Sermon: Shabbat Shofetim
Written by Writings & Sermons by others — 14 September 2016
There is a photograph in my parent’s house of my late grandfather Lionel of blessed memory with his brothers and father. It was taken some time in the 1920’s in Petticoat Lane and it shows all of them hard at work measuring people up in the street – the first stage of their tailoring business. These young men were my great uncles – none still alive – yet in their lives I never knew any of them – except for my grandfather’s twin brother, whom I first met when I gave him a lift home from my grandfather’s funeral years ago.
I never knew any of them because forty years after that picture was taken, by the time when I was born, they were effectively no longer in contact. I don’t know why not. Whether it was through apathy or lack of will to remain a family, but I do know that in several cases it was because of that curse of the Jewish family – the broighus.
Broighus is a Yiddish word. You can use it many ways as in he is broighus with her. They have had a broighus, Why are you two broighus. The origin of the word broighus is in the Hebrew rogez meaning to quake or to tremble with anger (eg Job 3:17, 14:1 and Isaiah 14:9) – rather than in the normal high German. As with all Yiddish words which have survived into the British Jewish vernacular this is one which is impossible to translate. It has to do with an offence taken decades ago from which there seems to be no recovery. It’s more than a family dispute, it’s more than an argument but it’s a little less than a feud because there is not violence you just don’t speak to each other. Broighus splits families asunder, affects generations yet unborn cutting them off from their ancestors and I suspect that there is hardly a family anywhere which doesn’t suffer from it.
As a Rabbi I very often find myself involuntarily in the role of broighus referee – because Judaism is enriched and lived to a great extent through its life cycle ceremonies. Traditionally no Jewish wedding is complete without a great aunt Sadie whom the Bride and Groom have never met – ruining the table plan because she cannot be sat anywhere near third cousin Morrie , whom they also have never met, because of the incident over the deckchairs at Westcliffe-on-Sea in 1962.
Often, of course, the sad effects of these long running disputes are felt most keenly at funerals. It has been possible to keep the broighus under wraps up until then but since the mitzvah of accompanying a person on their last journey is open to all, Jews don’t invite people to funerals, everyone must be welcome to come, old enemies have to meet up again and it is rare that they voluntarily, in the words in our Torah portion Shofetim “offer terms of peace to each other”. (Deuteronomy 20:10)
Something that people often say to me in this situation is “I bet you’ve never seen a Jewish family like this”. Sadly I have to reply that, though we may like to fondly imagine that Jewish families have some kind of patent on closeness and togetherness – it is of course the flip side of closeness that when we fall out we carry the wound especially deeply.
Perhaps then we should not be too concerned that for so many of us there are whole parts of our family we know nothing of, that there are perhaps people whom we ourselves resolved never to speak to again, that we have been on the receiving end of someone who no longer wants to know us. Maybe it is just inevitable in our lives.
But this is not so. We are now in the month of Ellul – the month before we reach Rosh Hashanah 5777. For those taking Yom Kippur and the whole process of repentance seriously it is the beginning of the time of the year when our minds and actions should be turning towards teshuvah. That is why before every Friday night and Saturday morning service your Rabbis and Lynette are offering a half hour session of Cheshbon HaNefesh, accounting for our souls so we can prepare ourselves together. In the Sephardi synagogues special prayers of contrition will have been said before every morning service for the past few days and this will continue right up until Rosh Hashanah. In some synagogues the Shofar is sounded after every morning service this month except on Shabbat. The season of change has begun. We will mark the day when these prayers begin in Askenazi synagogues by our Selichot service late at night on Saturday 24th September preceded by a special Alyth Poetry Coffee House, moving ourselves with poetry that speaks to the human condition at this season, like Justin Wise’s piece about our days being numbered which Guy read for us earlier in the service. Days numbered so that there is no better time to mend a broighus than today
Now many of us will know the statement in the Mishnah that Yom Kippur procures atonement for sins between a person and God, meaning that our relationship with God can be returned to its ideal state through our efforts of prayer and repentance on that long day of prayer Yom Kippur. But we will also know the next part of that statement: that Yom Kippur does not procure atonement for sins between one person and another unless that person has first managed to appease the person who has been wronged.
Wherever there is a broighus, wherever in the popular expression people are “not talking to one another” – this cannot possibly have happened effectively. So in the Jewish understanding of wrongdoing a broighus that lasts more than one Yom Kippur must be counted a sin on the part of the person who originally caused it.
But of course the whole point of a broighus is that Morrie blames Sadie and Sadie blames Morrie and their mutual refusal to “climb down” is the fuel that keeps the broighus burning! Each is able to dig in, often trying to create a wave of broighus behind them whereby Morrie’s children assume that there is something wrong with Sadie’s until, at Morrie’s funeral, when they finally meet, it is all too late.
The Rabbis of the Talmud (Yoma 86b) were well aware of this potential and so they made some suggestions as to how the impasse could be crossed. Rabbi Hisda said that if it falls upon you to repair a relationship with someone else you should attempt to do so no less than three times. He also recommended that you try to use intermediaries if you cannot see a way to doing so yourself and try at least three different people to get through to the person you are trying to reconcile yourself with. Rabbi Jose Ben Hanina said that three times was enough – if the person you are trying to reconcile will not accept your apology then you can be satisfied that you have tried hard enough to do the right thing. Rabbi Isaac said that a Jew should not be concerned that he might need to humble himself in order to make up with his neighbour as humility might be just what is needed. But one can also follow that example of Rabbi Zera and make sure that you are available for your forgiveness to be sought – as Zera used to seek out anyone who had wronged him during the year in Ellul and come near them so that they could easily make the first move.
That is why this sermon is coming now at the beginning of the month of Elul – there is still plenty of time for each of us to begin to make the move that might see us reconciled with anyone whom we may have upset or who has upset us. The rabbis of the Talmud saw this as an active process to be engaged in by all those who wanted to enter the New Year with a clearer conscience – genuinely ready for Yom Kippur.
Judaism contains a number of rituals to enable a person to make the first move in a difficult situation. For example the mitzvah of bikkur cholim – the visiting of the sick makes it incumbent on the healthy to find out the needs of the sick person in order to help them – rather than sit at home waiting to be asked. The shivah, and our ritualised greetings for people who have recently been bereaved – wishing them long life or that they be comforted by God among the mourners, enables us to easily make the first move to break the ice in the face of another person’s tragedy . Of course the shivah period, when it is observed and the mourner stays at home, makes it simple to visit a person who has been bereaved without worrying about whether or not you will be wanted. Even the mitzvah of mishloach manot, the sending of gifts during the festival of Purim can help – where it is mitzvah to make a gesture of generosity to anyone. Digging in is really distinctly un-Jewish.
In general, in Judaism, it is never the wrong thing to make the first move to help, to comfort or to sort out a dispute. Perhaps as a people who have often been dispersed we know that we do not have forever to make up with somebody – as the Amshinover Rabbi said: “To sin against a fellow person is worse than to sin against the Creator. The man you harmed may have gone to an unknown place and you many lose the opportunity to beg his forgiveness. The Eternal One however, is everywhere and you can always find Him when you seek Him.”
Fifteen years ago the long running Goldsmith broighuses came to an end. One week before Rosh Hashanah 2001– we had a family re-union of all who were descended from my Great Grandfather – the aim being that this next generation, and the few remaining spouses of the original generation who fell out with each other, got to meet each other and get the chance to know each other as we really are. It took place in a hotel, there are so many of us with there having been seven brothers. It was a beautiful occasion and it worked – close relationships did not form but I now know where I come from, I have more photos of the family. I know that they are decent good people, with the odd time like me when they say or do the wrong thing. I hope that wherever they are my long passed great uncles and my Grandpa Lionel have also found each other, remembered that they are family, and the seven of them are enjoying the deckchairs and an eternal joyful sunny day out together on the beach in the Westcliffe-on-Sea up above.