by rabbi larry raphael
Emor
Leviticus 21:1-24:23
Ezekiel 44:15-44:31
At the beginning of this week’s portion, the text says that a Kohen (priest) can have no contact with the dead. Only for his closest relatives is an exception made. Otherwise, a Kohen is not allowed to touch the dead.
Why should the Kohen not be allowed to have any contact with the dead? I found an answer from Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi.
He explains: The Kohen is supposed to be a teacher. In the writings of the prophet Malachi, it says we should seek knowledge from his lips. But if you see the dead before you, if you touch the dead, you can’t help but be angry at God, the God who decreed that all who are born must die. And when a teacher who is angry at God teaches Torah, the Torah that he teaches reflects that anger. The Torah that he teaches is bitter. And so in order to keep the teacher from being polluted by anger, he must not touch the dead.
So who then is the effective teacher? What then should we look for when we choose a teacher? What quality should we strive to acquire if we want to be successful teachers and mentors to the people we care about, or our employees in the office, or to our children at home?
Tom Friedman, a columnist for the New York Times, says that a ninth-grader in St. Paul asked him: “What courses should I take in order to fit into the new world in which I will live when I grow up?”
What would you say if someone asked you that question? Friedman didn’t know what to say, so he thought for a few minutes and then he said: “Maybe you should ask your friends who are their best teachers and then, no matter what subjects they teach take their courses. Because, in an age in which new jobs will emerge and old jobs will disappear continually, in an age in which being good at making buggy whips will not be much help because there won’t be any buggies, the most important thing that you can learn is how to learn!”
Who are the teachers that you know or you remember from your own days in school? Were they the ones who knew the most? Or were they the ones who cared about their students the most? Were they the ones who taught in a perfunctory manner so that they could get back to what really counted — their research? Or were they ones who were so in love with their subject that they wanted you to share their love for it?
Let me finish my explanation about teaching with a teaching from Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel. He once spoke to teachers in Jewish schools and he thought long and hard about what to say to them. He tried to teach these teachers how vital and how important, how sacred and how difficult their task is. He tried to convey to them that the fate of the faith of Israel depended, in large measure, on them. And then he finished with this story.
He said that once there was a blacksmith who had an apprentice to whom he wanted to teach his trade. He showed the apprentice the coals that he used and explained to him the size and the type of coals that work best, and the student took notes. Then he showed the student his bellows and explained to him what kind of bellows to use. The student took notes. Then the blacksmith took hold of the bellows and showed the student the proper grip. And again the student took notes.
Then the blacksmith said to the student: “Now do you understand the task?”
The apprentice shook his head and said to his teacher, respectfully but firmly: “You taught me everything but one thing. How do you kindle the spark?”
The story explains simply and clearly what the real task of the teacher is. It is not only to teach students all the tricks of the trade, important as they may be. The real task of a teacher is to teach students how to kindle a spark.
Rabbi Larry Raphael is the senior rabbi of Congregation Sherith Israel in San Francisco.
CopyrightJ, the Jewish news weekly of Northern California