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Rabbi Mordecai Miller


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New Year Greeting
From Rabbi Mordecai Miller

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2010
2006:

Negative Space - June 2006

2005:
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2003:

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March 2003:

Angels


“That’s a great DVD player!”
The words were coming from a man and a woman standing behind me. I was in line getting ready to check out of the drugstore and eyeing the stack of boxes which contained the instruments in question. A sign above proudly displayed the price: $79.99.
It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Already the newspapers were filled with full color supplements heralding the full onslaught of the 2002 shopping season. The latest in electronic devices were certainly among the most prominent temptations. As a full-blooded consumer in our “Consumer Society,” I felt it my patriotic duty to study these offerings with great attention. I took special notice of the various kinds of DVD players and the various prices they commanded.
I can honestly tell you that “$79.99” was a pretty good deal, but what about the quality? Would it be broken within the month?
“We bought the exact same player at Sam’s Warehouse about two months ago for twenty dollars more ” continued the woman, “and it’s been just great!”
“That’s one good price!” added the man.
Even as I was wondering if the drugstore had hired these people, I had decided that they must be telling me the truth. After all, Heaven forbid that Mordecai Miller should be a lagging indicator. My patriotic duty lay before me. It was my turn to be served by the cashier.
“I think I’d like to buy one of these DVD players.”
Her reply caught me off guard.
“They’re going on sale this Thursday for $59.99.”
“I think I can wait three days,” I said. “Thanks so much for telling me.”
The box was respectfully returned to its original position. I left the store having purchased what I had originally planned.
Sure enough, that Thursday the players were selling for $20.00 less. I’m only sorry I didn’t buy two!
I remember over ten years ago visiting New York city. I took the opportunity to visit my dad’s grave. I was staying with my sister in Manhattan. The Old Montefiore Cemetery was in Queens. The visit involved catching two subways and then the bus. The subway ride didn’t phase me in the least, but I was totally unfamiliar with the Queens bus system. I had no idea what bus I was supposed to catch, but my sister informed me that the bus stop right near the subway station would have the right bus.
To anyone who says that New Yorkers aren’t friendly to visitors, I can only tell you that the bus driver on the very first bus I checked couldn’t have been more helpful.
“You’ll need a transfer,” he said, punching the ticket I was going to require. “I’ll let you know where to make it and which bus you need to catch.”
I climbed on board and sat as close to him as the law would allow. I arrived at the cemetery without a hitch.
Coming back was no problem. It turned out that it only took one bus to get back to the subway.
The train I caught turned out to be a “Local.” I was rapidly becoming familiar with every station along the line. Finally, we arrived at an “Express” stop. I peered out the window and saw an Express train across the platform. I jumped out of my seat and sprinted towards the train.
At the very same moment a man was running down the platform. As we passed he yelled out, “That train isn’t going anywhere!”
I took another look and saw that there wasn’t a soul on board the Express. I barely had enough time to jump back on the train I’d left, but I was awfully thankful.
All coincidences?
Given the time and space, I could give you quite a few more examples.
Perhaps they are all coincidence. I’d prefer to think that every time we experience some out-of-the-ordinary kindness from a stranger, we’re being touched by an angel.
More importantly; every moment we act with such kindness to strangers, we become messengers of God.
You guessed it...Angels!

Earlier articles:

Right and Privilege

Monday, Labor Day, seven o'clock in the morning; the streets of downtown Clayton were deserted as I drove south on Brentwood after dropping my son off at his early morning football practice. I waited for the green arrow at the traffic light right opposite the Clayton Swimming Pool to make the left turn onto Bonhomme. The regular light was green, but the sign clearly read Left turn on green arrow only.

I waited; not a single car was coming up the street in the opposite direction. I waited some more as the light went through its cycle, turning red in my direction and green for any traffic that might want to make the turn from Bonhomme onto Brentwood; still not a single car. Then, finally, I got the green arrow and made the turn.

In my head I was asking myself, Am I being ridiculous? There isn't another moving vehicle to be seen, and here you are, waiting at a stoplight, refusing to make a perfectly safe move, simply because a sign is telling you you aren't allowed to go!

I pondered about the amazing way that a social contract can operate. I felt duty bound to observe a traffic ordinance - even in this unlikely situation - as an acknowledgment of my license to drive - not my right to drive.

Contrast this to a very different set of streets, in Bogot‡, Colombia. Here people quite literally take their lives into their hands every time they get into a car. Here one comes across a sign that reads, ÒPlease obey the traffic signs.(I always wondered why people who didn't care to observe traffic signs would observe this sign!) Is driving here a right or a privilege?

It all boils down to this: Is Life a right or a privilege?

If it's a right, then I suppose we can be justified milking it with everything in our power. If it's a privilege, then we bear a responsibility to earn that privilege; to play by the rules.

Considering Life a privilege is a matter of conscience and consciousness: of discovering what's right and wrong; of studying the past and learning from our own experiences, and acting accordingly. For this we have a Tradition - a Torah - to give us a sense of our greater responsibility and to help us learn from our past.

How we respond defines who we are as human beings.

It remains a privilege to serve you!

 

Shalom
Mordecai Miller

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