Allah’s Importance For Unknown And Quiet Mensches – OpEd

Jews and Muslims share a wonderful experience of Unknown or Quiet uplifters. Abu Hurayra said: “I entered the mosque, and Prophet Muhammad said to me, ‘Abu Hurayra, in this hour, a man will walk through this door, who is one of the seven people of the world through whom Allah diverts punishment from the Earth’s inhabitants. 

Just then an Ethiopian who was bald, maimed, and carrying a container of water on his head entered through that door. Prophet Muhammad said, “O Abu Hurayra, that’s him,” and then said to the man three times, “Welcome” This man used to sweep and clean the Mosque.” (Recorded by Hakim at-Tirmidhi in Nawadir, Asl #123) and Khatm al-Awliya p.443)

Most Islamic scholars would say this is not a certain Hadith (tradition). But it certainly is a beautiful, compassionate Hadith, with a strong message to respect every human being; regardless of class, status or physical appearance. This Hadith also expresses a special type of wisdom that comes, not from academic books or learned scholars, but from the pious yearnings of the masses of good hearted, religious believers.

These yearnings are then expressed by sensitive scribes and preachers who expand them into inspiring fables and pious beliefs. After all, “God made human beings because God loves stories.” (Elie Wiesel) and “There are all kinds of stories. Some are taken from reality and processed through inspiration, others rise up from an instant of inspiration; and become real after being told again and again.” (Isabel Allende)

In both Islam and Judaism, a folk belief grew up in the Middle East, unsupported by the religious scholars, that if it were not for a small number of very righteous people, the whole corrupt society we live in would collapse upon itself. Neither the Torah nor the Qur’an explicitly proclaim such a belief, but the concept does support the ideal that a few people who continue to live in righteous purity, even when everyone else has become corrupt, can in some mystical way really make a big difference in society’s survival.

Even today the whole earth seems to be filled with violence, cruelty, oppression and injustice. The corrupt behavior of many political, economic, intellectual and even religious leaders is constantly being exposed.

Of course, our generation is not the first to suffer from these widespread social, political, cultural and national maladies; and religious people know that God is merciful and compassionate as well as just. Indeed, the God, who is known to Muslims and Jews as: Ar-Rahman, Ha Rakhaman, the Compassionate One; and Ar-Rahim. El Rakhum, the Merciful One, who shows patience and forbearance in the face of widespread human iniquity and sin, can be understood in many ways.

One explanation, that developed within some parts of both the Jewish and Muslim communities, is that in every generation there are a small number of very special hidden male and female saints (60 or 40 Abdal in Islam and 36 or 30 Tsadikim in Judaism), whose souls are so kind, honest, trusting and righteous, that for their sake alone, the rest of the society of sinful human beings avoids collapse. 

Thus, the concept of the hidden male and female saints emphases the importance God gives to a small number of very kind and righteous people who serve as the supporting foundations of the civilized world; and in some way known only to God, support human civilization against total disintegration.

In addition to the super-unknowns, there are tens of thousands of men and women who are known by a few, and should be much better known by the public.

The minimum saints needed differed from sage to sage. Rabbi Simeon bar Yohai believed, “the world never lacks 30 righteous people” (Genesis Rabbah 35:2) while Rabbi Simeon ibn Yehozadak says (Ḥullin 92a. and Midrash Psalms 5:5) “the world exists by the merit of 45 righteous men and women”. And according to Rav Judah, the number 30 represents the number of “righteous gentiles among the nations of the world” (Ḥullin 92a).

I would like to share a fable about events  that may never have happened the way it was told, because it always happens in various other ways. The fable’s theme is the power of a pure hearted simple person’s righteous plea should, and sometimes does have: 

Once there was a great drought. A rabbi called all the Jews of his village to the synagogue. They prayed day and night, but still no rain fell. Then the rabbi declared a fast, and asked God to answer their prayers. That night he heard a voice from heaven, saying, “God will send rain only if Rahamim, who always sits in the back corner of the synagogue, prays for it.” 

“But he’s an ignoramus,” protested the rabbi.  “and I am not sure how kosher his home is.” Silence was the response.

When Rahamim came to the synagogue the rabbi said, “Tomorrow you will lead the congregation in prayers for rain,” “But I do not know how to lead prayers,” said Rahamim. “There are so many others who know more than I.” “Nevertheless,” said the rabbi, “it is you who must lead the prayers.”

The next day the rabbi called all the people together to pray. The synagogue was filled to bursting. All eyes were on the place where everyone expected to see the rabbi leading them in prayer. How great was their amazement to see poor Rahamim standing up there before the Holy Ark, holding a clay jar with two spouts in his hands. “Now I ask that you pray with all your heart,” he told the congregation. 
So they opened the Ark, where the Torah scroll was kept, and the people poured out their hearts to heaven, wailing bitterly and beating their breasts. Then Rahamim lifted up his jar, first placing one spout to his eye and then the other to his ear. There was a rumble of thunder and then the sky opened up, drenching the earth with rain. 

The rabbi later asked Rahamim, “Why did you bring that jar to the synagogue? What did you do with it?” “Rabbi, I’m a poor, ignorant man,” Rahamim replied. “What I earn as a shoemaker barely feeds my many children. Every day they cry for bread and I have little to give them. 

When I hear their cries my heart breaks, and I too cry. So I collect my tears in this jar. When you asked me to come here to pray, I looked into the jar and said, ‘Master of the Universe, if you do not send rain, I will break this jar in front of the whole congregation.’ 

Then I heard a voice that said, “Ask again when you stand before the congregation. So I did and I heard a voice say: ‘Do not break the jar’.”  And then it began to rain.

So God does answer some unknown saints. But there are tens of thousands of Quiet Mensches whose behavior should be broadcast widely. This year on the Jewish holiday of Rosh HaShanah Rabbi Brenner Glickman spoke to his Florida congregation: 

Friends, on this holy day of Rosh Hashanah, let us draw our attention to the quiet mensches who live among us. We know many of them in our own lives. These are the ones who do not call out to be noticed, or grab the spotlight with their antics. They just faithfully do the work that needs to be done, quietly bringing goodness into the world, and sustaining us. They hold together the very fabric of our society.

Our Rabbis in the midrash teach that one error is common for all of us, we tend to fixate on dramatic people – celebrities, sinners – and neglect to notice the quiet and the righteous ones among us. But the quiet and righteous people who hold together the fabric of our community.

I am relieved that this issue was a problem in the days of our ancient Rabbis, and not just for us. But it seems that our generation, our moment, has taken this to a whole new level. Social media is dominated by who can be the most outrageous, get the most clicks, and grab the most attention. On TV, the newscasts focus on the most sensational, feeding our rage against people doing the most offensive things. On the radio, each shock jock tries to out-shock the other shock jock and get better ratings. And it works.

We keep elevating people who are more and more outrageous. It wasn’t always this way. Harry Truman hated to draw attention to himself. Dwight Eisenhower was not elected for his charisma. These were men of decency and honor, and quiet competence. They could not win a primary today. What is wrong with us? The most notable people are not often the most righteous. And the most righteous people are not often the most notable.

If you love babies, you don’t wish for them fame, glory or riches. We just want them to be happy, and be a mensch. A mensch is a high compliment in the Jewish tradition. A mensch is a person of quiet honor: good and kind. A mensch is honest. A mensch is the someone you can count on. 

Male or female, a mensch is a mensch!

Thankfully, we all know mensches in our lives. That is one of life’s sweetest blessings. Anyone here today could come up right now and tell us about a mensch they know. But it is my turn at the podium, so I will give an example from the midrash of our ancient Rabbis. This is the story of how God chose Mount Sinai of all the mountains in the world. Rumor spread that soon God would descend from the highest of heavens, and grant the Torah as a gift to the people Israel upon a mountaintop. Immediately, the speculation began among the mountains – which mountain will it be? 

Among the most curious was little Mount Sinai. Mount Carmel spoke out: “I am the most beautiful mountain, surely it will be me.”

“Oooh,” thought little Mount Sinai, “that sounds right.” Then Mount Hermon jumped in and said, “I am the tallest mountain in the holy land. God will surely choose me.” “Yes,” thought little Mount Sinai, “that makes sense.”

But just then boomed Mount Tabor, “Wrong. You are all wrong. I am the most imposing mountain, right in the heart of the holy land. God will choose me.” “I guess so,” thought Mount Sinai.

But on the great day of the Revelation, God chose the most humble and unassuming of all the mountains. On that day, the world stood still. The birds did not chirp; the ox did not bellow. The people Israel backed away, and witnessed the arc of the heavens bend down and touch the top of Mount Sinai, and there God announced to the world: Ani Adonai Eloheichem. I am the Lord your God.

Children love that story. I tell it to the little kids, and they are like, “Yeah!” The little guy wins.
But there is something else going on. There is a secret, subtle message for those who pay attention and understand. It is all hidden in this seemingly quaint fable.

Don’t pay heed to the loud and the proud. God values the humble. And so should we. The prophet Micah asked: What is it the Lord asks of you?

To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. This is not that hard, because there are people all around us who are doing it.

There are quiet mensches all around us who live this way. Let’s make a vow today, you and me, to find these people and tell them how much we appreciate them. And if there was some quiet mensch in your life who has passed away, speak of them to your children. Tell their story to others, so they can be inspired, and grateful, and hopeful.

Friends, we spend a lot of time talking about brash people who act badly. This year, let us focus on the people who deserve our attention.