectual honesty and a desire to truly listen, with understanding, to the “truth” of others. A healthy controversy can only take place when we refrain from denigrating or insulting one another. It can only take place when we are motivated by a true desire to engage the other, and not with the goal to devalue, demean,  embarrass or overpower the other with our” brilliance” and rhetorical mastery. The rabbis call these healthy controversies “disputes for the sake of heaven”. May all of our controversies be …..”For the Sake of Heaven”.

Shabbat Shalom

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

 

Half Empty or Half Full?

I have heard it said that a pessimistic person thinks that the glass is half empty. The optimistic person says that the glass is half full. And the hopeful person says, “You may be using  the wrong glass!”

In this week’s parasha the Israelites are poised to enter the Land of Canaan. Although it is popularly believed that the Israelites wandered in the desert for 40 years, this is not the whole story. After leaving Egypt the Israelite camped at Mt. Sinai for about one year where they received the Torah and assembled the Mishkah. Then, they pulled up camp and, just a few months later, they were prepared to enter Canaan. Moses sends 12 spies to reconnoiter the land. They have two missions. The first is to assess the strength of the Canaanites who inhabited the land. The second is to investigate the geography and fertility of the land itself. After 40 days the spies return with their report. I imagine that when the spies met with Moses  the conversation went something like this:

Spies:  “Well, Moses, we have some good news and some bad news,” said ten of the spies, who we will call “the pessimists.”

“Mainly good news,” interrupted Joshua and Caleb, the optimists.

“Which would you like first?” said the pessimists.

“Give me the good news,” said Moses hopefully.

“The land is indeed ‘flowing with milk and honey’. It is a good land. It is fertile. It can easily sustain our population for generations to come. There is plenty of room to grow and prosper”.

“And the bad news?” asked Moses warily.

“There is no bad news,” said the optimists.

“The bad news,“  continued the pessimists, “is that the Canaanites who live there are very powerful. They live in walled cities. They are well practiced in the art of war. We don’t have a chance against them.”

“It is true that they are powerful and well-defended,” countered the optimists. But we can overcome them. We must enter the land now, and defeat them!”

As we know, the pessimists carried the day. Word got out about their dire assessment, and the People of Israel began to panic. The Israelites threatened to rebel against Moses and appoint new leaders who would guide them back to the safety of Egypt. In their fear, they forgot what slavery was like.

Moses had a crisis on his hands. So Moses did what Moses does when he confronts a crisis. He consults G-d. Moses had never seen G-d so frustrated. In fact, G-d was in the process of scrapping his old plans and drawing up new ones, which He was quite eager to share with Moses. G-d’s new plan was to rip up the covenant with the Jewish people, send pestilence in their midst, wipe them out to a man, and make a new covenant with Moses and his descendants.  It might take a little longer, but G-d was determined to fulfill His promise to Abraham and Sarah that the Land of Canaan would belong to the Jewish people.

Moses, the man of hope, countered. G-d had traveled too far down this path with the People of Israel to turn back now. To destroy them at this point in the game and start all over with Moses’ descendants would irreparably damage G-d’s reputation among the nations of the world who had heard of the Exodus from Egypt.  People would say, argued Moses, that the same G-d who performed signs and wonders and brought the People out of Egypt was powerless to bring them into the Land of Canaan!  Moreover, Moses reminds G-d of something that apparently G-d Himself had forgotten. Remember, G-d, You Yourself said You were “slow to anger”. You yourself said you were “abounding in kindness”.  You yourself said you were “forgiving”!  “G-d,” I imagine Moses saying, “I can hardly recognize You!”

Moses, the man of hope, carried the day. G-d relented, forgave, and developed a new plan that would delay the Israelite entrance into the Land of Canaan for another 38 years. By then, reasoned G-d, the people would be ready to see the glass half full. 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, of blessed memory, discerns another difference between a person who is optimistic and a person who has hope. He writes, “One of the most important distinctions I have learned in the course of reflection on Jewish history is the difference between optimism and hope. Optimism is the belief that things will get better. Hope is the belief that, together, we can make things better. Optimism is a passive virtue, hope an active one. It takes no courage to be an optimist, but it takes a great deal of courage to have hope. Knowing what we do of our past, no Jew can be an optimist. But Jews have never – despite a history of sometimes awesome suffering – {Jews have never]  given up hope”.

To that we can all say, AMEN! 

Photo by manu schwendener on Unsplash

 

Time to Move Forward

Silver trumpets from King
Tut's tomb. 1326BCE

This week’s Torah portion introduces us to two objects that were of great importance  to the Israelites as they  traveled through the wilderness. Both are made of precious metals, the first of gold, the second of silver. Both were to be made by hammering, a process of shaping metals into forms. The first of these objects is the Menorah. It was to be made of hammered gold. The second were two trumpets. They were to be made of hammered silver.

What is the connection between the menorah and the two trumpets? The 16th century Kabbalist, Rabbi Isaac Luria, suggests that the three branches on either side of the stalk of the menorah represent scientific and academic knowledge, whereas the stalk in the center represents the light of the Torah. This teaches us that science and religion are not rivals. They are both gifts of G-d. They shed light on one another and together illuminate our world. Thus, the menorah is the physical representation of the Divine light, as when we say, in the priestly blessing, “May G-d shine His light upon you..” In this blessing, we are asking G-d to guide us by illuminating our path through life. We might stumble in our steps moving forward without G-d’s guidance. 

The two silver trumpets represent another way of moving forward. When both trumpets are blown in long blasts, the entire community is to gather at the Tent of Meeting. When only one is blown, it is a signal for only the leaders to assemble. But if both are blown in short blasts, the entire People of Israel are to move forward.

But the trumpets are not only used to rouse the people. They are used to arouse G-d as well!  In wartime, the trumpets are sounded to alert G-d that Israel is in trouble, and on festivals the trumpets are sounded to remind G-d that the Jewish people are faithfully observing the holidays. 

So there we have it! The menorah is used to remind the Jewish people of G-d’s presence, whereas the trumpets are used to remind G-d of our presence!  The light of the Menorah is a reminder that G-d’s light is always with us. This is the light, as I said earlier, of friendship and love,  of knowledge and wisdom. It is the light of justice, truth and peace. Whereas we see the light, G-d hears the trumpets.  When G-d hears the trumpets G-d will know we are in danger and come to our aid. When we sound the trumpets on our festivals, it is a reminder to G-d that we are standing before our Sovereign, and that G-d should take notice.  

While the light of the menorah reminds us of the Presence of G-d in our lives, the blast of the trumpet signifies that we must take action and move forward in accordance with that light. The trumpet represents human agency, the need to move, to act decisively when summoned by the times. We need both the Presence of G-d in our lives as well as our own strength to meet the challenges of our times. When the Covid 19 crisis arose, many saw it as  “the defining moment of our generation” -- an enormous, disruptive event that will shape our lives for years to come. As we emerge from this crisis, we, as a Jewish community, will have to find our way forward. Jewish leaders all around the world are asking how this pandemic  will affect our communities, for better and for worse, in the coming years.

It is time to blast the trumpets once again, as we leave the Covid era behind and move forward into a world that has been greatly changed. Through our awareness of G-d’s presence, symbolized by the menorah, and through our ability to come together and advance as one, symbolized by the trumpets, we will surely meet the challenges of the future successfully.

Shabbat Shalom