Rabbi Charles P. Sherman
Robert Rubin Bar Mitzvah
October 12, 2002

For Jews, Which Is More Important -
How I Treat God or How I Treat My Neighbors?


In many synagogues you will find the Ten Commandments in one form or another - sometimes just the first word or two of each Commandment in Hebrew, sometimes in English translation. Of course, our synagogue is often known as the Temple of the Ten Commandments because of the imposing sculpture on the outside of our building.
In almost every Jewish prayer book you will find the Ten Commandments. Clergy in the Unites States military wear on their jackets or shirts a button to indicate that they are chaplains. Christians wear a cross; Jews wear the Ten Commandments. During that beautiful and moving service of Confirmation, at the end of tenth grade, two of our Confirmands each year will chant from the Torah the Ten Commandments. So, while many Jews today may not know the name of Moses' wife or how many children he had or even his sister's name, everyone knows that Moses brought down the Ten Commandments from Sinai.
The Commandments are arranged in two tablets; which form two groupings. The first four clearly deal with our relationship to God - I am Adonai your God, do not have any other gods beside me, do not take God's name in vain, remember the Sabbath day. The second group deals with Commandments of human being to human being - do not commit murder, do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not bear false witness, do not covet what is your neighbor's.
The category for Commandment Five is questionable. "Honor your father and mother". It is on the first tablet, but it sounds like a relationship between human beings. The rabbis, however, say NO. Father and mother represent God; they are God's partner in the creation of a new life; therefore, how we treat our parents should reflect what we believe about God. So, for Jews, the first five Commandments regulate human to God behavior and the second five human-to-human behavior.
Now, did you ever think about which is more important - the first five or the second five Commandments? Is our relationship to God or our relationship to our fellow human beings more important? Let me put it this way. For Jews, which is more essential - how I treat God or how I treat my neighbors? What is primary to the Jewish faith - what I believe concerning God, or what I do for my neighbors?
Unfortunately, the Ten Commandments do not answer that question and nowhere in our Bible is there a discussion of that particular question. Yet, that does not mean that our tradition does not offer answers. In fact, today's Torah portion relates two stories, which I believe, will enable us to answer that question from the Jewish perspective.
Robby read to us from the story of Noah and the ark. Our Bible tells us that Noah was "a righteous man in his generation," and there is all kinds of discussion in rabbinic literature about why it says "in his generation." Was Noah an upstanding person only compared to the people of his generation because they were so rotten? That is what most of the rabbis conclude. Mr. A was stealing from Mr. B; Mr. B. was having an affair with Mrs. C. Mr. D was taking drugs and Miss E was a prostitute. The whole population of Noah's time had gone astray. People did not get along with each other at all; violence was rampant. The Bible says God saw how great was man's wickedness on earth, how every plan devised by his mind was nothing but evil all the time, and God's heart was saddened. God said, I will blot out from the earth the people whom I created, for I regret that I made them. But Noah found favor with God. So God brought about a flood and I guess, at least for a while after the flood, things got better.
Yet, a few chapters later in this same Torah portion, the Bible tells us that there was more trouble. The people became restless and they said: "let us build a city and tower whose peak will be in the heavens." The rabbis interpret this story to mean that the people were afraid that God was going to again send a flood, so they decide that they will build this tower, which would be above the floodwaters. They also intended to invade the heavens and fight against God. So God interceded, and the people were punished.
But do you remember how they were punished? Not by destroying them, as God had done with the flood in Noah's days. This time God merely dispersed the people to the four corners of the globe - some God sent to Paris or London, others were shipped to Washington and Miami, still others were isolated in Berlin and Moscow, and finally some ended up in Muskogee, Okmulgee, Ponca City and Bartlesville.
I think that from these two stories we can determine what is most important to Judaism - our relationship to God or our relationship to our fellow human beings. What happened in the Noah story? People had bad relationships - violence, wickedness, murder, adultery, robbery. They were lying to each other and hating each other and hurting each other and, therefore, God said their punishment is going to be very severe. There will be a worldwide flood, total destruction; the world cannot exist when people cannot get along with each other. This is very bad.
But in the Tower of Babel story, what was the sin? They didn't believe God's promise to never again flood the earth, and so they wanted to invade the heavens; they were intent on battling with God, overpowering God, defeating and destroying God.
But what about their relationships with each other, with their fellow human beings? Well, first of all we are told that everybody spoke the same language; we might say, "They were on the same page." One worker handed the hammer to the other and then handed the nails to another; they passed the bricks person-to-person. They had to be cooperating with each other, working together - otherwise that huge structure never could have been built.
Therefore, the Bible tells us that when God punished them, God was lenient with them because they got along well with each other. Yes, they had a poor relationship with God - they didn't trust God; they wanted to invade the heavens and overpower God - but for this, God said I'll be less severe. The most important thing to me is my children, how these people get along with their neighbors and with themselves.
I believe we can learn from these stories that from a Jewish point of view, if we have to make a choice, we must say that our relationships with our fellow human beings are more important than our relationship with God. Doing things for human beings is primary, and even though belief in God is very important, it is secondary to how we act toward our neighbors.
I understand that our daughter religion, Christianity, teaches exactly the opposite. In Christianity, even though good deeds are very important, they are secondary to one's beliefs concerning God and Jesus. Paul says to the Ephesians (2:8-9): "For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, that no one should boast." In plain simple English Paul was saying: you can do all the good deeds in the world, feed all the hungry and clothe all the naked, cure all the sick and house all the homeless, support all the dejected and stop all the wars, but as long as you do not believe, as long as you do not accept Jesus as your Savior, you will not be saved. And the reason is obvious - belief is primary in Christianity; action is secondary.
However, in Judaism, Rabbi Shimon says in Pirke Avot (1:17), "Lo hamidrash eekar elah hama'aseh - works are number one, talk and beliefs are number two."
Psalm 15 instructs us "who shall sojourn in Your tent and who will dwell on Your holy mount? One who has no slander on his tongue and does no evil to a friend; one who works righteousness and speaks the truth; and one who honors those who respect God." For a Jew, gemeelut chesed, helping others, is mitzvah number one.
So we have two great religious traditions, which place their emphasis on different tablets of the Ten Commandments. Those of you who have studied with me over the years know that I believe interfaith dialogue is very important. I believe that the great religions of the world are different. For example, Judaism and Christianity have a number of central principles which are different. "Different" is not a judgmental term. I am not saying one is right and the other is wrong, one is superior and the other is inferior. I do not believe that. I believe we can learn from each other, if we honestly confront our differences and not try to paper them over or disguise or ignore them. True interfaith respect involves understanding where we are different and celebrating those differences.
We have an interesting family on the bima this morning. As Lance and Lesa know, their decision as to the religious rearing of their children would not have been my first choice. Yet, I will be the first to admit that they are doing it very well. Within the Rubin home two religions are practiced, and the differences between them are not disguised.
Robby has learned his Jewish lessons well. If you look at the program you received this morning, you can see where we Jews have placed our emphasis. Robby has prepared for this special life-cycle ceremony, where be becomes a son of the commandment, by mowing lawns in order to earn money so as to be able to buy the various food products which are the centerpieces on the tables in the next room at our luncheon, and all of which will be donated to the Broken Arrow Day Center where Robby Rubin also has donated, at least as importantly, his time and energy. Robby, as you heard me say, enrolled in the B'nai Tsedek Program; he decided to donate part of his monetary gifts to establish a charitable fund which will do good works in his name. I believe that is this young man's way of affirming the centrality of the second tablet of the Commandments, in good Jewish tradition.
A story is told about an old rabbi who lived on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. He spent the better part of his life in helping others. He would help find jobs for the unemployed, he would search for food for the hungry, he would obtain shelter for the homeless. He himself was a selfless man who lived over a grocery store. So that people could find him, there was a sign in front of the grocery store that said, "Rabbi Robinowitz is upstairs," and an arrow pointed in the direction people should go in order to meet with Rabbi Robinowitz. That is the way people would know how to find him.
Rabbi Robinowitz died at the age of 88. His wife had predeceased him by a number of years and they had no children. Therefore, Rabbi Robinowitz' funeral was a very simple one. Within the year, the members of his congregation decided that a tombstone had to placed upon the Rabbi's grave. Unfortunately, Rabbi Robinowitz had left no money for this chore, and his congregants were of very modest means. The synagogue, which he had served for so many years, had no money, and the members had no extra money to provide a tombstone. Yet everyone said, there should be a memorial plaque, some marking to know where Rabbi Robinowitz is buried. But no one had a solution.
Finally, one of the Rabbi's friends had an idea. He said to the others: "Next Sunday, go to the cemetery where Rabbi Robinowitz is buried. We will have the unveiling of his tombstone." Everyone asked: where are we going to get the money for the tombstone, how are we going to pay for it? But Rabbi Robinowitz' friend smiled and simply said: "Don't worry. You must have faith in God. Rabbi Robinowitz was an extra special person; God will not forsake him. Come out to the cemetery next Sunday and we'll have the unveiling."
The next Sunday, 25 elderly men and women from Rabbi Robinowitz' shul came to the cemetery and saw a sheet hanging over an object that was about three feet tall. Mr. Cohen, who had made the suggestion that everyone come to the cemetery, stood beside the tombstone and said to the people: "I am now going to remove this sheet and unveil the tombstone in memory of Rabbi Robinowitz. I can assure you that the inscription on this tombstone is most appropriate for our Rabbi."
With that, Mr. Cohen quickly removed the veil, and everyone saw the "tombstone". It was the very sign, which had been in front of the grocery store over which Rabbi Robinowitz had lived for so many years. It said "Rabbi Robinowitz is Upstairs," and the arrow pointed toward the heavens.
For Jews that sign was correct, because all his life Rabbi Robinowitz had done what God and Judaism had wanted of him - good works. He had helped his fellow human beings all the days of his life. He now was truly "upstairs" with God. Amen

In preparing this message, I have benefited from the writings of Rabbi Jack Segal;
I appreciate his inspiration.

Home