A few years ago, I took up rappelling, the art of descending sheer cliffs by rope and harness, so that we could explore the red-rock canyons of Southern Utah. After I had begun to learn the basics, Steve, our guide, said to me, “You’re one of those people who wants to speed up when your adrenaline starts to flow.”
Some things in life have to be earned, and some things cannot be. We can earn respect and reputation by our behavior, but sometimes we need help, or forgiveness, or just a break, that we haven’t earned and don’t deserve. And we can also give to others gifts they don’t deserve and don’t have to earn. That sort of undeserved kindness is captured by the word Hesed, often translated as lovingkindness.
The other day I had coffee with Hal, the father of one of our chavurah members. He had just written his second novel, this one based on his amazing experiences as a Jewish-American soldier fighting the Nazis in World War II. We got together to talk about his book.
One of the current terms of religious discussion that I’ve grown to suspect is “spirituality.” I’m tired of hearing people say, “I’m not religious; I’m spiritual,” which often means I don’t have any outward signs of religious or transcendent life, but, trust me, I possess many lofty sentiments.
Chesed or loving-kindness is an essential human attribute, but it’s first of all a divine attribute. If we want to cultivate chesed, we should pay attention to how Hashem exercises it. And God’s chesed is on display at the conclusion of the Haftarot of Comfort, the passages from Isaiah that we read during this period between Tisha B’av and Rosh Hashanah.
Have you ever been in on a conversation that started like this: “Can you keep a secret? I’m really not supposed to talk about this, but . . .” or “So-and-so made me promise not to tell anyone about this, but . . .”? This opening line is usually followed by an explanation of why it’s OK to not keep the secret, but to share the forbidden information with you, often in flattering terms.
When I was a kid, I joined the Boy Scouts. One of the first things you learn in the Boy Scout Creed, is that a scout is Trustworthy. Like most kids, it was just something we had to memorize to be a scout. As I have gotten older and somewhat wiser, I’ve come to appreciate the values scouting tried to impart to us.
In Judaism, it isn't so much about what you know, but what you do. Judaism is a doing religion, not bound up in the recesses of your mind in theology. True, we need some truths to operate by, but we don't spend our time crowning ourself with laurels because we have these truths. We are expected to act.
One of God’s greatest gifts to humanity is free will. That gift produces the opportunity to be creative, thoughtful, decisive, curious, and more. With free will we are given the privilege to partner with God. Any partnership requires mutual trust for it to be positive. Our human partnership with God is no exception.
Use these questions to evaluate your day:
Are you able to open your heart and trust others easily, or are you cynical?
Do past experiences make it impossible for you to trust others who may otherwise be very trustworthy?
Do you trust people too easily? Do you look at a person’s reputation and assess your ability to trust them with reliability?
Are there areas in your life where you can improve so that you may become more trustworthy and relied upon by others?
Do you have a shem tov (a good name)? Does this allow others to trust you? If not, what could you do to improve this?
What characteristics make you trustworthy? Seek to improve on one of those traits.
Do you have anyone who can vouch for your trustworthiness? Does your reputation proceed you and people give you responsibilities frequently? If not, why not?
