No More Sarcasm - Just Like That

In the scene from “The Frisco Kid” that has been frequently circulated on social media since the death of Gene Wilder a few weeks ago, the Polish rabbi, played by Wilder, is asked by a Native American chief if his god can make it rain. 

Gene Wilder and Val Bisoglio, "The Frisco Kid"

“He can do ANYTHING!”  Exclaims the rabbi.

“Then why can’t he make rain?” Asks the chief.

“Because He doesn’t make rain.  He gives us strength when we’re suffering.  He gives us compassion when all that we feel is hatred.

“He gives us courage when we’re searching around blindly like little mice in the darkness.   BUT HE DOESN’T MAKE RAIN.”

All of a sudden a clap of thunder is heard and it starts to pour. 

“Of course,” says the rabbi, “sometimes - just like that - He’ll change his mind.”

Today is Rosh Hodesh Elul.  During this month we are supposed to make a very special effort at heshbon hanefesh – looking at ourselves, wondering what we’re doing right, what we’re doing wrong, what changes we might like to make.

It’s interesting that we’re not asked during this month to try to understand God better.   But I do think that there’s a marvelous teaching that helps us to understand what God’s role might be in helping us to look within and do what’s right.

It’s expressed in the very first verse of Parashat Re'eh – ראה אנכי נותן לפניכם היום ברכה וקללה re’ei anokhi noten lif’nekhhem hayom brakha uk’lala – today I set before you a blessing and a curse. 

The verse establishes a framework for honoring and challenging our capacity to choose how we live our lives.  So here we are, beginning the month that leads right into Rosh Hashanah, and I want us to get off on the right foot.  I'm going to get philosophical and practical.  

I want us to think about what needs to go on inside of us in order for us to make positive changes.  In a moment I will use an issue I personally have started to work on as an example.

The philosopher Moses Maimonides identifies different steps in the process of making positive changes in our lives. 

There is a tradition that every day of the Jewish month of Elul, except for Shabbat and the day right before Rosh Hashanah, we blow the Shofar.  Maimonides tells us it’s a remez, a hint, an inspiration, for us to wake up.  Hakitzu meshinat’khem – wake up from your sleep!

This is step one.  Waking up.  Realizing what’s going on around us and allowing ourselves to become aware of one of the hardest things to become aware of, which is what we ourselves are doing wrong.

There are so many forces that align to prevent us from acknowledging that we’re doing things wrong.  Denial can be really powerful.  That’s a whole other sermon.

Sometimes people we love can help us wake up.

Here’s an example.

It turns out that I have a tendency, especially under stress, especially with family members, to use sarcasm in ways that are not universally well received. 

How do I know that it’s not universally well-received?  Because certain individuals have told me so. 

The first time I heard of this, I denied it.  Moi?  I thought.  But I have such a gentle, loving presence.  You must be confusing me with someone else.

And the conversation continued, and it was pointed out to me from time to time in the moment as in – see, you just did it – and it was hurtful.  Or it didn’t help us to figure out what we need to figure out.  And I started to own it.  And I started to see how my sarcasm, applied in certain situations, was doing damage to people I care about.

So step one is to wake up.  To be aware of an issue, to understand why it’s problematic.

Step two of the change process: When you are in the same situation in which you messed up before, don’t mess up again.  One definition of teshuva, of repentance, is that you act differently this time than you did last time.

For example – Joseph’s brothers, toward the end of the book of Genesis, have the opportunity to abandon their brother Benjamin, just like they had abandoned Joseph years earlier, and they choose not to.  They behave differently.  That’s teshuva.  It’s a total game-changer for the family, actually.  They are on their way to becoming a more united family that will be the foundation of a nation.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled program, the rehabilitation of the sarcastic rabbi. 

So I tried, in situations that called for a direct, sincere response, not to resort to sarcasm. I wasn’t always successful.  And it has taken time to ascertain when an acerbic comment might be warranted and when it’s not.  And what the boundary is between playful and sarcastic, which can vary based on a variety of circumstances.

Step three.  I think this one is especially hard.  Maimonides tells us that we should strive, not just to change individual behaviors, or even patterns of behaviors, but to modify aspects of our personalities, to work on personal qualities that are problematic.

I think that this requires asking difficult questions about what motivates us.  Why do we behave the way we do?  Where is the sarcasm coming from?  Why do we eat more than we should?  Why aren’t we patient?  Why are we dissatisfied?   Why are we angry? 

It’s hard to hear about the things we do wrong; it’s harder to make changes in our behavior; and it’s harder still to take a deep look at why we are the way we are and to consider aspects of our own character.

That’s the challenge, and the gift, that the Torah tells us God gives us, a challenge and a gift that we focus on in particular on the cusp of a New Year. 

You could say that when God isn’t busy making it rain, God is busy giving us the insight and the strength to look at ourselves, to listen to loving criticism, to consider what we might do differently and to begin to make some changes.

Sometimes – just like that - we’ll change our hearts, our minds, our behavior and our character.

Usually it’s not so simple.

Originally offered at Temple Israel of Great Neck on September 3, 2016, Rosh Hodesh Elul