A sequence of verses in this week’s sedrah gives rise to a beautiful Talmudic passage – one that has found a place in the siddur. It is among the readings we say after Ma’ariv on Saturday night as Shabbat comes to an end. Here is the text on which it is based:
“For the Lord your G-d is G-d of gods and Lord of lords, the great, mighty and awe-inspiring G-d, who shows no favoritism and accepts no bribe. He upholds the cause of the orphan and widow, and loves the stranger, giving him food and clothing” (Deuteronomy 10:17-18).
The juxtaposition of the two verses – the first about G-d’s supremacy, the second about His care for the low and lonely – could not be more striking. The Power of Powers cares for the powerless. The Infinitely Great shows concern for the small. The Being at the Heart of Being listens to those at the margins: the orphan, the widow, the stranger, the poor, the outcast, and the neglected. On this idea, the third century teacher Rabbi Yochanan built the following homily (Talmud Bavli, Megillah 31a):
“Rabbi Yochanan said, ‘Wherever you find the greatness of the Holy One, blessed be He, there you find His humility. This is written in the Torah, repeated in the Prophets, and stated a third time in the Writings.’ It is written in the Torah, ‘For the Lord your G-d is G-d of gods and Lord of lords, the great, mighty and awe-inspiring G-d, who shows no favoritism and accepts no bribe.’
“Immediately afterward it is written, ‘He upholds the cause of the orphan and widow, and loves the stranger, giving him food and clothing.’ It is repeated in the Prophets, as it says, ‘So says the High and Exalted One, who lives forever and whose name is Holy: I live in a high and holy place, but also with the contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite.’ It is stated a third time in the Writings: ‘Sing to G-d, make music for His name, extol Him who rides the clouds – G-d is His name – and exult before Him.’ Immediately afterward it is written, ‘Father of the fatherless and Judge of widows, is G-d in His holy habitation.’ ”
It is this passage that found its way into the (Ashkenazi) service at the end of Shabbat. Its presence there is to remind us that, as the day of rest ends and we return to our weekday concerns, we should not be so caught up in our own interests that we forget others less favorably situated. To care only for those immediately dependant on us, and ourselves, is not “the way of G-d.”
One of the more unusual aspects of being a chief rabbi is that one comes to know people one otherwise might not. These were three moments that made a deep impression on me:
From time to time my wife Elaine and I give dinner parties for people within, and also outside, the Jewish community. Usually, at the end, the guests thank the hosts. Only once, though, did a guest not only thank us but also asked to be allowed to go into the kitchen to thank those who had made and served the meal. It was a fine act of sensitivity. No less interesting was who it was that did so. It was British Prime Minister John Major. Greatness is humility.
The oldest synagogue in Britain is Bevis Marks, in the heart of the City of London. Built in 1701, it was the first purpose-built synagogue in London, created by the Spanish and Portuguese Jews who were the first to return to England after Oliver Cromwell gave permission in 1656 for Jews to return after their expulsion by Edward I in 1290.