I brought a copy of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks’ The Dignity of Difference back in 2002, the year in which it was published. Finally, having lent it to various interested parties, I have got round to reading it. Even if one accepts the view that Rabbi Sacks only ever actually wrote one book, but just said the same things in different ways, I always find ideas that are fresh when I read them, if only because they are expressed in a variety of formats.
Last week I
came across the following passage:
… Morality has had a hard time of it in the past half-century. It has
come to represent everything we believe ourselves to have been liberated from:
authority, repression, the delay of instinctual gratification, all that went
with the religious, puritanical, Victorian culture of our grandparents. Virtues
once thought admirable—modesty, humility, discretion, restraint—are now dusty
exhibits in a museum of the cultural curiosities. Words like ‘duty’,
‘obligation’, ‘judgement’, ‘wisdom’ either carry a negative charge or no
meaning at all…. (at p 78).
If that conclusion
was correct 20 years ago, it seems to me that it is even more so now. If modesty,
humility, discretion and restraint are now “dusty exhibits in a museum of the
cultural curiosities”, how much more so are terms like “wicked”, “sin”, “honour”,
“retribution” and “repentance”, for which there are no obvious acceptable
modern substitutes.
I suspect that one of the main reasons why Pirkei Avot has fallen out of favour with contemporary youth is that it is packed with precepts that are largely alien to their culture. If a typical average uncommitted and unaffiliated teenager were to read its maxims and axioms, he or she would be puzzled by much if not most of its content. Where do the ideas of not being judgemental and of giving others the benefit of the doubt fit in with cancellation culture and the precepts of political correctness? How can a person relate to the notion of reviewing one’s conduct and measuring it against moral yardsticks when the feeling that no-one is truly responsible for their own actions has become so prevalent?
Even where
there is some recognition of the values of Avot, it is sometimes begrudging and
slow to materialise. My own experiences suggest that the idea of returning what
one has borrowed is still acknowledged—but that one does not offer to return that
which has been borrowed until one is asked to return it. Likewise, the
principle that one should acknowledge the truth still holds, but once again it
is often not volunteered and is only acknowledged when a person is confronted with
it.
Taking the
Maharal’s explanation of Avot 1:2 as a starting point, we might hold that every
human being has to deal with three relationships: with God, with other people
and with him/herself. The six chapters Avot between them address each of these
three relationships and offer a spread of suggestions and guidelines as to how
to get the best out of them. Ultimately all three require commitment, forbearance,
patience and practice if they are to yield any sort of meaningful dividend—but no-one
is going to make the effort unless the commitment to do so is already there.
It seems to
me that there is big challenge ahead for those of us who see a benefit in
learning and internalising Avot and who want to spread the word. This is the
challenge to find a sale pitch that will appeal (particularly) to young Jews
who either feel quite happy inside their own skin or who feel that any disquiet
or dissatisfaction they may be experiencing can be addressed by other means
than the practice of a morality-driven self-discipline. For this, neither Rabbi
Sacks nor any other contemporary Jewish scholars offer a solution, probably for
the very good reason that there is none. While the moral malaise is widespread,
the reasons for it and the triggers that might stimulate change are unique to
each individual. All we can do is to spread the word, to make Avot as relevant
and as interesting as we can, and hope that we can persuade others to keep an
open mind for long enough to learn it.