WHAT IS YOUR ONE WISH?

Chaim Bialik, one of Israel’s great poets, once found himself walking through the very religious neighborhood of Meah Shearim, in Jerusalem, looking for a synagogue. Coming across a young child in the street, Bialik asked him, “Where’s the synagogue?”

The child replied, “The synagogue is only for Jews, not for non-Jews.”  To which Bialik retorted, “ Why do you think I ’ m not Jewish?  The child answered, “ Because you are not wearing a kippah. ”  Bialik, looking up to the heavens, said, all of heaven is my kippah. The boy, looking up at him, said, “That’s far too big a kippah for such a small head.”

We are approaching Rosh Hashanah 5781 and after we all went threw in the past six months it is time to think. So, my question: If G-d were to say to you on this special day of Rosh Hashanah, “I am prepared to grant you one wish. Anyone think you want, you may have,”

What would you answer?

In the Bible, we are told that G-d did in fact once confront a person with this very question. The story appears in the Book of Kings,  just after the death of King David. Solomon, his young son, has succeeded him, and one night, right at the beginning of his reign, G-d appears to Solomon in a dream  and says, “As a final courtesy to your father David, and to help you be an effective monarch in his place, I am prepared to grant you one wish. Anyone think you want, you may have.”

Solomon is overcome by the great burden and grave responsibilities he has inherited, and tells G-d, “You have set me on my father’s throne, but I am only a young man and my experiences are few. I don’t know how to rule this great people.” He ponders for a few moments, trying to decide what he should ask of the Creator at such a moment.

Solomon’s first instinct is to ask for a long and healthy life, so he can take pleasure in his long rule. His second instinct is to ask for great riches so as to enjoy the splendor of his kingdom. Next, he thinks to ask for the downfall of his enemies in order to enjoy a peaceful and tranquil reign.

But what does Solomon actually request?

He turns to G-d and says, “If I can really have any one thing, what I most want is wisdom and a sensitive heart, so that I may rule and judge your people wisely.” Concern over his noble relationships with others is Solomon’s primary interest. G-d, particularly pleased by Solomon’s request, says:

“You could have asked for a long life or great wealth or victory over your enemies. But you did not think of yourself; instead, you’ve asked for wisdom to judge others fairly. Your wish will be granted. And although you did not ask for great wealth, long life, or honor, you shall have these, too.

In service to his people, in judging them fairly, in establishing noble relationships with them,

Solomon would find riches, honor, and long life.

What a remarkable passage. What a valuable message for us today, as we ascend the throne of life for a new year. The true riches of life do not lie in amassing for ourselves, but in the sensitive heart that learns to act kindly and wisely with others.

In the 1800s a Russian Jew by the name of Wissotzky established the Wissotzky Tea Company in Moscow and quickly became one of the country’s most prosperous tea distributors. He also had the honor of being the exclusive tea supplier for the Czar's military. Since the army boasted millions of soldiers, for whom tea drinking was a daily Russian ritual, Wissotzky became very wealthy.

One day Wissotzky was approached by some Jews from Israel, then known as Palestine, who asked him to invest in building a tea company in the Holy Land. Wissotzky laughed at this preposterous idea. The Turks governed Palestine at the time, and they were notoriously difficult to deal with. Besides, he pointed out, Palestine could not produce its own tea, and tea leaves from India were far too costly to import.

After mulling over the idea for a while, however, he realized many Jews lived in the Holy Land with no livelihood and often without sufficient food for their families. What better way to contribute to Jewish life in Israel than to build a factory and offer jobs to the needy Jews living there? Mr. Wissotzky built the factory without any hope that it would bring in a profit. It was, first and foremost, a charitable act.

In 1917, the Czar and his army were swept from power. The communists seized every business, including Wissotzky's Tea Company. After the revolution, the only asset the Wissotzky family had left was the company established in Palestine before the revolution, and thus, there they fled to rebuild the business.

Over the following decades, Wissotzky’s grew rapidly, expanding within Israel and eventually across the world. Now run by fifth-generation family members, Wissotzky’s produces more than 200 different products. In 2005, after an 80-year hiatus, they even began selling tea in Russia again. Today, they lead the tea sector in Israel, outselling all their competitors, with a market share of about 80%!

When Mr. Wissotzky built a company in Israel he wasn’t thinking of wealth or honor; his wish was to help the Jewish community in Israel. What did he get in return?

Riches and honor and an enduring company, with a long life!  

Told by G-d that he could ask for anything in the world and it would be granted, Solomon had asked for wisdom, for a heart that would be sensitive and know right from wrong.

How did this wisdom manifest itself?

You know the story. In the very next chapter, two women appear before Solomon with a newborn baby, each claiming to be the rightful mother. Solomon orders the baby to cut down the middle and each claimant gave half. The true mother cries, “No, let her have the child, but let him live!” and Solomon recognizes her as the true mother.

That story reminds me of a small nineteenth-century Russian shtetl, where two families negotiate with a prominent yeshiva to provide two top students as husbands for their daughters. The two young men set out for the town. En route, their wagon is attacked by Cossacks, and sadly, one of the young men is killed. When the survivor finally arrives in the town, a fight breaks out between the mothers of the two unmarried girls: each claiming that the young man is the intended groom for her daughter. The man himself can shed no light on the matter and the women cannot come to an agreement, so the case is brought before the local rabbi.

“Cut the boy in half,” the rabbi finally rules, “and let each girl be given half of his body.” “Oh, no!” the first mother says, “don't kill him. My daughter will give up her claim.” “Go ahead and cut,” the second mother says.
 The rabbi points to the second woman, “ That is the mother-in-law.”

Joking aside, Solomon recognizes the true mother. How did he know what to do? Solomon had never been a mother, but he knew what a mother's heart would feel. The mother who loved would give her child away because to love is to know how to give away what is rightfully yours.

An elderly Chossid recalls being a young boy at a train station in Russia. He saw a man on a departing train smoking a pipe. As the man waved good bye, he removed one of his expensive gloves to better grasp the pipe. Unluckily the glove fell out of the window and onto the platform.

An attentive porter quickly snatched it up and ran alongside the moving train, but without success. The train pulled away. The man on the train smiled to the running porter, took off his other glove, and tossed it out the window, yelling, “I hope they fit you.”

That image stayed with the Chossid for the rest of his life. To learn how to graciously let go, to give away even what is rightfully yours, is a wonderful trait to acquire.

In an argument with a spouse, just give up the need to be right, to win. Love is the ability to graciously let go, and without it, we destroy what we cherish the most.

Success in relationships is not about having the last word, but about offering words that heal and bring us closer. In loving others, in bringing joy to others, we gain strength and purpose and happiness — our lives and homes become enriched.

Solomon’s request of G-d tells us how to live an enriched life, but as we commence a new year there are people today feeling sad. They are disappointed in the way their lives have turned out during Covid, the way their careers have turned out during Covid, the way their children have turned out during Covid. There are people today asking the question, “How do we begin a new year, feeling happy after Covid? Life has so much pain and rejection.”

The cure for loneliness, for rejection and abandonment, for that depressing feeling that your life is pointless, the cure is to find someone to help. Don't stay home and wait for others to rescue you from your loneliness. Be the one who comes to other people's rescue.

Shlomo Riskin, Chief Rabbi of Efrat, Israel, tells the story7  of an Israeli couple that had an unusually loving relationship. He wondered what their secret ingredient was. Then he discovered it.

One day, the young woman, Naomi, appeared at his door. “Excuse me Rabbi, but I have a sensitive question to ask you, and I hope it's all right to do so.”

The question that unfolded was unique to the Israeli experience, one Riskin had not encountered in all of his previous nineteen years at the Lincoln Square Synagogue in Manhattan.

Naomi's first husband had been killed several years earlier in the Lebanon War. She was left with a baby girl and had remarried sometime before she came knocking at the Rabbi’s door. “Tomorrow is the memorial service on the date of death for my first husband at the cemetery where he is buried. We had a wonderful marriage and were blessed with a daughter. I'm now remarried and I love my present husband very much. Would it be disrespectful to him if I attended the memorial ceremony for my first husband?”

Certainly, the issue was complex. Nevertheless, Rabbi Riskin explained to the woman that a new relationship, as good as it may be, did not obliterate the relationship that had been. This was especially true if her first marriage had been blessed with a daughter. He advised her to attend the memorial.

Not an hour later, a young man whom he recognized as Naomi's present husband rang his doorbell. His heart immediately sank. Was the husband upset at his decision? Had he advised too quickly about a situation which was not in the orbit of his personal experience, and about which there was no clear Jewish legal ruling?

When the husband began to speak, however, it became clear that he knew nothing of his wife's visit. As if Riskin were totally oblivious to this previous history, he told him the story of the

impending memorial. “I never really knew my wife's former husband. But he loved and nurtured a woman whom I now love; he gave his life for my country, and I have the privilege of rearing and loving his daughter. Rabbi, do you think it would be proper for me to honor him by attending the memorial service?” Riskin said that he certainly should.

Naomi and her husband were able to express such awesome sensitivity to others in the midst of tragedy. And like Solomon, in the well-being of the other, they found their own lives enriched with love.

So friends, as we ascend the throne of life for a new year, what is your one wish today?

Let us do as Solomon did, and look beyond the natural instinct to pray just for the length of days, wealth health, and honor. Let us pray for wisdom, for a wise and sensitive heart that will know how to love and lift others. And when we act on behalf of something beyond our own well-being, we will find true riches, honor, and a long and blessed life. Amen!

Shabbat Shalom and Shana Tova,

Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky