A Friend To Those Who Need A Friend

Rabbi Irwin Wiener, D.D.

Going through many books and writings over the years, I am sometimes drawn to articles relating to the life of a Rabbi in a congregational setting. It is quite different than being a Rabbi in an educational environment or involved in social service efforts such as I have been most of my career.

It takes a certain kind of ability to attempt to commit to the daily tasks of caring and sharing which is the hallmark of everyday commitments to a myriad of people with differing views about religion and how these traditions, customs and laws are to be observed, or not, depending on your point of view and upbringing. To say that there are times when issues arise that boggle the imagination would not do justice to the actual involvement whether individually or collectively.

There really are no exceptions. In fact, it is even more difficult in a retirement community, given that many come from all walks of life and locations. Living in such a community brings together people with differing understandings of faith and observance. It is the blending of all these factions that make it an interesting exercise to find common ground.

Recently I read an article written by Rabbi Josh Yuter, a traditional colleague who attempted to delineate the different aspects of Rabbinic performance. He writes that the greatest challenge a Rabbi faces is distinguishing a balance between his professional life and his personal life.

Perhaps that is the most difficult thing to do. We certainly are no different than the average person in that we look forward to the comfort and joy of home life and the ability to separate the professional from the personal. Most of you, I am sure, have attempted to do this is varying ways, but inevitably the two seem to clash. We are hard pressed to consider our work and the release from that tension as we settle in to the life of a husband or father or mentor.

Our instinct is to be friends with everybody because we want peace and harmony to be the order of the day. Some people become closer friends and some a little distant. That is only natural. We cannot be close friends with everybody. Even in our home environment we are closer to some of our children or grandchildren, not because we love one more than the other, but rather because we gravitate to some more than others. It is the same with friends and neighbors.

Rabbis also find themselves without personal lives because of their dedication. We cannot say to someone who calls in the middle of the night hurting and in need of spiritual guidance: “ We are off duty now. Take two aspirins and call us in the morning.” Or have our phone answered with a message that says, “If this is an emergency hang-up and dial 911.” Sound familiar?

What I am trying to impart is that sometimes people perceive things that don’t really exist. Sometimes we Rabbis are used for convenience by people in order to promote themselves. Sometimes we need to look deeper than the surface to really understand the Rabbi’s role and how important it is for him to be available to everyone regardless of their station or likes and dislikes.

Rabbis normally do not toot their own horns and, in many cases, are reluctant to even speak for themselves in order for it not to appear self-serving. That is probably a flaw in the system, but it is there never-the-less. In fact it reminds me a famous writing in Midrash Rabbah:

“They say to fruit trees: “Why do you not make any noise.” The trees reply: “Our fruit is sufficient publicity for us.”

A Rabbi is a friend to those who have no friends and certainly a friend to those who want to be friends. Because he knows, as a Hasidic folk saying goes: “If you are looking for a friend who has no faults, you will have no friends.”

Something to think about!