Parshat Bo - 5780 "Contemplating Kobe"

Contemplating Kobe

Parshat Bo - 5780

Rabbi Shaanan Gelman with Rabbi Ariel Rackovsky 

In an age of super-bugs and drug-resistant illnesses, the Coronavirus reminds us that there are still plagues in this world, for which there is no immunity, no matter who you are. For similar reasons, the ultimate and final plague recorded in this week’s Torah reading, the death of the first born, must have cut particularly deep for פרעה. During previous plagues, he enjoyed immunity, luxuriating in good health while the rest of Egypt suffered. For the first time, death crept underneath his own doorway. The plague of the first born- the plague of death- was the great equalizer:

מִבְּכ֤וֹר פַּרְעֹה֙ הַיֹּשֵׁ֣ב עַל־ כִּסְא֔וֹ עַ֚ד בְּכ֣וֹר הַשִּׁפְחָ֔ה אֲשֶׁ֖ר אַחַ֣ר הָרֵחָ֑יִם

It spread across socioeconomic classes with no regard for status and renown. There is a limit to the far-reaching benefits of wealth and fame. It can pay off those who accuse you of assault so you can settle the case out of court. It can pay for the most talented agents to curate your reputation after the incident. Money can buy you a state-of-the-art helicopter, so you don’t have to suffer LA traffic like commoners. But no amount of money, prestige or protektzia can hold back the מלאך המות.

When we find out that even a פרעה is vulnerable, and when a celebrity is struck, or when “superman” is brought to his knees - we feel it because it means that the myth of invincibility has been shattered. This week the world was reminded of its fragility, it is a disruptor that causes a sensitive person to contemplate life and how it should be lived.

At the outset it must be acknowledged that what happened to Kobe Bryant and his fellow passengers (including his young daughter Gianna and other children) is tragic beyond belief. Nobody should have to go through what the families of those killed in such an accident are enduring.  Nonetheless, the public’s reaction in the case of the highest profile passenger, arguably one of the greatest athletes of the modern era, is one which bears a moment of honest reflection on our part. There is no question that Bryant was a generous mentor to many young players, and a proud and loving father- and most people deserve better than to be judged by their worst mistakes. Yet with his tragic passing, we have witnessed crying in the streets, tear-filled memorials on talk shows even from teammates who despised Bryant when he was still alive, and obsession over things like his final tweet. It leaves us wondering how we should navigate the passing of someone like him. Fortunately, our tradition provides us with ample tools to do so. What is the appropriate way for us to reflect upon life at its end?

The Talmud in Berachos (16b), the Daf Yomi about a week and a half ago, features a surprisingly harsh statement about delivering a eulogy:

תלמוד בבלי מסכת ברכות דף טז עמוד ב

תניא אידך: עבדים ושפחות אין מספידין אותן; רבי יוסי אומר: אם עבד כשר הוא, אומרים עליו: הוי איש טוב ונאמן ונהנה מיגיעו! אמרו לו: אם כן, מה הנחת לכשרים?

One does not eulogize servants and maids.  According to Rabbi Yosei, if he was a virtuous individual, we say about him, “Woe upon the passing of a decent and faithful man, who enjoyed the fruits of his own labor!”  The Rabbis however took issue with R’ Yosei’s generous words - “If we eulogize a slave in such a fashion, we will have left nothing to be said about the truly upstanding members of society!”

At first glance, the Rabbis’ response would seem callous and unduly harsh. Why can’t we say something nice about this poor fellow upon his passing? And let’s be honest. What’s so exaggerated about this short sentence? We’ve all heard over-the-top eulogies that were filled with hyperbole and outright lies. I’m reminded of the classic Alan King routine about his Uncle Yoil, “the stupidest person he’d ever met”. He described the young Rabbi he hired to officiate the funeral after Uncle Yoil’s children couldn’t be bothered. As he put it,

“Rabbi Chuck did for Uncle Yoil in one hour what Uncle Yoil couldn’t do in 104 years. ‘A student of the Talmud; a son of the Torah. A man who asked the big questions…”

This seems like basic funeral etiquette. As the adage goes, Acharei Mot, Kedoshim- after death, everyone is holy, and you never speak ill of the dead. Yet a look at the Shulchan Aruch indicates that we are enjoined from engaging in this very practice.

שולחן ערוך יורה דעה הלכות אבילות סימן שמד

סעיף א

מצוה גדולה להספיד על המת כראוי. ומצותו שירים קולו לומר עליו דברים המשברים את הלב, א כדי להרבות בכיה ולהזכיר שבחו. א] ואסור להפליג בשבחו יותר מדאי, אלא מזכירין מדות טובות שבו, <א> ומוסיפין בהם קצת, רק שלא יפליג. ואם לא היו בו מדות טובות כלל, לא יזכיר עליו. וחכם וחסיד, מזכירים להם חכמתם וחסידותם. וכל המזכיר על מי שלא היה בו כלל, או שמוסיף להפליג יותר מדאי על מה שהיה בו, גורם רעה לעצמו ולמת.

You not allowed to attribute character traits a person did not possess and are only permitted to slightly exaggerate the positive ones a person did.

What were the rabbis saying when they exclaimed “If so, you have left nothing over for the righteous!” ? 

Perhaps the message is that it's easy to shed a tear, but more powerful than exaggerated praises for the undeserving are understated praises for those who deserve so much more.  How will future generations ever grasp the definition of gadlut if we don't distinguish it from mediocrity?  For this reason, a hesped used to be considered a form of Torah and mussar of the highest order, an art form in which true wisdom and sermonic brilliance could be revealed. Consider the fact that among the most celebrated drashot of Rav Soloveitchik were the eulogy he delivered for his uncle, the Brisker Rav entitled “מה דודך מדוד”, and his hesped for his makhataynisteh the Tolner Rebbetzin.  Fittingly, Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm, who in his own time, a legendary maspid, prefaced his eulogy for his revered teacher by stating:

“The only person who could truly be maspid the Rav, was the Rav himself!”

When we exaggerate our tears, when we confuse the tragic circumstances of death with the quality of life they lived - then

אם כן, מה הנחת לכשרים?

We have left nothing to be said about the great people who are no longer with us- for Gedolei Torah, for people who cure diseases, for those who fight for the oppressed and downtrodden.

We are not always asked to be as circumspect with our words. At a more optimistic juncture in life - the wedding - the Gemara weighs in once again on the propriety of exaggerated praise:

תלמוד בבלי מסכת כתובות דף טז עמוד ב - דף יז עמוד א

תנו רבנן: כיצד מרקדין לפני הכלה? בית שמאי אומרים: כלה כמות שהיא, ובית הלל אומרים: כלה נאה וחסודה. אמרו להן ב"ש לב"ה: הרי שהיתה חיגרת או סומא, אומרי' לה, כלה נאה וחסודה? והתורה אמרה: מדבר שקר תרחק! אמרו להם ב"ה לב"ש: לדבריכם, מי שלקח מקח רע מן השוק, ישבחנו בעיניו או יגננו בעיניו? הוי אומר: ישבחנו בעיניו, מכאן אמרו חכמים: לעולם תהא דעתו של אדם מעורבת עם הבריות.

Beit Hillel and Shamai argue about the appropriate praise for a new bride.  Shamai - ever the advocate for honesty, even when brutal, adjures us to be careful with גוזמא, only describing the bride with the virtues she truly possesses (and never exaggerating even those) - כלה כמות שהיא. You can imagine, according to Beit Shammai, that the appropriate compliment might be, “Beautiful is not the word!” or “Breathtaking!” Whereas Hillel, the compassionate and generous one, provides us with a boilerplate form of praise which may be heaped onto each of our brides - כלה נאה וחסודה.

In this world, we follow the opinion of Beis Hillel, for what kind of heartless person should be relentlessly honest about a young bride’s appearance or character!? But after this lifetime, we hold like Shamai in other words, and we only receive the compliments which we have earned.

It occurs to me that we have gotten this backwards. When someone leaves us for the next world, we have no problem with stretching the facts well beyond reality.   But in this world, when we hear praise, we assume that it is nothing more than obsequious flattery coming from a modern-day Eddie Haskell. It has become a cliché that the only time a person will hear their own eulogy is when they are being honored at a tribute dinner.  We are far too reticent with healthy compliments and praise to the living, withholding positive feedback and hakarat hatov lest their egos become inflated, or perhaps because we are simply overcome with jealousy.  Rabbinic tradition preaches the exact opposite. 

Let us rectify this by practicing generosity and kindness with our words in this world, and let’s live the lives which earn us the high praise of Rabbi Yosei- הוי איש טוב ונאמן ונהנה מיגיעו after 120 years.