Rabbi Charles P. Sherman
Teacher Appreciation Shabbat
Shabbat Yitro
January 28, 2005
You Mustn’t Quit
This is a famous story about Rabbi Akiba, who lived approximately 1850 years ago. Akiba had a habit that, regardless of what happened to him, he would say: "Kol mah she-oseh ha-kadosh baruch hu, hakol l’tovah." Whatever God does, it is for the good."
If Rabbi Akiba had money, he would say: "hakol l’tovah" – everything is for the good. If he lost money, he would say: "hakol l’tovah" – everything is for the good. If he had a job, he would say: "hakol l’tovah" – this is for the good. And even if he was unemployed, he would say: "hakol l’tovah" – this too is for the good. Whatever happened to Rabbi Akiba, he would always say: "hakol l’tovah."
According to the Talmud, one day Rabbi Akiba was traveling in the Holy Land from one city to another. Of course we understand there were no airplanes, trains, buses or cars in the second century. He, therefore, traveled by donkey, and there were very few inns or motels in which to lodge overnight. So in addition to his donkey, Rabbi Akiba took along a rooster, which would serve as his alarm clock, to wake him up in the morning. And he took along a candle, so that he would be able to read at night.
One day, as the sun was setting, Rabbi Akiba came to a small city which had only one inn. When he attempted to rent a room, the manager said to him: we don’t admit Jews here – get out! Rabbi Akiba left quickly, but he said – as usual: "hakol l’tovah" – this, too, is for the good.
That evening Rabbi Akiba camped out in the fields about a mile from the city. It was cold; in fact, it was freezing cold. Yet he continued to say "hakol l’tovah" – this, too, is for the good. So he lit his candle with his last match, tied his rooster to one tree and his donkey to another tree, and attempted to read, to study. About 10PM a strong wind blew out his candle, but Akiba said "hakol l’tovah" – this, too, is for the good. About 11PM, a large cat came by and ate his rooster. Once again, Rabbi Akiba said: "hakol l’tovah" – this, too, is for the good. About 2AM, a mountain lion came by and ate his donkey. Once again, Rabbi Akiba said: "hakol l’tovah" – this, too, is for the good.
The next morning, Rabbi Akiba was freezing cold. He said to himself: "I’ll go back to the inn. Maybe this time they will at least sell me a hot cup of tea. I’ll tell them I’ll drink it outside." However, when Rabbi Akiba went back to the inn, he saw that it was completely burned down. All that was left were smoldering embers. The manager and the guests at the inn were being treated by the doctor for black eyes, bruises, broken bones – it looked almost as if a terrible hurricane or tornado had hit the inn the previous evening.
"What happened here?" Rabbi Akiba asked. The manager sadly replied, "Last night a band of hoodlums raided my inn, stole the money, beat up all the guests and the workers, they almost killed us. Then they burned down my inn."
Rabbi Akiba said to himself: "I was right. "hakol l’tovah" – whatever happened to me the previous evening was for the good. It was good the manager did not give me a room in his inn. And if the wind had not blown out my candle, the hoodlums would have seen the light of the candle and hurt me badly. And if the cat had not eaten the rooster, the hoodlums would have heard that rooster go cock-a-doodle-do and badly hurt me. And if the mountain lion had not eaten the donkey, the hoodlums would have heard the donkey braying and they might have even killed me. Hakol l’tovah – everything which seemed to be for the bad, in the long run was for the good.
My friends, Rabbi Akiba was truly unique – he always looked for the roses, not the thorns. He always searched for the rays of sunshine, not the dark clouds of the storm. Optimism was his key word; pessimism was not even in his dictionary. Rabbi Akiba truly believed that "after the darkest night, the sun always rises." He felt that even when the chips were down, never give in.
There is a story told about a little boy who once was leading his sister up a mountain path. The little girl complained to her brother: "This is not a path! It is all rocky and bumpy."
Her brother smiled at her and said: "You are right. But the bumps are what you climb on."
My dear colleagues, teachers whom we thank and honor tonight, that is what I hope you will teach our children – along with math and music, science and history; bumps of life are what you climb on. Just as Moses taught the Children of Israel – his pupils, his charges, – "be not afraid." (Exodus 20:17)
I like poetry. Sometimes it is not the great poems which teach us the most important lessons, but a little poem, such as this one called "Don’t Quit." I believe it is important for our young people and for us teachers as well.
When things go wrong as they sometimes will,
When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit
– Rest, if you must, but don’t you quit.
"Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won, had he stuck it out;
Don’t give up, though the pace seems slow,
You may succeed with another blow . . .
"Success is failure turned inside out,
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you can never tell how close you are,
It may be nearer, when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight, when you’re hardest hit
It’s when things seem worst, that you mustn’t quit."
School teachers are not always right. Yes, I think it is important for us to recognize that, because our students surely know it. In 1889, in Munich, Germany, a schoolmaster said to one of his ten-year old students: "You will never amount to much!" Do you know the name of the student to whom he was talking? It was Albert Einstein.
In 1962, the President of Decca Recording Company turned down a group of musicians who wanted to record for him. He said to the musicians: "We don’t like your sound. Groups of guitars are on their way out." You know to whom he was talking? The Beatles.
In the 18th century, the Emperor Ferdinand turned to the composer after the first playing of his new opera, and said to him: "It was far too noisy, far too many notes." Ferdinand was talking to Mozart about "The Marriage of Figaro."
But Einstein, The Beatles, and Mozart refused to accept the words "defeat" or "give-in" or "give-up." They believed in that poem I read to you. "So stick to the fight when you are hardest hit. It’s when things seem worst, that you mustn’t quit."
My PE teacher in elementary school some 50 years ago taught us "when the going gets tough, the tough get going."
I thank God and my doctors for the fact that I am in the eighth year of living with five heart bypasses, so I found a study done by a cardio-vascular surgeon at the University of Rochester College of Medicine, very interesting. Dr. Charles Kimball studied 55 patients who had to undergo open-heart surgery, and he divided these patients into four separate groups. The groups were similar – same age, same physical problems, similar economic backgrounds. They had one major difference – their attitude toward the upcoming surgery.
The first group was very enthusiastic. "Do it now because I’m going to get better quickly. I want to get back to work as soon as possible."
The second group was less enthusiastic about the surgery, and the third group was still less enthusiastic. The fourth group was pessimistic. "I really don’t want to have this surgery; my children are forcing me to do it. You better call the mortuary now ‘cause I don’t think I’m going to make it."
Dr. Kimball discovered that even though the groups were virtually the same, the results were very different. In the first group, the enthusiastic one, almost all benefitted immensely from the surgery and they gained a renewal on life. The second group had less success, the third had still less success. But the fourth group, the totally pessimistic group, had devastating results; many of those patients actually died.
Dr. Kimball wrote: "The only difference between the patients was their attitudes. The ones who thought they would be defeated, were defeated. The ones who thought they would die, did die. But the ones who said, ‘I’m going to fight it’ had a high rate of success."
We Jews mark the pact between Abraham and his descendants and God by bringing every male child into the covenant on the eighth day of life. This ritual is known as brit milah, the covenant marked by circumcision. But most of us just call it a "bris." In traditional Judaism, there is a special chair set aside at every brit milah ceremony for the prophet Elijah. No one sits on it; we simply call it "kisay Eliyahu – the chair of Elijah." There is an interesting origin to that custom.
The rabbis say that this chair is set aside for Elijah because Elijah once became very pessimistic in his efforts for Judaism. In I Kings, Chapter 19, it is reported that Elijah turned toward God and said: "The Jews have left You, O God. They no longer want to be Jews. Judaism is doomed. Soon we will evaporate off the face of the earth."
God said, almost in these words: bite your tongue, Elijah. A Jew is not permitted to be a pessimist. A Jew must always be an optimist. A Jew must always hope for the best and never give in to thoughts of the worst.
Therefore, every time we have a bris for a new baby boy, God says: "Elijah, you are going to be invited to that ritual and a chair will be set aside for you to show you that Jews and Judaism will never evaporate off the face of the earth. Be optimistic, never pessimistic. "
"When the going gets tough, the tough get going." It is not always easy, comfortable, or gratifying to be a teacher. Today there are a lot of challenges to your calling. Colleagues, I urge you to re-read two chapters in our weekly Torah portion, Exodus 18 and 20. God promises Moses, who is known in our tradition as Moshe Rabbenu, Moses Our Teacher, the paradigm for all teachers: "You will be able to bear up." And Moses teaches his students: "be not afraid."
Dear colleagues, I hope that we will all be able to teach our students perhaps the most important lesson we can convey to them. I am not sure if I have the faith of Rabbi Akiba, that everything that happens is l’tovah – for the good. I do have the faith, and so can you, to remember the words of John Ruskin, a 19th century author, who said: "When God shuts a door, God usually opens a window."
I believe we can teach our students to remember the words of the 20th century novelist A. J. Cronin: "Hell is the place where one has ceased to hope." Let’s teach our students to never give up hope.
And I believe we can teach our students – and of course we all teach best by the example of our lives – "So stick to the fight, when you are hardest hit. It’s when things seem worst, that you mustn’t quit."
The bumps of life are what we climb on. God grant that we and our students may continue climbing throughout our days on this earth. Amen
This message is based on the work of Rabbi Jack Segal, to whom I am deeply indebted.
