Name-calling: a call for respect

The very first word of the first mishnah of the first chapter of Pirkei Avot is a name: Moshe (“Moses”). This seemingly innocent mention of a name elicits a question from R’ Ovadyah Hedaya (Seh leBet Avot). How could R’ Yehudah HaNasi, when compiling this tractate, refer to Moshe as Moshe? Is there not a well-established principle of Jewish law that a talmid, a pupil, does not call his teacher by his personal name—even after his death?  (Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh De'ah 240:2 and 242:15). Moshe is the teacher of us all, which is why he alone of all our leaders in the Jewish bible, is given the epithet “Rabbenu” (“our teacher”). Is it not then disrespectful for the anonymous author of this mishnah to call this great man “Moshe”, and for R’ Yehudah HaNasi, when redacting it, to leave it unamended?

R’ Hedaya offers an answer. Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi is entitled to refer to the humblest of all men as “Moshe” because it is not his real name. Following his birth he would have received a name from his parents, and it is only once Pharaoh’s daughter has found and claimed him that he is given the name Moshe with the explanation Ki min hamayim mishisihu (“For I drew him from the water”: Shemot 2:10).

Although the Torah refers to him as Moshe throughout the rest of the Torah, this is out of respect for the noble life-saving action of his rescuer. In essence, however, it is only a substitute for the name that it would be disrespectful for us, his talmidim to call him. And what was his birthname? The Torah does not record it, but midrash puts forward no fewer than 10 of them. R’ Hedaya suggests Tov (per R’ Meir at Sotah 12a) or Tuvyah (per R’ Yehudah, ibidem).

Notions as to what constitutes respect clearly vary in time and space and as between the generations. When I attended school in London back in the 1950s and later in the more permissive age of the “Swinging 60s”, no child would dare to call a teacher by their first name to their face, though we all did behind their backs. Now in Israel I note that practices are very different, depending on the school, and its religious orientation.

Slightly changing the subject, I’d like to invite further exploration of the way we refer to one another.

Later in Avot we learn that one should not embarrass another person in public (Avot 3:15). Though it may not be immediately apparent, this has a good deal to do with names. Within the Jewish community there are many people who prefer to use their Hebrew name because their “English name”, which appears on their birth certificates and in their passports, causes them embarrassment. To call them by the name their parents chose for them may not only embarrass them but can cause considerable offence.

This same applies not only to Jews but to everyone, regardless of religion, race and nationality. Over the years I have had numerous friends who have sought to bury their awkward or unloved forenames or middle names, and I expect that I am far from alone in witnessing people being teased for having names that caused them grief.  

The use of an embarrassing if genuine name is not always intended to be hurtful. Often the offenders are parents who chose a child’s name with a very good reason and who, having always used that name, find it difficult or upsetting to switch to another.

Ultimately, it seems to me, our objective should be to avoid upsetting or annoying others. We should give them their due respect, however apparently trivial their feelings may seem to us.  This is part and parcel of R’ Chanina ben Dosa’s advice (Avot 3:13) that, if we want our actions to be pleasing to God, we should act in such a way as to make them pleasing to our fellow humans too.

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A rabbi by any other title?

Shortly before the end of this year’s festive season our friend and greatly appreciated commentator Claude Tusk sent Avot Today this devar Torah for Simchat Torah, the celebration of both the conclusion of our Torah readings and their immediate recommencement. This short, timely and well-delivered devar Torah is based on Pirkei Avot, in particular on Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel’s much-debated contention that it is not the study of Torah which is the main thing, but the performance of its precepts (Avot 1:17).

This devar Torah first cites the opinion of R’ Kalonymus Kalman Shapira that a person who learns Torah but does not implement it is like a bookshelf: he holds much knowledge but is judged to be no more than a piece of wood. R’ Nosson Tzvi Finkel is also quoted: he explains that the value of Torah is inseparable from its active implementation since the role of Torah is to enable one to transform oneself into a different, improved person—and it is only by putting one’s Torah learning into action that one properly internalises it.

Aside from the content of the devar Torah, the issue I want to discuss, one on which I suspect many readers may wish to comment, is that its author, one Rabbi Avi Strausberg, turns out to be a woman.

As a traditional orthodox Jew I am most comfortable with the position that “rabbi” is a title and a status that is conferred upon the male of the species. On the other hand I am happy to attend shiurim given by women; I buy and read works of Jewish scholarship written by women and have greatly benefited from their learning. I respect them both as fellow human beings and as Jewish leaders and scholars in their own right—but for me, on a personal basis, the title “rabbi” refers to a man.

Can I, should I, refer to Avi Strausberg as “Rabbi” in this post? What guidance does Avot give me?

I actually first encountered this issue when I was Registrar of the London Beth Din. I had to write a letter to a (male) minister of a provincial English community who styled himself “rabbi”, even though he did not hold semichah from any recognised authority. I was asked to write to him, with the full authority of the Beth Din, to inform him that he was not recognised as a rabbi and must not refer to himself as such. I asked Dayan Chanoch Ehrentreu, who was Rosh Beth Din at the time and someone whose orthodox credentials were beyond challenge, how I should address the letter and the envelope in which the letter was to be delivered to him.

The Dayan’s answer came instantly and without equivocation. I was to address this person as “Rabbi” both in my letter and on the envelope containing it. He explained: as a matter of kavod, of the respect that any human is required to show to another, one should always give a person the title that he (or she) uses for him- or herself. To do otherwise would be frankly rude and certainly not in keeping with the need to show kavod to others. The source for this is Ben Zoma’s teaching at Avot 4:1: “Who is respected? The person who respects others…”.  I have followed this guidance ever since.

One might add that a letter to someone who calls themselves “Rabbi” which is addressed to “Mr”, “Miss”, “Mrs”, “Ms” or whatever might generate personal embarrassment if that letter is seen and read by others—and embarrassing others in public should also be avoided (see R’ Elazar HaModa’i at Avot 3:15).

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Dealing with conspiracy theorists

Most problems I have with my fellow humans these days can easily be dealt with by a clear and direct application of one or more maxims drawn from Pirkei Avot. But this is not a magic formula and there are times when my normally successful policy of using Avot as my moral compass is clouded with uncertainty. Here is a case in point.

I have among my friends a very sweet gentleman of relatively advanced years. He is an honest and upright citizen. He makes charitable donations, attends synagogue regularly, greets others with a warm smile and likes to help people when he can. But—and for me this is a major but—he is an ardent believer in a number of so-called conspiracy theories. Even harder for me, even though he does not say so in as many words, he assumes that his friends and acquaintances share his beliefs and seems a little hurt when he discovers that they don’t.

 I’m reluctant to argue with my friend about the validity or veracity of the theories to which he subscribes. This is not just because I don’t like to upset him but also because a key feature of every good conspiracy is that it is impossible to disprove. Avot charges us to accept the truth when we encounter it (Avot 5:9); it is, after all, one of the three means through which the world endures (Avot 1:18). It is also one of means through which one acquires mastery of the Torah (Avot 6:6). But how does one establish the truth in the first place, when every fact that one offers up as a challenge to a fanciful theory is dismissed as being part of a cover-up by the conspiratorial authorities in order to bar us from access to the ‘real’ truth.

Elsewhere Avot tells us to learn how we should answer an apostate (Avot 2:19), but my friend is not a heretic. We are also charged with distancing ourselves from a bad neighbour and with taking care not to link up with someone who is wicked (Avot 1:7) —but my friend is neither of these things.  On the other hand I don’t want to leave him with the last word in any conversation with me because, if I do not contradict him, he will assume that I agree with him.

My problem appears to be echoed by the words of the wise king Solomon (Proverbs 26:4-5). He first says אַל-תַּעַן כְּסִיל כְּאִוַּלְתּוֹ פֶּן-תִּשְׁוֶה-לּוֹ גַם-אָתָּה (“Do not answer a fool according to his folly, in case you act like him”) but then offers the opposite advice too: עֲנֵה כְסִיל כְּאִוַּלְתּוֹ פֶּן-יִהְיֶה חָכָם בְּעֵינָיו (“Do answer a fool according to his folly, in case he becomes a wise man in his own eyes”). 

So how should I respond when my friend buys into his conspiracy theories and expects me to agree with him? Suggestions, anyone?

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With great respect! Honouring others today

The background

It is inevitable that some bits of Pirkei Avot are more popular and more frequently cited than others. Even within the same mishnah some teachings are clearly more favoured. A good example is Avot 4:1, where Ben Zoma asks and answers four questions: who is (i) wise, (ii) strong, (iii) rich and (iv) honoured? Modern writers tend to cite and discuss the first three questions much more frequently than the fourth.

A possible explanation of this bias is that we are daily more concerned with matters of wisdom and the acquisition of knowledge, with inner and outward strength and with wealth than we are with issues involving honour. The notion of according honour to others does have a somewhat archaic, almost chivalric, sound to it—and, in days gone by, honour was something to which a person was principally entitled by virtue of status. Thus honour was part of the package of benefits to which one might be entitled if one were a monarch, the kohen gadol (high priest), a regular kohen, a Torah scholar, someone who had reached an advanced age, or a parent.

The Hebrew text of the fourth part of Avot 4:1 opens with:

אֵיזֶהוּ מְכֻבָּד, הַמְּכַבֵּד אֶת הַבְּרִיּוֹת

This is usually translated along the lines of “Who is the person who is honoured? The one who honours [other] people”.

There then follows a proof verse:

שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: כִּי מְכַבְּדַי אֲכַבֵּד וּבֹזַי יֵקָֽלּוּ

As it is said: “For those who honour Me I will honour, and those who treat Me insultingly, they will be made light of” (I Samuel 2:30).

The problem

The word translated in this mishnah as “honour” is kavod. The accuracy of this translation is beyond challenge and it is accepted in all the leading translations of Pirkei Avot. However, there is a problem in terms of colloquial nuance. “Honour” is a word that suggests in many circumstances something special and perhaps unusual; it not a term that crops up on a daily basis in our speech. This means that the relevance of Ben Zoma’s teaching in our everyday lives is minimised.

Ben Zoma clearly did not intend the word kavod to apply only to kings, high priests, parents and lofty personages. This is plain from his stipulation that the person who is honoured is one who honours all other people: the object of one’s kavodis beriot (literally “creations”), meaning “all other people by virtue of the fact that they have been created, not by virtue of their status or office”.

Many years ago Rabbi David Rowe suggested to me that the word kavod might in many contexts be more appropriately translated as “respect”, and it seems to me that this meaning of the word works very well here. While we may think it strange—and even somewhat facetious--to speak of the need to “honour” a storekeeper, taxi driver, waitress, healthcare receptionist or bank clerk, it makes good sense to view our relationships with them in terms of respect. And if we respect them in the way we speak to them and deal with them, it is unsurprising that they should reciprocate by treating us with respect too, even if this does not automatically on every single occasion.

The questions

How, then, should we go about respecting other people? I’ve listed some random suggestions below. Of the items listed, some are already included elsewhere in Pirkei Avot or are arguably mitzvot in their own right. They are, in no particular order:

• Greet others in a pleasant manner.
• Address others by their name if you know it, but don't call them by their first name where it would be inappropriate to do so.
• Speak to others in a calm tone of voice, regardless of one’s mood.
• Don’t stare into space or check your phone when someone is speaking to your face.
• Don’t interrupt others but let them finish what they are saying before you next speak.
• Don’t put the phone down on someone before the conversation is concluded.
• If you disagree with others, at least offer to give them a reason.If you are unable to keep a promise made to another person, tell that person rather than let them find out for themselves.
• When you have an appointment or are meeting someone at a specified time, do not be late and keep the other person waiting.

This is an “entry level” list, to apply to everyone else. Obviously, one may be obliged to do more when dealing with people whose status entitles them to receive a greater degree of respect, or even actual honour. Do you agree with these suggestions—and can you add to them?

Letting others be heard

The change of government in Israel has attracted much comment, both domestically and abroad. Analysts have looked at the advantages and disadvantages of the new coalition, its strengths and its weaknesses. Some have even looked at its proposed legislative programme and its chances of turning it into law. There is however one topic that has received very little comment: the appalling standard of behaviour of many of the Members of the Knesset (MKs).

Pirkei Avot (at 5:9) teaches that one of the seven signs of a golem is that he or she interrupts the words of someone else who is speaking. Presumably this applies equally to someone who howls and screams when someone else attempts to speak, thus effectively preventing them from being held at all. Applying this standard to MKs, I am concerned that the golems in the Knesset could form a coalition of their own, since there sadly seem to be more than 61 of them -- from both the religious and the non-religious parties.

Avot also reminds us of the inconvenient fact that all of us -- even MKs -- are created in the image of God (3:18). One might feel tempted to draw from this mishnah the conclusion that one should at least accord some outward form of respect to other people, whatever thoughts we may cherish in our hearts and minds.

This post does not intend to recite some of the disgusting things said, and the disgraceful dispersions cast, by MKs on one other, whether inside the Knesset or beyond it -- comments, slurs and allegations that have nothing to do with party politics. It only wishes to make the point that it is only by paying respect to others that we are entitled to receive any respect ourselves (4:1). Regretfully, this post records that far too many MKs have placed themselves beyond any entitlement to receive respect from this quarter.

It would be a wonderful thing if Israel's Jewish parliamentarians could reflect a small corner of their Jewish heritage by behaving and speaking towards one other in a more appropriate manner, especially when the eyes of the world are upon them.