Rabbi Charles P. Sherman
March 11, 2005
Awards, Honors, Testimonials – The Dangers of Doing Good
Let me take you behind the scenes this evening. A few weeks ago one of my confirmation class students asked, as I am asked by several individuals every year, "where do you get the ideas for your sermons?" Mainly they come from life.
I was called recently and asked to accept a very prestigious community award this coming fall. It will be the sixth public recognition that I have been accorded. And then you read in the bulletin that for the second year in a row Urban Tulsa Magazine considered me one the "Top 100 Movers and Shakers" in Tulsa. I have given some thought to what all that means and whether I want to accept another accolade, because I have concerns about such awards and honors and testimonials.
The past several months I have been talking with people about their pledges to the Rebuilding the Temple Campaign. As we get ready to place names on the beautiful Abe Brand tapestry in our lobby – the names will be arranged in categories according to size of the donation – that project also causes me to think about gifts and fair-share giving.
And finally, I was looking at the beginning of Leviticus, which we Jews throughout the world will begin studying next week. In the first sedra, details of different kinds of sacrifices are given.
These sacrifices are to be brought for different occasions. The Torah tells us what a person would bring as a sin offering or as a thanksgiving offering or as a peace offering. It tells us what a person of means would bring, and what a poor person would bring.
The second verse of Leviticus has these words, which I have handed out to you. ADAM KEE YAKRIV MIKEM KORBAN LADONAI! It there, it is a cumbersome expression. The word MIKEM kind of sticks out in the middle of the sentence. It would have been much smoother had the text read: ADAM MIKEM KI YAKRIV KORBAN LADONAI. Why do we have this awkward order in the Torah text?
An early 19th century sage, Rabbi Mordecai Yosef Leiner of Izbica, who is known in our tradition as the Izbicer, offers this explanation. "This awkward order of the sentence in Leviticus comes to teach us that the one who offers a sacrifice to God should not think that by doing so he is thereby elevating himself over other people. But rather he should understand that through this act he is entering into a state of equality with all of Israel."
You see, if the verse read "if a person among you" or "one of you," brings an offering to God, it would be singling out this person from all others by noting the act of piety he does. But by calling him "a person who brings, from among you" – the text is saying that this person is only doing what any of his brothers could do. This person should therefore not feel different or special or arrogant; he is only doing that which anyone else could and should do.
Now if the Izbicer is right, there is an important lesson here which we all need to remember. This offering in Leviticus is a male without blemish from the herd or from the flock; this is a big gift, an impressive sacrifice. Now it is difficult for a person to make a large gift to the Temple, to bring an expensive offering without feeling that he is somehow more pious, more generous than other people are. How can you help not feeling that way? Look, I am the one among you who is making this big gift, this large donation – aren't you impressed?
And that is why the Izbicer reads the text to mean a person who gives is like you and not different from you. He is reminding us that there is only one small step between righteousness and self-righteousness. It is an almost irresistible temptation for a person who makes a substantial donation of some kind to say, or at least think, ‘look how generous and how pious I am.' It is terribly easy, my friends, to pervert an act of tsedakah, a religious obligation, into an act of self-elevation and superiority over others. How can one not help feeling pride when one does such a generous thing?
And organizations of all kinds and institutions – including synagogues – are sometimes guilty of encouraging this kind of excessive pride. We flatter and praise and call attention to those who give, both out of genuine gratitude for their generosity and in the hope of encouraging others to follow their example. But whenever we do this, we run the risk of corrupting these donors, of tempting them to become vain and to think that they are special and superior to others who may not be able to give as much as they can.
So this sedra deals first with a case of the donor who brings a sheep or a cow or an ox – big gifts – and then it goes on to deal with the rules for the donor who brings a bird or a cup of flour as his gift. Now obviously an ox or sheep or cow costs much more than a cup of flour, so it would be understandable if the donor of an animal felt that his gift was superior in the sight of God. To prevent such a misunderstanding, the section in Leviticus 1 that describes the gift of an animal and the section that describes the gift of a cup of flour both end with the exactly the same refrain – "its fragrance is pleasing to God."
The point of using the same words to describe the gift of the rich and the gift of the poor is so that we may realize that it is not the amount in itself that matters. If one has much and gives much, or if one has little and so gives little – both are equally pleasing in the sight of God. I hope you heard me right – I did not say if one has much and gives little. That is not pleasing to God.
But the larger lesson of this first chapter of Leviticus is not to minimize or denigrate the gifts of the rich; I am not suggesting, nor is the Izbicer, that those who give generously are vain people. I know many people who give generously of their means and who want no credit, recognition, or reward for their generosity. But I think that the Izbicer is right in warning them and in warning us of the spiritual risk, the risk to one's soul, that comes with gift giving. If we are not careful, then these awards, these testimonials, these citations can make us think that we are a cut above all other people and that, my friends, is a danger – the danger of doing good.
There is a whole profession today called "fund raisers" who often play to our very human desire for recognition. And so we have an ever expanding number of award dinners, luncheons, social extravaganzas. I am not pointing the finger at others; as I told you at the beginning, I am now becoming one of the "insiders", one of the recipients. And I want to be very careful that it does not tarnish my soul.
That is why I am fond of an essay written by a contemporary Conservative Rabbi, Emanuel Feldman. Spiritual leader for many years and now Rabbi Emeritus of Beth Jacob Synagogue in Atlanta, Feldman on occasion write satires. I would like to believe this one is addressed not so much to the donors in our midst as to the fund raisers. Let's listen to what Rabbi Feldman says.
"The season of the cluttered mailbox is upon us. Invitations to the annual banquets of the Jewish federations, the synagogues, the yeshivot, the seminaries, the hospitals, the defense agencies and every other worthy Jewish cause all come in the mail almost every day at this time of year.
"One thing is common in all of them: namely – The Award. A banquet without a guest of honor is like a banquet without food and as with food, the more awards the better. One major yeshiva awarded TWELVE plaques to honorees at its last banquet!
"The names of these awards demonstrate the verbal inflation that is taking place nowadays. It used to be that an awardee was called ‘The Man of the Year.' Now any one who was offered such a plain vanilla award as ‘man of the year' would be offended. So bloated have the accolades become that we are beginning to see awards such as: ‘The Holiest Man and Woman of the Decade Award' or ‘The Most Godly Person of the Century Award' or ‘The Ultimate Jewish Hero of All Time Award' or ‘The Greatest Jew Who Ever Lived Award'.
"We understand that one of our prominent national Jewish organizations trumped all the others by announcing that at its banquet this year it will be giving out ‘The Man and Woman of God Award' AND ‘The Courageous Fighter Against Evil Award' AND ‘The Greatest Person of the Millennium Award' – all at the same banquet! You can just hear the fundraisers of all the other organizations gnashing their teeth that these titles have been grabbed up and copyrighted before they had a chance to use them.
"The competition on the banquet circuit nowadays is fierce. The Program Chair of the International Organization of the world's Greatest Jewish Charities became so obsessed with the idea of running the most prestigious banquet of them all that, after having already given awards to the President of the United States, the Prime Minister of Israel and the Secretary General of the Untied Nations and had each of them as guest speakers, he fantasized about inviting The Supreme Guest Speaker of them all to his next banquet. The planning committee turned the idea down when they realized that they could not think of an appropriate award to give to God. To paraphrase an old slogan: what do you give to the God who has everything?
"But it was the President of the International Organization of the World's Even Greater Jewish Charities who came up with the idea for how to have the most successful banquet of them all, one that would outdo every other organization's dinner. He proposed that EVERY SINGLE MAN AND WOMAN who attended their annual banquet should receive a special award. Not just a favor or a souvenir but a personally inscribed plaque.
"When the idea was first proposed at a planning committee meeting, I. M. Shuldig, who was last year's Man of the Century Awardee objected. He said that there was no question that it would bring a large crowd, but he raised a logistical question: how are you going to fit 700 people on one dais?
"That nearly defeated the idea but Sam Finster, the winner of the Prophet Isaiah Visionary Award two years ago came up with a solution. He said: you don't have a dais big enough? No problem. Just turn the whole ballroom into a dais, and that will do it.
"And so the idea was adopted. And now there are 700 awardees who proudly show the plaques they received at that banquet to anyone and everyone who comes to visit. None of them ever mention that there were 699 other people who got the same award the same night. They seem to have forgotten that minor detail.
"But there was one hitch. There was one honoree, a man named Samuel Cohen, who could not sleep that night. He kept thinking: I was honored in the presence of 699 of my peers. People said some very generous words of tribute about me. They called me: ‘the saint of the century' and they presented me with a beautiful mahogany plaque. I should be pleased and happy, and yet, for some reason, I don't know why, I don't feel happy.
"Then Sam figured it out: if everyone is honored, then no one is really honored. If everyone is exceptional, then no one is really exceptional. And so the next morning Sam went into the office of the International Congress of the Most Important Jewish Charities and returned his plaque. The staff tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted. He put it on the president's desk and walked out.
"When word got out of what Sam Cohen had done, the other honorees felt diminished. Here was a man who evidently felt so proud, so successful, so well thought of, and so self-confident, that he could live without a plaque. He evidently felt that he didn't need it, that his good deeds spoke for themselves. The 699 awardees did not want to be outclassed by Sam Cohen, and so they all did what he did. To show how proud and how successful and so well thought of and so self-confident AND SO MODEST they all were, they marched into the office of the International Congress of the Most Important Jewish Charities and returned their plaques.
"And when that happened, chaos descended upon the organized Jewish community. From all around the country reports began coming in of more and more people refusing awards, because they wanted to be thought of as humble and modest. The International Congress of the Most Important Jewish Charities and the International Congress of the World's Even More Important Jewish Charities met together in emergency session. They understood that the future of Jewish philanthropy was at stake and that something had to be done at once.
"After twelve hours of deliberation, the two organizations came up with a solution. At first, they considered merging their two organizations, but they decided that the situation was not THAT drastic. After all, if they merged the two organizations then there would be one less president, one less board of directors, one less staff, and one less national headquarters, and no one was prepared to vote for something that drastic.
What they decided instead was that the number of awards had to be greatly reduced so that each award would have significance. A NON PROLIFERATION AGREEMENT was signed in which every single Jewish organization in the country – every hospital, every seminary, every defense agency, every single Jewish organization – agreed to voluntarily reduce the number of awards that it would give out each year. The organizations understood that they could not institute such a radical change suddenly, so they all agreed that they would phase out the number of awards that they gave out over a period of years.
"The plaque manufacturers and the mahogany tree growers were upset, and they threatened to stop making donations to the national Jewish organizations, but the Congresses held firm. They understood that it was better to lose the donations that came from the plaque manufacturers and the mahogany tree industry than it was to offend tens of thousands of Jews. And so they all agreed to cut down the number of awardees to three per banquet by the year 2056.
"Then the International Congress of the World's Greatest Jewish Charities did it again! Without clearing with any of their rivals, they went ahead and announced that their next annual dinner would be different from all others in that it would have NO; yes I said no honorees! None at all! The chairman of the organization called a press conference to announce this radical change and said: ‘We live in difficult times, and therefore we need bold and imaginative innovations. We realize that a banquet like this has never been done before in all of Jewish history, but we are going to sponsor the first-ever No Awards Banquet as our contribution to Jewish life.'
"And sure enough, the first-ever No Awards Banquet was an affair to remember. It quickly became the talk of the nation. Soon all the other organizations in Jewish life were doing the same thing. Some scholars even came up with the theory that the fundraising banquets at which the money was raised for the building of the First Holy Temple in the time of King Solomon may have also used this same technique of a No Awards Banquet, but this theory has not yet been substantiated. But either way, the No Awards Banquet became an instant success. Those who were on diets even begin to hint that the next step should be a No Enormous Amount of Food Banquet, but this idea has so far been considered too radical an innovation, even in this time of crisis.
"There was only one minor problem that still had to be worked out. Now that there were no awards, what should be done to fill up the time at these banquets that had until now been spent on glowing speeches of praise? People could not simply eat, write checks and go home, could they?
"Then the rival organization: The International Congress of Even More Important Jewish Charities came up with an answer to this problem of what to do with the empty time at the banquets now that there were no speeches of tribute to the awardees.
"They decided to spend the time that used to be spent on speeches of tribute in study of Torah. At each dinner they passed out sheets and studied the wisdom of the Jewish tradition. Sometimes they even invited the person who would have been the awardee to study up and teach the lesson at the banquet. Within a couple of years, the people who came to the banquet had absorbed much less food than they used to and had absorbed much more Jewish wisdom than they had before.
"As a result, Jewish organizational life has been totally transformed. As much or even more money as before is still donated. The community now knows more and cares more about Jewish values than it ever did before. The only people who have lost out are the plaque manufacturers and the mahogany tree growers; but hey, you can't please everybody, can you?"
Rabbi Feldman is only partly kidding, of course. In his own humorous way he is saying the same thing that the Izbicer was saying is his serious way, which is that those who are generous deserve our praise, our thanks, our admiration; but, we have an obligation not to spoil them or corrupt them, not to tempt them into ruining the mitzot they do through of arrogance. Their task is to give, our task is to thank them and be grateful to them, and both they and we have the responsibility of being careful that their righteousness is not allowed to descend into self-righteousness.
Rabbi Jack Riemer, from whom I regularly learn so much, shares a Chassidic tradition that interprets a strange phrase in the Hashkivenu Prayer which says: "protect us from the Satan who is before us and who is behind us." What does that mean? Why do we think of Satan, the Tempter, as being both in front of us and also behind us?
The Chassidic rebbe explains it this way. First, before we do a mitzvah, Satan stands before us and does his best to talk us out of it. He says: "Why bother? Why do it today? Why not put it off until tomorrow? "Why not let someone else do it?" etc., etc. And then if we overcome the Tempter and we disregard all those arguments that he makes and we do the mitzvah, then Satan comes up behind us, pats us on the back and says: "What a great person you are." And that is as dangerous a temptation as is the temptation not to do a mitzvah.
So, my friends, let us all be on guard. Let us do good because it is the right thing to do. And let us be careful not to be corrupted by false pride or by arrogance or by a sense of superiority over others when we do the good. Let us remember the words of the Izbicer, ADAM KEE YAKRIV MIKEM, when one of you does a good deed, that person is still just one of you, just like all the others. He may be the one who has done a very good deed today. But that should not make him feel that he is a cut above everyone else. For if he does feel that way, then the mitzvah that he has done is partially spoiled. It may still help others, it may still help the institution, the agency, the synagogue – but it may sully his own soul and that would be sad. So let us strive to do good, to be generous for good reasons and not let ourselves be spoiled by the good deeds that we do. Amen
I am indebted to Rabbi Jack Riemer for much of the wisdom of this message.
ADAM KEE YAKRIV MIKEM KORBAN LADONAI
When a person who brings, from among you, an offering to Adonai . . . Leviticus 1:2
[ ADAM MIKEM, KI YAKRIV KORBAN LADONAI - If one of you brings a sacrifice to Adonai . . .]
Mordecai Yosef Leiner of Izbica (early 19th century sage)
IZBICER
"This awkward order of the sentence in Leviticus comes to teach us that the one who offers a sacrifice to God should not think that by doing so he is thereby elevating himself over other people. But rather he should understand that through this act he is entering into a state of equal with all of Israel."
"its fragrance is pleasing to God"
Leviticus 1:9 and 17
