From the Rabbi, November 2001

The Importance of Being Nice

Sales of history books have soared in the wake of recent tragedy. People are paying greater attention to issues that matter. The front page has been restored in importance, with the sports and entertainment sections seeming less important these days. With all the changes, and as we each come to grips with the new reality in our own way and time, many of us are asking an overarching question: Is this an aberration or a sea change? Are the long-term trends of expanding openness and prosperity and freedom still essentially in place, despite setbacks; or, does the great forward march of history cease here, at least for the foreseeable future? We may not know the answer for some time. Worse yet, there may be worse yet. We must be prepared for changes, some of them huge.

Still, we find hope and meaning in our lives from the smaller things. Many have noted the asymmetry between the enormity of the horror and the smallness of “random acts of kindness and senseless beauty” — yet that asymmetry in size is partially offset by the discrepancy in number, with thousands of acts of love countering each display of hate. In the days following September 11th, we were riveted on the heroism of the rescuers. Since then we’ve been hearing about, and celebrating, a rebirth of purpose and unity and civility within our nation. This ‘new’ sensibility manifests itself in all kinds of ways, from donating money and clothes and blood, to giving the time of day to passers-by.

Yet such purpose and civility aren’t always there. Too often a touching or patriotic TV spot morphs into a shameless plug for a corporation. Too often a flag-bedecked car or SUV cuts us off without even a turn-signal. Too often we find ourselves back in “normal” ways of relating to each other and the world and ourselves — momentarily forgetting that we are survivors of numerous close calls, and that we continue to mourn those who were not so fortunate.

While it’s easy to point the finger at others when they behave in these ways, we know that we ourselves are not immune. So I propose that we make an addition to the “how not to let terror win” list: Showing kavod, and doing chesed. Kavod means respect (also ‘heavy’; ‘presence’), and showing each other kavod is the our tradition’s name for civility. And doing our own small acts of chesed, of conscious loving-kindness, is going a step further still. Acts of love and kindness are not only a Judaic mitzvah, but a civic one. We can manifest kavod on the roads and the rails, at work and at play, in our comings and goings. We can actualize chesed when we sit in our house or walk by the way, when we lie down and when we rise up. And we can bring chesed and kavod to school, and to shul.

Believe it or not, even in the weeks following our national tragedy, kavod and chesed have not always been the norm at Adat Shalom: Members late to enter Wheaton High School on the High Holy Days were sometimes rude to the ushers, and disregarded their clear directives. Parents in the carpool line after Wednesday afternoon Torah School have been known to be impatient and inappropriate. Complaints or concerns get voiced to our professional and lay-leadership in un-mentschlikh and non-productive ways. Respectful and educational list-serv disagreements become personal and ad-hominem.

Perhaps, in these moments when we fall short on the chesed u’kavod scale, we are unconsciously acting out the stress and pain and anxiety and grief of recent weeks. Perhaps in our heads we’re back to an unexamined “business as usual”. Whatever the reason, lack of civility and respect are a blight on our community, and an impediment to our progress. Even as we combat terror and hate, we must also seek to counter indifference and thoughtlessness.

So please, think before sending that email. Take a breath before expressing your feelings or requests to staff or lay-leadership. Make peace with spending a couple extra minutes in the parking lot in the name of safety and fairness. Remember the social compact, the written as well as unarticulated principles of our community — and remember that though in covenantal communities we can’t always get exactly what we want, we all end up getting more than we could otherwise. Living out our values is perhaps the most helpful action we can take in these troubled times. Let’s continue to make chesed and kavod real in our community.

Rabbi Fred Scherlinder Dobb