Tu B’av, Vaetchanan 5768: Dehumanization

Did you ever meet someone who was very mild mannered, polite, courteous, but when they get behind the wheel, they are ruthless, cutting people off, never letting someone in their lane or go before them? How do we explain this? How can this person, so nice, so gentle, be such a maniac on the road?

The answer might be that the person in question is very good to people, but when he or she sees another car, they don’t think of it as a person driving a car, but simply as a car. The person is not nasty to the people she is cutting off. In his or her mind, they are being nasty to the cars she is cutting off. Because we travel in cars, some of us relate to other traffic as cars, not as people. Some would argue, and rabbi Weinreb of the OU mentioned this on Tisha B’Av, that in our society, there are many contexts in which we don’t relate to each other as people.

This dehumanization which has taken place in our culture, carries over to many aspects of our lives. When we hear that about 2,000 people died in the war in Georgia this week, we don’t get too excited. After all, millions died in north korea, half a million in Darfur, countless civilians in Iraq. These numbers don’t mean much to us. We don’t think of the numbers as people, just as statistics. When we saw reports of the opening ceremony of the Olympics in China and the thousands of participants marching in sync, we realize that in some societies, everyone is just a number, part of one collective body. In many big cities, particularly in the North and in many countries, you can pass by a thousand people and not only do they not say hello but they make every effort not to even make eye contact with you. Thank G-d it is not like that in Memphis.

And as opposed to all this dehumanization which takes place in society today, today is Tu B’Av, a Jewish holiday which is all about finding the humanity in others. Each year Tu b’av would mark a day on which boys and girls in ancient Israel would meet each other in a parade of sorts. At this parade, says the Mishnah in Taanit, the young ladies would turn to the young men and say, Tnu eineichem bamishpacha: Lift up your eyes, young man and put your eyes on the kind of family I come from. Look at how G-d fearing I am. Don’t look merely at beauty. Some young women would say lift your eyes and see beauty. What the ceremony accomplished was to ask the young Jewish men to begin to see individuals in front of them. To lift their eyes, to look more carefully, to cast their gaze at what was unique and wonderful about each young lady. Perhaps a Shidduch could be made. Today, in many places young jewish singles stare past each other in a deadly dance, overlooking the wonderful qualities of so many of the singles.

This day of Tu b’Av is all about looking at an individual, making sure we don’t dehumanize others. This explains why they insisted in those days that all the young ladies exchange white clothes with one another so as not to embarrass one who lacked fine clothing. The ceremony attempted to limit the dehumanization which takes place due to social station and poverty.

Furthermore, our parasha today reminds of that centerpiece of the ten commandments; honoring our father and mother, so that our days will be lengthened. Why is honoring the father and mother in the center of the ten commandments? Why is it the one command which promises reward and length of days?

Too often we conceive of honoring parents as kids stuff. Children need to respect their parents. Actually, the real challenge is not when the parents are still supporting us, not when we live in their home under their tutelage. The real challenge of respecting parents is in old age. When the parent is no longer the main provider, when the parent is no longer who they were when they were younger. This is a time when it is all the more challenging to honor them. More broadly speaking, the elderly, the sickly, are often dehumanized in our society as well. They become relegated to warehousing. The challenge is even in the context of the warehousing of the elderly, can we find ways to undo any sense of dehumanization? The elderly and the sick are often ignored. My father tells me that now that he often has to get around in a wheel chair, people whom he once counted as friends and acquaintances now pass him by as if he didn’t exist. He becomes labeled or categorized as an invalid, not one of us, because he becomes different and dehumanized. As a child of an octogenarian and nonogenerian, people in their 80’s and nineties, who is doubly challenged by living far away and having a busy schedule, I feel a real challenge of trying to be truly honoring of my parents. How can we give the honor due? With parents living longer and longer, thank G-d, this becomes our challenge; to treat the elderly, especially our parents, as human first and foremost, and even as venerated members of our families.

Rabbi weinreb quoted a famous poem by the Hebrew poet, Yehudah Amichai, who wrote as follows;

Once I was sitting on the steps near the gate at David's Citadel and I put down my two heavy baskets beside me. A group of tourists stood there around their guide, and I became their point of reference. "You see that man over there with the baskets? A little to the right of his head there's an arch from the Roman period. A little to the right of his head." "But he's moving, he's moving!" I said to myself: Redemption will come only when they are told, "Do you see that arch over there from the Roman period? It doesn't matter, but near it, a little to the left and then down a bit, there's a man who has just bought fruit and vegetables for his family."

The words of yehudah amichai.

Redemption will come when we lift our eyes and see the human beings, not the lawyers, not the doctors, not the poor, not the rich, the ugly, the beautiful, but the human beings around us. Today on Tu B’av we are reminded to see everyone for the intrinsic value they hold, to remember the humanity and the value of every person, regardless of age, stage, status or fortune. As our haftorah states, see all the many stars, to each one G-d calls a name, not one is left out. Let us hope that we can learn the lesson of this day and treat each other just a bit more like a human being, a holy soul.

Good shabbos.