Looking to the Future: The Ethical Will of Rabbi Merle E. Singer
Let me start by saying that I’m still here and not going anywhere. There are a lot of things I want to do, and I hope to have many years to come.
It’s a very old tradition in Judaism to write an ethical will. It is one way of protecting our values through stating plainly what they are, and what is important to us.
For many years I have been creating videos to express my thoughts and to record my feelings about matters that are most important to me. All of these videos, along with the writings I share in in these pages, are what has become my ethical will.
I share this so that my children and grandchildren, and the generations to come in our family will have this record of our family history, and more importantly, so that you may understand how deeply Myra and I held Judaism at the core of our value system, and our family life. In addition, we have always believed that we could find meaning and guidance for the future, by learning about the lessons of the past.
One of the most significant journeys that Myra and I undertook was leading a group of thirty travelers to Poland. This mission was designed to explore our ancestral roots in Eastern Europe, a deeply personal quest for me as I sought to uncover the stories of my family that originated in Poland, and my family connection to the Kotzke Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Morgenstern.
How to Live as Jews
Our enduring challenge has been how to live as Jews in a world that is not predominantly Jewish. This was my personal challenge as a young child whose classmates were all non-Jewish children, and it remains a challenge today for Jews around the world. The stories I encountered in Poland stayed with me to this day, evolving into a desire to document the values and philosophies that Myra and I cherished together and made central to our marriage and family life. These reflections are captured in this video titled “Looking Back to the Future,” the concluding part of the series.
Compassion Without Cause
One of the most important lessons I learned and want to impart is the idea of compassion without cause. Rabbi Menachem Mendel Morgenstern of Kotsk once said that intolerance lies at the core of evil—not the intolerance that arises from any threat or danger, but the intolerance of another who dares to exist. This form of intolerance is deeply ingrained in us, as every human being secretly desires the entire universe for themselves. Our only way out is to learn compassion without cause—to care for each other simply because the other exists.
To my children and grandchildren and the great grandchildren who will join us in days and years to come, may you always find reason to remember to take to heart the concept of compassion without cause.
Balancing Two Worlds
Living as Jews in a world that is not predominately Jewish has always required a delicate balance. Myra’s uncle, Rabbi David Aronson, of blessed memory, spoke of two European cities with castles: Prague and Krakow.
In Prague, there is a unique clock tower with two clocks—one with Roman numerals and the other with Hebrew letters. The Roman numerals turn clockwise, while the Hebrew letters turn in the opposite direction, yet both keep the same time. This ancient tower symbolizes the Jewish need to live in two worlds simultaneously.
photo by Martin Pauer (Power) - Own work, CC BY-SA 2.5, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2211537Throughout Jewish history, great achievements—such as the prayer book, the Talmud, and the books of Jewish mysticism—emerged from the interplay between Jewish and surrounding cultures. Many of our folkways, including the Hanukkah dreidel and potato latkes, have origins in non-Jewish customs. Thus, our Jewish and non-Jewish worlds have enriched one another throughout the ages.
There is an old Yiddish proverb: "You can't dance at two weddings at the same time." The challenge for us is to balance these two worlds. We must preserve our Jewish identity while engaging with the broader world. This task is difficult even in the best of times and becomes nearly impossible during times of deep-seated prejudice and hatred.
Today, we live in a global village. We must weave our Jewish heritage and identities into the larger fabric of this global community. There are risks in both isolation and assimilation. If we isolate ourselves for self-preservation, we lose the richness of being part of the larger world and risk becoming targets of prejudice and persecution. Conversely, if we blend in too much, our Judaism may become almost invisible, leading us to lose our identity.
Weaving Together
Our challenge, your challenge, is to find a way to weave the religious and secular together into one fabric, without losing the unique color and texture of our Jewish thread.
An image from the last night of our "Routes to Roots" Poland mission illustrates the opportunities that await us.
During the Havdalah ceremony, we use a multi-wicked candle. This candle, unique because it is made of several strands woven together, produces a flame greater than the sum of its parts. When we combine the light of our Judaism with that of our Christian and Muslim neighbors, the resulting light is so powerful that no darkness can overcome it.
How to Remember Me
More than what I want to be remembered for, after the tears and love that you share with your family, I will ask that you will look at how you live your own life, and remember that it is daily challenges and opportunities that will encourage you to stand taller and reach higher, so that you will be remembered for your gift to your community, and your friends, and your precious family.
Remember that no matter what you leave in material value, what is most important is the quality of your character. Your legacy is written in your commitment to the people, and the causes that you hold dear.
As our ancestor, the Kotzke Rebbe, has said:
People tend to look upwards, contemplating the mysteries of the heavens. They would do well to look inward and examine what’s happening within themselves.
Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotzk (1787-1859)
To the generations of tomorrow, I offer this model: Identities, strong, and securely built, where we are not afraid to express our differences, are the essence of who or what we are. But then, as we come to know the others in our world, and they us, we are able to go beyond what separates us, to focus upon that which makes us brothers and sisters of one family, and of one God.
When Myra and I were in Berlin, we visited the zoo. While taking pictures of the lions and tigers, I noticed that when I adjusted my camera for a close-up, the bars of their cages disappeared. This phenomenon serves as a paradigm for personal relationships. Strong, secure identities allow us to see beyond what separates us and focus on what unites us.
A Story for the Future
A rabbi once asked his students how they could tell when night had ended and day had begun. One student suggested it was when you could distinguish a dog from a cat in the distance. Another thought it was when you could tell an orange tree from a grapefruit tree. The rabbi said, "It is when you look at the face of any man or woman and see that they are your brother or sister. If you cannot do that, then it is still night, no matter what time it is."
For too long, we have endured darkness. May our children, our children’s children, and all future generations live to see the new dawn of understanding and compassion.
How to Live Your Life
In closing, I will advise you to always be open to learning from your children. This is not always as easy as you might think. I have learned from mine. There are times when I disagreed with your decisions and voiced all of the reasons why I thought you might be making a mistake. Then, over time, and often with your mother’s wise guidance, I was able to learn to trust you to make decisions that are right for you. These are not small challenges.
Learn to be a good listener, and learn to forgive. And it may be very difficult at times, but learn to let go.
Be true to your beliefs, but be flexible in a changing world.
And always, always, make room for music and laughter in your life.
Now it is for the future generations to write your own legacy.
With love,
From your Dad, your Saba Merle and your Sabta Myra
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Merle E. Singer