Innate GPS

Years ago, I knew how to navigate the South Shore.  I knew to use Peninsula Boulevard to get from West Hempstead to Cedarhurst and to take Hempstead Avenue to Broadway when I needed to get to Hewlett or Lawrence.  If any route was blocked, I intuited alternatives since I knew the overall direction in which I was headed. 

Not anymore.  Is it because I haven’t lived there for awhile?  I don’t think so.  Frankly, I blame it on Madam GPS.  Since she entered my life, my navigational capacity has atrophied.  She is the reason why I no longer remember how to get to Atlantic Beach without paying a toll.  Because of her, I can no longer say with certainty at what point Broadway crosses Fifth Avenue. 

What's God Got to Do With It?

Drivers Ed, circa 1980.  My teacher delivers the following hypothetical: Suppose it’s night-time and you’re on a deserted highway.  No cops, no one.  You miss an exit.  The next one is 50 miles away.  You can back up a bit and take the exit.  Chances are good that no one will see you.  But you know it’s illegal.

What do you do?

I don’t remember what the answers were.  But I remember that it got me thinking at the time, and I’ve considered the question as part of a larger conversation.

Are we wired to do what’s right or not?  Do we differentiate between different kinds of rules – some affect other people, some seem rational, some seem arbitrary?  How much do we need the cop patrolling to keep us in line?

No Questions Asked

I went to college in New York City and often, on the way to class, was asked for money by people on the street.  Initially I gave without reservation.  Over time, friends and others suggested that I should probably be more circumspect.

After all, I wasn’t sure how the money would be used and I might be giving financial support for self-destructive behavior.

So, following the example of others I witnessed, I began asking those seeking money if I could buy them a sandwich or a piece of fruit.  Some refused, but many accepted.

As a rabbi, I’m often asked to provide money for people in need.  In keeping with the dynamic I discovered as a young man, I respond by giving food cards, no questions asked.

Centuries ago, Rav Yehuda articulated the principle, ein bodkin lim’zonot (Talmud, Bava Batra 9a), meaning that when it comes to providing food, we don’t ask questions.  We don’t examine background, we don’t try to assess motivation.  If someone says he needs food and we are able to provide it, we do so, no questions asked.

I believe this is something that Hatzilu, an organization devoted to providing relief for needy Jews, has always understood.  From the time I moved to Long Island as a rabbinical student, over 20 years ago, I have always been impressed by the intuitive sensitivity that animates Hatzilu’s many volunteers.  The sensitivity emerges from the bedrock understanding that food is a basic human need and hunger is simply unacceptable.

From ancient Palestine to modern New York City and its environs, the words of Rav Yehuda continue to reverberate.  Ein bodkin lim’zonot.  When it comes to giving food, no questions asked, except for one:  How can we continue to help?

Written for the Hatzilu Newsletter, March, 2012