In 2019 the shul where I worked was firebombed by an incompetent assailant who managed to cause no damage whatsoever and whose early-morning attack would have gone altogether undetected if the custodian hadn’t noticed some broken glass on the parking lot, prompting us to look at the prior night’s security camera footage. As a result of the attack I found myself, several weeks later, on a very very early morning bus ride to Springfield to lobby our state government for additional allocations for security grants that would be available to houses of worship. I only realized how early I had gotten up to catch that bus to Springfield when several hours later, I looked at photographs of myself and saw that I had dressed myself in a non matching suit jacket and pants.
On the bus with me that day were a motley crew of Chicago interfaith clergy who had all been asked to participate in this day of lobbying. There was a Syrian priest who was a native Aramaic speaker on the bus with me and there was a Baptist minister who had lived as a shepherd in the Galilee for three months in order to better understand biblical shepherds so I had a pretty significant sense of imposter syndrome all day long.
My Aramaic is good enough so long as I can rely on Rashi to help me out but ever since the Syrian civil war Sara and I have had the recurring experience of being amazed and impressed by overhearing snippets of Aramaic in casual conversation in a taxi or at a store. And while I will never not be excited to overhear a mother tell her child “Ta Hazi” – come and see…this shirt which is on sale for 50% off, Aramaic alone does not bring Talmudic scholarship.
The Talmud does tell the story of Rav, the great Amora, who apprenticed as a shepherd for eighteen months so that he could gain expertise in what sort of blemishes in an animal were permanent and what sort of blemishes were temporary, the result of his studies was that he knew too much about sheep and he was not authorized to sit in judgment in these sorts of deliberations. He noticed subtle differences that nobody else could discern or understand and it isn’t safe for a rabbi to be rendering judgements that nobody else can understand or recreate. Shepherding has not been part of any rabbinic curriculum ever again.
And yet, Rabbi Ilai Ofran, the rabbi of Kibbutz Yavneh, wrote about taking part in a leadership training workshop in which the participants were asked to take turns trying to herd a group of sheep from one meadow to another. He learned that sheep do not do what they are told. And, unlike Mary and her little lamb, there is nowhere a shepherd can walk such that the sheep under the shepherd’s care are sure to go. Shepherds guide their flocks from behind.
This is how Yaakov guided his flocks and herds and this is how he instructed and taught his shepherds.
He instructed the one in front as follows, “When my brother Esav meets you and asks you, ‘Whose man are you? Where are you going? And whose [animals] are these ahead of you?’ you shall answer, ‘Your servant Yaakov’s; they are a gift sent to my master Esav; and [Yaakov] himself is right behind us.’”
וַיְצַ֞ו גַּ֣ם אֶת־הַשֵּׁנִ֗י גַּ֚ם אֶת־הַשְּׁלִישִׁ֔י גַּ֚ם אֶת־כׇּל־הַהֹ֣לְכִ֔ים אַחֲרֵ֥י הָעֲדָרִ֖ים לֵאמֹ֑ר כַּדָּבָ֤ר הַזֶּה֙ תְּדַבְּר֣וּן אֶל־עֵשָׂ֔ו בְּמֹצַאֲכֶ֖ם אֹתֽוֹ׃
He gave similar instructions to the second one, and the third, and all the others who followed the flocks, namely, “Thus and so shall you say to Esav when you reach him….” And you shall add, ‘And your servant Jacob himself is right behind us.’” For he reasoned, “If I appease him with presents in advance, and then face him, perhaps he will show me favor.”
When Yaakov sends flocks and herds to Esav, the shepherds walk behind, the Torah describes them as הַהֹ֣לְכִ֔ים אַחֲרֵ֥י הָעֲדָרִ֖ים those who walk behind the flocks.
Amos and David and Shaul and Moshe and Yoseph and Rachel and Yaakov and Avraham were all shepherds. They all led from behind. There is no other profession or way of life that was adopted by so many of our prophets and kings and patriarchs and matriarchs. The Torah is highlighting a form of leadership that revolves, not on following a leader marching at the front of the line, but a form of leadership that entails a group coalescing around a vision that emerges from within their midst. The shepherd does guide the flock but does so from the midst of the flock and with encouragement and direction, not by marching ahead and expecting followers.
[By the way, Shepherd Park is not named after a shepherd. You probably all knew that long before I learned that Thursday evening].
Years ago I was dragged onstage as a “contestant” on a Purim game show that was part of the Purim spiel that year. I remember nothing about the experience of being a game show contestant except for one question that they asked me, a question which revealed a lot about the ways that community – or at least, the spiel writers – viewed religious issues facing the shul.
“If you could choose to have members of this community stop eating out in non-kosher restaurants or to start davening every day with a minyan, which would you choose?” It was Purim night so I just said “no comment” and the evening continued. One could subject the issues to halakhic analysis comparing the risks entailed in eating food cooked in a non-supervised restaurant kitchen with the advantages of communal prayer. But the comparison is a silly one, appropriate for a Purim spiel. Why compare those two elements of mitzvah observance alone? Why pit them against one another as though they were in conflict? One could present any two elements of Jewish observance as though they were in conflict – reciting Kiddush Levanah vs. not eating the limb of a living animal. Which one wins? We can play that game on Purim.
But the real answer, of course, were it to be a serious question, is that I don’t want to live in a community where one person sets the religious agenda for an entire community.
I believe that one defining characteristic of the sort of community that I think most of us wish to live in, is a community that respects that each one of us is on a journey. Each one of us needs to be trusted to have enough integrity to determine for ourselves the pace and direction of our journey. There is not one path, or one “derekh” someone must travel that includes all of the foundations of mitzvah observance in a specific sequence. And there is no arbitrary boundary line, or “kav” that defines the legitimate interpretations of Judaism that will be respected in the sort of communities where most of us wish to live.
Of course there is still room for leadership and I am in awe of the ways that so many of you shape this community with your activism and energy and sincere encouragement of one another to care about the community and to care about mitzvot. This includes the veteran builders of this community. Were it not for your vision for a revival of Orthodox Jewish life in this neighborhood, Orthodox Jewish life in this neighborhood would not have endured. But in the short time that I’ve lived here I’ve also seen example after example of people who have been here even less time than me who have seen a need and have exercised leadership to guide your friends and neighbors and community to coalesce around a shared vision of a stronger, kinder, warmer, and more fun community.
There is one other shepherd in Tanakh whom I have not yet mentioned.
מִזְמ֥וֹר לְדָוִ֑ד ה רֹ֝עִ֗י לֹ֣א אֶחְסָֽר׃
בִּנְא֣וֹת דֶּ֭שֶׁא יַרְבִּיצֵ֑נִי עַל־מֵ֖י מְנֻח֣וֹת יְנַהֲלֵֽנִי׃
גַּ֤ם כִּֽי־אֵלֵ֨ךְ בְּגֵ֪יא צַלְמָ֡וֶת לֹא־אִ֘ירָ֤א רָ֗ע כִּי־אַתָּ֥ה עִמָּדִ֑י שִׁבְטְךָ֥ וּ֝מִשְׁעַנְתֶּ֗ךָ הֵ֣מָּה יְנַֽחֲמֻֽנִי׃…
A psalm of David.
The LORD is my shepherd;
I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me to still waters…
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I fear no harm, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff—they comfort me.
If God is our shepherd, then we have to look for God’s guidance, not only through the thundering voice of a Commander whose truth shatters mountains, but we must also be sensitive to the still quiet voice of friends and neighbors who might encourage us to be a little bit better, to care a little bit more about others, to live with more honesty and integrity and reliability, to learn just another page of Torah, to invest in reciting one more weekday Shacharit or Maariv with real focus and devotion.
And we have to be sensitive to the voice within each one of us that encourages us and guides us and inspires us and gives us a sense of safety as we progress, each one of us, on our own journey.
Rabbi David Wolkenfeld 