Yiheh Tov vs. Yihyeh bSeder. Ani mabit me’hachalon, v’zeh oseh li dei atzuv – I look out the window, and it makes me oh so sad. So opens David Broza’s classic song, Yihyeh Tov. Its title is its refrain, “yihyeh tov, it’ll be good, yihyeh tov ken, yes, it will be good.” And that’s our topic today – the situation, however sad it makes us; the hope that it’ll yet be good; the between-point, yihyeh b’seder, it’ll be OK; and the one sure step that can help.
To be clear, I don’t mean that every situation will be good. Stage-4 cancer is not good, and no well-intentioned efforts to find some bright spot can make “yihyeh tov” apply here. Atmospheric carbon dioxide surging past where scientists believe calamitous impacts begin: simply not good. This sermon tackles situations like what Israelis call “the situation,” hamatzav – a very bad scene, born of an impasse. And in truth, we all face problematic, disturbing, often overwhelming and seemingly intractable impasses, all the time.
We face impasses, interpersonally – in family life, at work, even at shul. The worst are in the family. A lucky few of us have consistently loving and supportive families, but from my privileged pastoral perch, trust me: more often than not dysfunction and poor communication, lack of apologies and lack of forgiveness, disconnection and even estrangement nest somewhere within our family trees. How sadly common are the uncles who haven’t spoken in years, like Lou Jacobi’s perennially late Gabriel in Barry Levinson’s “Avalon”, and brother Sam (Armin Mueller-Stahl) who didn’t want to wait to start Thanksgiving dinner – upon belated arrival, Gabe can only stammer out in disbelief, “you cut the turkey without me?!” – and that’s it, forever.
Surely we can do better than ‘turkey’ as the last word we say to a loved one – but sometimes it takes the courage of civility, alongside the courage of one’s convictions, to reach out, break the cycle of recriminations, and drag the relationship (if kicking and screaming) back to a healthier place. We have to see the relationship through. Talmudic Rabbi Hiyya bar Abba said [Kiddushin 30b]: “If a father and son or teacher and student, who are studying Torah in one place, become enemies to one another, they should not move from there, until their love for one another is restored.”
And then there’s our national family of 308 million, and its elected reps on Capitol Hill. This season’s budget impasse – gevalt! -- folks staying in their own narrow corners, so convinced of the rightness of their position (or of its political value), that the larger public interest gets overlooked. So, unable to reach out to find reasonable middle ground, our formal credit rating (and informal standing in world opinion) get downgraded. We claw toward one stopgap after another, while the vitriol and finger-pointing continue.
In more generous moments I compare today’s Republicans and Democrats, and often compare Jefferson and Hamilton, to the great zug or ‘couple’ 2000 years ago and the schools that bore their names: Hillel, and Shammai. At their best these are important, holy debates, sofah l’hitkayem [Avot 5:19], ‘in the end, they’ll endure’. The Talmud [Eruvin 13b] famously records their intense values-driven debates, including when the Holy One Herself must intervene, saying “Eilu v’eilu divrei Elohim chayim hen, these AND these are the words of the Living God.” We learn one lesson on civility from the rest of God’s response – yes both views are holy, but you gotta know whose version of the law to follow, so, quote, “the Halacha goes according to Hillel.” Why? Because the students of Hillel were gentle and humble, sharing the words of the House of Shammai before making their own points. In this regard, let us strive to be disciples of Hillel.
In this season, as we try to right wrongs in our relationships and our world, how do we handle impasses, chicken-and-egg problems, where it’s hard to say who wronged whom first, or worst? There are many costs associated with compromise – costs to one’s ego, one’s goals, in the short term at least to one’s stature, particularly among the ‘party faithful’. But the costs of pursing your whole agenda in isolation, often, eventually reach a far greater sum. When both parties seek to ‘go it alone’, and civility breaks down and with it the hope of compromise, everyone loses. As angry or sad as you may be from your partisan place, often you’re more tempted to check out entirely – you can’t imagine how it’s ever going to get better. The prestige of the institution, its potential reach – whether a family, or nation – suffers. And as the relationships which comprise that institution wither, the individuals behind those relationships are bereft. Group paralysis paralyzes the people, too.
The ancient Tosefta [Sotah 7:12] draws its civics lesson from the intro to the Ten Commandments, “And God spoke all these words” (Exodus 20:1) – “One might say to oneself, ‘Since the House of Shammai says ‘impure’ and the House of Hillel says ‘pure,’ one prohibits and one permits, why should I continue to learn Torah?’ Therefore the Torah says, “And God spoke all these words.” All these words were given by a single Shepherd…. Therefore make your heart into a many-chambered room, and bring into it both the words of the House of Shammai and the words of the House of Hillel, both the words of those who forbid and the words of those who permit.” To uphold the whole enterprise – Torah, democracy, family – find room in your heart for both sides.
To overcome impasses we need courage of civility,1 coupled with courage of conviction. And, a third element: resilience, irrespective of the outcome. We must believe that basof, in the end, yihyeh tov, it will be good. Or at least, as the other expression goes, yihyeh b’seder, it’ll be OK.
With all that said, I opened with David Broza for a reason. He and Yonatan Gefen wrote “Yihyeh Tov” late in 1977, just before Camp David -- when a democratic president some found antagonistic to Israel, a hard-right Likud prime minister, and a long-implacable Arab enemy leader with Israeli blood on his hands would shake hands, forge a deal, and create a cold but real peace to endure for a generation. Today’s players seem reminiscent, yet a deal seems farther away than ever.
We can’t talk about impasses, or civility, or reference ha-matzav / the situation, without discussing Israel.
Before I begin, a word for those with pretty firm convictions about the peace process (or absence thereof): Here’s how you’ll feel after this talk. Those on the far left will be disappointed; I gave too much credence to the mainstream Zionist narrative that animates the current intransigent government of Israel. Those in and near the center-left will be satisfied, but smarting over how this or that was phrased. And those at, and right of, center, will be more than disappointed that I shared the Palestinian narrative, any legitimation of which is dangerous at today’s critical juncture. And you know what? Rabbi Fred agrees with the lot of you. All these critiques are true. Eilu v’eilu, “these and these are the words of the living God.” Which is why today we focus on HOW we discuss Israel, not WHAT we think.
Even then, it’s not easy. Politics intrude; and the following case study necessarily outs me. Please take from it not my advocacy of any one position, but advocacy of maintaining open minds, and open lines of communication. Here’s the story: this past year, at a Jewish service group’s gala event, I was seated next to an old acquaintance. After some polite schmoozing, he said “you know I don’t do small talk. Let me ask you the real question: where do you stand on J Street?” My answer: “I’m a supporter. I think their basic approach, ‘pro-Israel and pro-peace’, is right for lovers of Israel, and it’s what will earn us the friends we need.” His response: “Well then, you know, I have nothing to say to you. They’re dangerous, you’re with them; I have nothing to say.” With that, he literally turned his back, turned his chair. And he was good to his word: not one more word, all evening.
Who doesn’t want a golem on their side, a giant clay automaton to defend us, even attack the others, and do our bidding? AIPAC wants a golem, J Street wants a golem; the ZOA, Jewish Voice for Peace, want golems. In Israel, Likud, Labor, Kadima, Shas, all want a golem – and I hear that Yisrael Beitinu is building one right now! In the region, Israel wants a golem, Palestine wants a golem, Gaza wants Palestine’s golem plus its own; Iran is close to enriching the raw materials for a golem. Supposedly the first golem was brought to life four hundred years ago, in the Jewish quarter of Prague, by Rabbi Judah Loew, the Maharal. And supposedly, once his creation exacerbated rather than solved their troubles, he quickly destroyed the prototype. This is in the realm of speculation. But we do know that the Maharal wrote the Be’er HaGolah, including this passage (7):
“For the love of inquiry and knowledge, it is advisable that one not reject what contradicts one’s view. This holds especially true for [an interlocutor] who does not intend to provoke but to honestly declare his beliefs. Even if these are counter to our beliefs and our religion, it is not proper to say to him, 'Speak not, say nothing,' for by doing so there will result no clarification of beliefs. On the contrary, one should say, 'speak up as much as you wish.’ Such is the proper manner in which to establish the truth: to hear their arguments (which they hold in truth, not merely to provoke). Therefore it is not right to dismiss the words of one's opponent; [rather] draw him close and look carefully into his words.”
My acquaintance and seatmate at the gala, in his otherwise commendable love for Israel, closed the door. All door-closings – which happen on the left, right, and center; we can all be guilty here – do ultimate disservice to our larger goals.
For the record, I do not equate all narratives. My heart and gut remain firmly with Israel. Davka because I love Israel, I’m so incensed when it fails lalechet b’darkhei shalom v’tzedek, to walk in the ways of peace and justice. And yes, it can be hard to be civil, hard to believe that ‘yihyeh tov it’ll be good’, or even ‘yihyeh b’sder it’ll be OK’, when the matzav is so dire.
Yihyeh tov? It’s lo tov, not good, that the world treats Israel ever more as pariah. And not good that Israel’s leadership exacerbates things with a narrative that ‘they’re all out to get us.’ It’s not good that Israeli citizens still live under constant threat of terror; and not good that West Bank Palestinians endure continued occupation. It’s not good that Iran gets closer to nuclear weapons while its supreme leader spouts the most vile anti-Semitism and anti-Israel statements; it’s not good that Israel feeds fodder to extremist enemies with Gazan blockades and West Bank checkpoints. New and expanded settlements – not good. Katushas – not good. Haredi rabbis writing a psak din that one may murder children of the enemy deemed likely to grow up to become enemies – insular Islamist clerics issuing fatwas in favor of terrorism – It’s not good that there’s so much not good that right now I can only say v’chuleh v’chuleh, etc etc…
V’ – AND/BUT: ani ma’amin, I believe, I must believe, that yihyeh b’seder, it will be OK -- ***IF*** we figure out how to talk with each other, within and across communities. It won’t be great -- neither side, and no one, will get all they want. And it seems many more must suffer, and yes die, before the sheer inevitability of co-existence, and of compromises needed to get there, dawn on the key players –including today’s hard-right government, and hard-hearts of Hamas.
But if we figure out how to talk, first within a community and then between, then yes ‘yihyeh b’seder’, it will be OK. Already some Orthodox rabbis, and some extremist Imams, have used tradition to forbid incitement and terror. Already nationalist leaders, former hawks, have traded the sword for the pen, and plowshare. Already non-violent advocates of human rights and political compromise, Israeli and Palestinian (including even local Hamas leaders in villages like Budrus), have linked arms and voices. This is today’s “ha’tikvah”, the hope. And you may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. I hope someday you’ll join us dreamers – Herzl, Ben-Gurion, Szold, Buber, Livni, Yakhimovich – that im tirtzu ein zo agadah, if you will it it is no dream, l’hi’yot am chofshi b’artzeinu, to be a free people in our land, l’shalom, in peace, …im ha’acherim, alongside other free people who share righteous claims to the land. Is there any choice?
Once, to get there, it took just courage of convictions. Now we need equally the courage to hear and absorb other perspectives, to lift up opposing narratives, to realize that eilu v’eilu, these and these are holy. And again, we need resilience, irrespective of outcome.
An Israeli voice: additions to our Avinu Malkeinu prayer, (excerpted) from a column this Monday in Ha’aretz, by Bradley Burston2:
Avinu Malkeinu, Shma Koleinu, Hus V'Rahem Aleinu. Hear our voice. Help us hear the voices of others whose stories and tragedies are different. Help them to hear ours.
Avinu Malkeinu, have pity for what we do and are and try and fail at, and what we give ourselves too much credit for. Give us permission to start again. Give us, this day, a break.
Avinu Malkeinu, haneinu v'aneinu, ki ein lanu ma'asim. Avinu Malkeinu…. help us find, at long last, an answer we can use, a way out of this, even though we have nothing to show for all our trying. Because we have nothing to show for all our trying.…
God who created human differences and human disagreement and human compromise, help us write a new document for every one of us. A Book of Life. Show us Your face in the faces of the people we find it easier to look away from and call enemy. Show them Your face in ours. For the same reason. Show us what we least want to see: That we look the same.
Can we make things good? Not always. But we can practice acceptance, equanimity, resilience, such that we’ll be OK with (or despite) whatever comes – knowing we’ve tried our best toward an outcome that everyone can live with – an outcome within which everyone can live. In Israel; in Washington; in our families. Yihyeh tov? Maybe not. But let’s commit to ongoing engagement, and respectful open-minded discourse, as the best way to increase the odds that yes, yihyeh b’seder.
May all be b’seder – and much of it tov – in every aspect of our lives, in 5772 and beyond. Shanah tovah.