Shana
Tova! As we gather in the Meadow on this
Erev Rosh Hashanah, our dress and even our surroundings are a world away from
the usual High Holy Day formality. And
so, in this vein, as has become our tradition, I’d like to share a story with
you this evening. It’s a Chasidic tale,
retold by Rabbi Steven Leder, with my own twist. Sit back, take in a deep breath, and relax!
Long ago,[i]
in a land far away, nestled in the mountains, was a small little village. This village was filled with hard working,
good people. The village was small
enough that everyone knew each other, and everyone took care of each other. Now this village didn’t have much, it wasn’t
known for its business, its food, or its culture, but it was known, for one
reason; its claim to fame was its mayor.
Now this
mayor was wise and caring. For many
decades, the mayor governed with kindness and compassion. The mayor brought prosperity and optimism and
so the mayor was beloved by the denizens of that village.
The mayor
had just one child. The child was born
in the village and the child grew up amongst all the citizens. From a cute cuddly baby, to a tottering
toddler, to a pimply faced teenager, everyone cared for and loved this child.
And now,
in a blink of an eye, that cute cuddly baby was now grown-up and had found a loving
partner. There was going to be a
wedding! The feeling of excitement
permeated every corner, every shop, and every house in the village. For, there was only one mayor, and that mayor
had just one child. It would be the
celebration of the year, no, the celebration of the decade!
As word
sprung like wildfire, the murmuring began.
Where would the wedding be held? What
gifts could they provide? How to make
this the most joyous event the village had ever seen?
As the
murmuring increased, the villagers decided that they, as a group, could provide
the wine for the celebration. This would
be the perfect gift! And so, a
proclamation was sent out by the Chief Steward to each and every citizen:
“Hear ye,
Hear ye, each member of this village is asked to fill a bucket with your best
wine and bring it to the Town Square.”
“Hear ye,
Hear ye, a huge barrel should be built in the town square, alongside it, a ramp
that will lead up to the barrel. Each
villager should pour your bucket into the barrel!”
“Hear ye,
Hear ye, on the evening of the wedding, the wedding couple and all in our village
will tap the barrel and we will have the most glorious celebration our village
has ever seen.”
And so, they
all began diligently getting ready. The
Chief Carpenter and all the workers began to construct the biggest barrel you’d
ever seen. They set the barrel on top of
tall poles in the very center of the town square. Next to the barrel and the poles, they made a
large ramp, leading right up to the barrel.
Over the
course of the next month, every citizen, young and old, rich and poor, climbed the
ramp and poured the contents of their buckets into the barrel.
Days before the wedding, the people could see
the level of the liquid rising to the top of barrel and watched as the moisture
began to seep through the wood. As the barrel
began to fill up, the people became more and more excited.
Finally, the
wedding day arrived! It was a beautiful
sunny September day, perfect weather for a wedding. The mayor walked the child down the aisle, and
everyone oohed and awed! The wedding
couple was so happy, so filled with love, they were a perfect match! Their vows were beautiful and everyone, and I
mean everyone, commented on the rabbi’s astute and meaningful wedding address! Excitement began to build as the couple
smashed the glass and everyone yelled out: Mazel Tov!
As the
wedding couple danced down the aisle, everyone in the village followed after
them! They grabbed hands and began to
dance the hora. The couple was lifted on
chairs and everyone yelled out: Mazel Tov!
And now,
the moment that they had all been waiting for!
The entire village gathered around the big barrel. The Chief Steward grabbed the mallet and
climbed up the ramp. In everyone’s
hands, was an empty glass, ready to be filled with sweet delicious wine!
The Chief
Steward stood on top of the ramp and gazed out at the village below. He yelled: “Mazel Tov to our
mayor, Mazel Tov to the wedding couple, and Mazel Tov
to our village, as we celebrate the happiest day ever!
The Chief
Steward grabbed the mallet, tapped the barrel and placed a glass underneath the
spigot. And everyone yelled one final: Mazel
Tov!
The
village stood silent as the Chief Steward turned the spigot and they all watched
as the liquid poured out. And what
flowed from the barrel? Nothing… but…
water.
What? How could this be? For weeks, each villager had filled their
bucket and poured the content into the barrel.
Each citizen thought, “Well, there are a lot of people filling up this
barrel! One bucket of water won’t change
the taste of this delicious wine. No one
will know the difference!”
Except,
that each and every person did that exact same thing. Instead of the barrel being filled with sweet
delicious wine, there was only water.
Instead of being the happiest day, that celebration turned out to be the
saddest moment in the village’s history.
Now, I
know the wine lovers out there are horrified that anyone would even think of
mixing together different styles and vintages of wines; a Malbec with a Pinot
Grigio, what a disaster! We know that it’s
not about the mixing, it’s about our bottles, yours and mine, and the way we
fill them up. I use the metaphor of
wine, but choose your drink of choice, whether it’s juice, soda, or chocolate
milk!
For in
the Talmud, our rabbis teach: “A person must not fill up a jug of wine with
water because it misleads others.”[ii] I firmly believe that most of us, most of the
time, are good people. We aren’t trying
to mislead each other, we aren’t trying to commit fraud, we aren’t trying to
get away with murder, but sometimes, it’s just easier to fill up the jug with
water, not wine.
For we
know: we’re tired, we’re busy, we’re a little strapped right now; we know that
someone else will do it! What’s a little
white lie here or there, it’s not really hurting anyone? Why put in the time when we can get by with
just a little less? Why not cut a corner
especially when it seems like everyone else does? No one will know the difference so why put
forth the effort?
When we
tell a friend that we’ll help, knowing that we won’t follow through: that’s
water, not wine! When we complain
about the state of Baltimore, yet never do our part: that’s water, not
wine! When we’re out to dinner with
loved ones and barely glance up from our phone: that’s water, not wine! When we share our “thoughts and prayers” and
fail to make any change at all: that’s water, not wine! When we tell our children we’re too busy and
can’t find the time: that’s water, not wine!
As Rabbi
Steven Leder teaches: “If one partner in a marriage tries to add water because
he or she expects the other will bring the wine, the couple will have a
watered-down marriage. If you try to
parent according to that principle, you’ll have a watered-down family. If you behave that way as an employee, you’ll
have a watered-down business. If you put
nothing into your Judaism, what do you expect to get out of it?”
Our
tradition recognizes the good in us. We
are told that our cups at Shabbat and Passover should be overflowing, so that
the grape juice and wine spills over the edge.
When the Mishkan, the Tabernacle was built, the people brought so much
gold, jewels, and precious possessions that Moses had to say: “Stop! We have enough!” And our rabbis discuss the limits of tzedakah
because individuals in their community were giving too much money as charitable
gifts.
Rosh
Hashanah is the opportunity for us to ask the question: “What’s in your bottle?”
Are you filling up your bottle with
water or wine? It’s our choice: we can
pretend, act like a fraud, sit back and lets others step up in our stead. We can complain or kvetch and mail it
in! Or we can bring our entire selves
into relationship with others. We can be
present for loved and friends, we can volunteer, we can do our part to better
the lives of others, we can live openly, truthfully, and honestly in word and
deed.
So, take
a moment to imagine a different ending to this story… Imagine that as the spigot turns, out… comes…
sweet delicious wine. Imagine the
celebration that ensues, imagine feeling that you are a part of something
greater than yourself, imagine the pride you feel in following through with
your commitments and responsibilities.
We can’t control the actions of others, but we can control what’s in our
bottle. So bring the most precious,
sweet, delicious wine wherever you go. “That’s
wine you say, never water!”
[i]
There are many versions of this Chasidic story, but my version is based upon
the storytelling of Rabbi Steven Z. Leder entitled “The Barrel” found in Three Times Chai ed. Laney Katz Becker
[ii]
Babylonian Talmud Chullin 94a
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