CHOCHMAS NASHIM: MATOS: CONTRACT WITH HUMANITY
BY: Suri Davis
We are in the midst of the three weeks, a time we mourn the destruction of the Temple. The temple was destroyed because there was baseless hatred among the Jews. In this week’s torah portion, there is a discussion about fulfilling commitments, that which we swear we will do, or refrain from doing, we should fulfill.
One of the major promises is betrothal, between man and woman and people and G-d. There were vows between and G-d and our forefathers, and on Mount Sinai, between the Jews and G-d. Keeping one’s word, is a fundamental obligation which comprises the fabric of any community or society.
Humanity. Human contracts. I had an unusual interaction this week. I generally drive to Manhattan, because I am laden with a briefcase and don’t want to be bound by the LIRR schedule. I went this week by train, and I took a subway uptown. As I exited the subway, I saw a blind person with a guide stick who had exited the train as well, and was walking in the opposite direction of the exit.
I walked over to her and asked her if she needed help exiting, and she said yes. She took my arm and we exited. She asked me if I could take her to the bus stop so she could ride eastward. I asked a stranger where the bus stop was and I waited for the bus to come and walked her on to the bus. She thanked me and I went to my appointment, which was cancelled last minute.
As I returned to Penn Station and back to Woodmere, I pondered my trip. I rarely take the subway. I went to Manhattan for a meeting which was cancelled right after I guided the blind woman to her bus. I discussed this with a friend, who asked “was the woman effusive, thanking me for going out of my way, was she apologetic for delaying me”, and the answer was no.
Another friend asked if I conversed with the woman, and surprisingly, the answer was no. Looking back, I was in some kind of tunnel vision, feeling the awe of helping this woman. Apparently, the only reason I was in Manhattan was to help this woman.
And I’ve been pondering the contract of humanity. Standing up for an older person or pregnant woman on a bus or train. Opening a door for a disabled person. Saying “bless you” when a person sneezes. Helping a lost child find her parent. These are contracts of society.
As I think back to this incident, I am a little shocked that there were others exiting the train, who passed this blind woman and walked right past her, did they not see that she was going in a path that lead no where? They seemed to be blind as well, blind to the need of others.
My mind goes to the woman. She left point A, and had to reach point B, with only her guide stick in hand. She left knowing that she would need assistance getting on the train, determining when she reached her destination, getting off the train, getting out of the station and on a bus to point B. She believed that she could make it. She is young. She could have stayed home. She could have taken a taxi. She chose to navigate as a sighted person, but with her stick. Like a performer at a concert that does the trust plunge, plunging backward trusting that the audience will catch him.
As I mulled it over, it dawned on me as I was pulling in to the Woodmere station, that this is the quintessential definition of “blind faith.” Trusting as you set out that you will get to your destination. How difficult it would be for me to trust that the stick will prevent me from falling on the tracks, bumping into a wall or falling down stairs. The woman does not have to be effusive, her contract with humanity made this interaction commonplace for her, “I don’t have, you have, can you share.” “These are my needs, thanks for your help.”
…and yet…every day we get dressed, we daven/pray and we go out into the world, navigating obstacles which block our way. We have faith in G-d, blind faith, in that we literally cannot see him with our eyes, but we trust that He will get us to our destination, permit us to reach our goal, keep us safe and healthy. Some of us don’t pray, taking for granted that G-d will keep us safe, some of us thank G-d in a matter of fact way, and others are effusive.
When we breached our contract with humanity, when we treated others with disrespect and broke the contract of brotherhood, when we broke our word and perverted justice, G-d could not abide this, and so He withdrew His protection from the Jews and the temple, and the enemies came upon us and destroyed our temple and exiled us into the diaspora for thousands of years.
Justice should be blind, i.e., impervious to wealth and power and social status. We should not be blind to the plight of others. This lesson in blind faith deeply moves me.
Shabbat shalom.
-Suri