Another beautiful text! One that I wrote about one Shabbat Shuvah (the Shabbat between Rosh haShanna and Yom Kippur). So, I will paste the text, then my sermon below 🙂
The Gemara relates: When Rabbi Ḥanina and Rabbi Ḥiyya would debate matters of Torah, Rabbi Ḥanina would say to Rabbi Ḥiyya: Do you think you can debate with me? Heaven forbid! If the Torah were forgotten from the Jewish people, I could restore it with my powers of analysis and intellectual acumen. Rabbi Ḥiyya said to Rabbi Ḥanina: Do you think you can debate with me? You cannot compare yourself to me, as I am acting to ensure that the Torah will not be forgotten by the Jewish people. Rabbi Ḥiyya elaborated: What do I do to this end? I go and sow flax seeds and twine nets with the flax, and then I hunt deer and feed their meat to orphans. Next I prepare parchment from their hides and I write the five books of the Torah on them. I go to a city and teach five children the five books, one book per child, and I teach six other children the six orders of the Mishna, and I say to them: Until I return and come here, read each other the Torah and teach each other the Mishna. This is how I act to ensure that the Torah will not be forgotten by the Jewish people. The Gemara notes that this is what Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi said: How great are the deeds of Rabbi Ḥiyya! Rabbi Yishmael, son of Rabbi Yosei, said to Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi: Are his deeds even greater than the Master’s, i.e., yours? Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi said to him: Yes.
My sermon:
In his autobiography, Jeff Corwin shares that while filming an episode of The Jeff Corwin Experience in Namibia he was on set when a cheetah popped up in the grass. The big cat was 15-20 feet away from Jeff and his producer. It started walking towards them and Jeff’s producer warned, “There is no way we can outrun a cheetah.” “I don’t need to;” Jeff responded, “I only need to outrun you.”
This was a joke cracked in a moment of fear. But in reality, this is the way so many of us live our lives – believing that in order for us to survive, or thrive, or be appreciated, or special, or loved – others have to serve as cheetah food.
It’s a false understanding of the idea of scarcity. Yes, certain things are limited in life, like hours in the day, or m&m’s in a bag. But the big things in life are not scarce at all. Love, joy, accomplishment – these things have no bounds.
To be a Jewishly religious person is to believe that God did not create a single one of us without a purpose. God wants all of us to thrive – and our success is actually not contingent on looking good compared to others – it’s contingent on everyone succeeding together.
Rabbi Barras talked about this last week when he highlighted that our HHD prayer book asks us to confess in the plural – ashamnu, bagadnu – al chet shechatanu – we have sinned – this is a group effort.
Yes, an individual may be righteous in their own acts. But that is not the ideal.
A story is shared in the Talmud, Bava Metzia 85b that illustrates this:
“Rabbi Hanina and Rabbi Hiyya used to quarrel.” This isn’t one of those standard Talmudic arguments where different rabbis give different opinions on a topic. There’s no topic at hand, and these two men are מינצוּ- a word that could equally well describe a fist-fight. This is the clash of two people who could never stand one another and are finally having it out.
“Rabbi Hanina said to Rabbi Hiyya, ‘How dare you argue with me?! If, God forbid, the Torah were to be entirely forgotten from Israel, I could restore it from my own intelligence!’”
Rabbi Hanina strikes the first verbal blow. His name means “Rabbi Grace”, has been graced by God with intellectual gifts that surpass anything his teachers and peers could have ever dreamed of.
Had he gone to Miami public school, he no doubt would have been welcome in the “gifted and talented” program. I imagine he didn’t care much for study groups, and he probably loved being in classes graded on a curve. He dreams up the horrific scenario of the Torah’s being forgotten from Israel, and even though he appends a pious, “God forbid”, we have to wonder whether he doesn’t imagine this mass forgetting with a bit of relish, looking forward to the time when his talents would finally be fully appreciated.
“Rabbi Hiyya said to Rabbi Hanina, ‘How dare you argue with me?! I devote myself to the Torah so that it not be forgotten from Israel. I plant and raise flax seeds. I then harvest them and weave them into nets, which I you to trap deer. I feed the meat of the deer to orphans, and I make the hides into five scrolls, and write one of the five books of Moses on each. Then I go to a town, and I find five children, and teach each one to read one of the five books. Then I find six more children, and teach each one to recite one of the six orders of the Mishna by heart. And I tell them, “By the time I’ve returned, I want each of you to teach the others to read what you can read, and to recite what you can recite.“’”
Rabbi Hanina’s opposite is Rabbi Hiyya, “Rabbi Life.” He isn’t necessarily possessed of gifts of particular intelligence or creativity – he’s just got what we all have: life. His work is painstaking and selfless. Each year he plants flax, and harvests students. And not only students: In giving responsibility to his students to teach one another, he makes them experts! And a team of teachers!
But the two most exceptional dimensions of Rabbi Hiyya’s teaching go even beyond this.
First – he takes the meat of the deer and feeds it to orphans – because he knows that study is not enough! If you are really learning Torah you should be living out it’s principles – like feeding the hungry and protecting the orphan and those others who are out of our normal circle of care. He fully absorbs and lives out God’s words – reproducing them through action.
And second, he returns to his students. His parting words are “By the time I’ve returned, I want each of you to teach the others to read what you can read, and to recite what you can recite.” His return trip promises not only a renewal of the contact and care that were there in his first visit, but also renewed and expanded learning – and teaching – for his students.
We can only imagine how many hundreds of students Rabbi Hiyya taught this way, and how many thousands of students were taught by those students. In the logic of the story (and I don’t care whether this is historically true), we all, if we trace back far enough, are students of Rabbi Hiyya’s.
His is how to be a person in relation to other people, how to pursue a shared goal together. Rabbi Hiyya’s work is a model of being a parent, a child, and sibling; a neighbor and a co-worker and a boss; a spouse and a friend – a fellow congregant.
While in many Talmudic passages there is a truth to both sides, this is not one of those passages. Here Rabbi Hiyya is the hero, and Rabbi Hanina is his foil. The bottom line of this story is a call to fight our impulse to be like Rabbi Hanina (and our impulse to reward others for being like Rabbi Hanina!). To stop lacing up our sneakers trying to outrun the other guy and instead work together so we can both succeed. To be more like Rabbi Hiyya. The Talmud concludes the story sharing, “This is what Rabbi Yehuda ha-Nasi was referring to when he said, ‘Hiyya’s works are so great!’”. Someone asked Rabbi Yehuda ha-Nasi, ‘Even greater than yours?’ He answered, ‘yes’.”
While each of us has our own unique items on our cheshbon nefesh – our souls report card – that we need to work on in the year to come. We should remember that this is not like other report cards – we are not being graded on a curve. As Rabbi Jason Ruben of Machon Hadar has said, “There is no such thing as reaching redemption alone. If we don’t all get there, none of us will… No one here can arrive at next year’s Rosh Hashana whole and blessed without a host of friends and family and colleagues and neighbors who are also there with us.”
“You don’t have to unscrew another person’s light bulb in order to shine”. We can all shine. And together- we can light up the whole world.