Dear Friends,
You push the wheelbarrow your way, I push it my way. Similarly, you dry the glasses your way, I do it my way.
So simple, yet this is a central expression of Torah this week. You would think this was one of those proverbial lessons we learned in kindergarten, yet it goes back so much farther than that, and it sometimes it seems like it was never learned at all.
Torah teaches, “You shall not plow with an ox and an ass together.” (Deuteronomy 22:10) Why? Because they pulled with different force and different speeds, and the weaker animal would be burdened to keep up with the stronger. Hence, this is not merely a command to recognize our differences and diversity, but to recognize our compassion for the efforts and ability and will of those of differing abilities. It speaks to our basic humility.
But, more. It is a reminder to keep this sensitivity in our foreground. How many times I have driven at or a little above the speed limit, especially on the I-84 around Newburgh, where the speed limit drops to 55 miles per hour from 65 miles per hour, and another car comes speeding up and honks at me. I feel like the ass and the other vehicle is the ox. Or is it the other way around?
There are moments – seemingly daily – whether on the road, from the news, or waiting in the grocery line, where we encounter moments of operating in the same space, but at differing paces or objectives, and recognizing the validity of the way of the other is demanded, for the sake of peace and decency.
The rabbis taught that Shalom Bayit – peace in the home – even the massive home of our freeways, cities or markets – demands some humility and pacing and respect for the other one’s way. It may require us to realize that we are an ox or an ass, or to tolerate and even embrace the ox or the ass in the other.
And, as much as this may be one of the messages of our Torah portion today, it also is a central tenet of the High Holy Day: recognize the animal whom we are, and accept with compassion the animal next to us. So easy to state; yet so demanding to do.
Then, we might be able to pull the plow of life together!
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Douglas Kohn
You push the wheelbarrow your way, I push it my way. Similarly, you dry the glasses your way, I do it my way.
So simple, yet this is a central expression of Torah this week. You would think this was one of those proverbial lessons we learned in kindergarten, yet it goes back so much farther than that, and it sometimes it seems like it was never learned at all.
Torah teaches, “You shall not plow with an ox and an ass together.” (Deuteronomy 22:10) Why? Because they pulled with different force and different speeds, and the weaker animal would be burdened to keep up with the stronger. Hence, this is not merely a command to recognize our differences and diversity, but to recognize our compassion for the efforts and ability and will of those of differing abilities. It speaks to our basic humility.
But, more. It is a reminder to keep this sensitivity in our foreground. How many times I have driven at or a little above the speed limit, especially on the I-84 around Newburgh, where the speed limit drops to 55 miles per hour from 65 miles per hour, and another car comes speeding up and honks at me. I feel like the ass and the other vehicle is the ox. Or is it the other way around?
There are moments – seemingly daily – whether on the road, from the news, or waiting in the grocery line, where we encounter moments of operating in the same space, but at differing paces or objectives, and recognizing the validity of the way of the other is demanded, for the sake of peace and decency.
The rabbis taught that Shalom Bayit – peace in the home – even the massive home of our freeways, cities or markets – demands some humility and pacing and respect for the other one’s way. It may require us to realize that we are an ox or an ass, or to tolerate and even embrace the ox or the ass in the other.
And, as much as this may be one of the messages of our Torah portion today, it also is a central tenet of the High Holy Day: recognize the animal whom we are, and accept with compassion the animal next to us. So easy to state; yet so demanding to do.
Then, we might be able to pull the plow of life together!
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Douglas Kohn
