So we've been learning the section of Talmud called Baba Metziya, and we recently saw a reference to another section (Baba Kamma), where a tragic "What-If" situation is brought down. What if (G-d forbid) a single mother and her son are killed when their house collapses upon them? To whom does the mother's inheritance go -- to the mother's tribe or to the son's (the son belongs to the tribe of his deceased father, and the mother to the tribe of her father)? To solve this dilemma, Rabbi Akiva invokes the principle of nechnaseem b'chezkatan (the property reverts to the tribe of the most recent owner).
To understand this concept, let's consider a case where Leonardo DiVinci is in the midst of selling a painting of his to Moshe Schwartz. As they are about to complete the deal, there's a freak avalanche in the otherwise serene Italian Alps, and both are killed. The painting, miraculously, survives. To whom is the painting bequeathed? Well, since the deal with Moshe had not been finalized, it was last in the possession of Leonardo. Thus, the Italian people inherit it. It's hard to believe that there is such a bond between and individual and his "tribe" such that even if no member if one's family is alive to inherit, the tribe as a whole can serve as an heir.
Rav Kook didn't find this hard to believe. In Orot HaTshuvah (Lights of Returning), he explains the deep connection between the individual and the klall (world community). He brings a statement from the Talmud Yom Kippur saying that when an individual does teshuva, i.e. when an individual works on understanding and nurturing their relationship with G-d and with others around them, then the entire world does teshuva as well. You become a conduit for G-d's light to come into the world when you do teshuva, so that without even doing anything publicly, the entire public is blessed. Rav Kook is a big proponent of the idea popularized by our friends at Disney, "the Circle of Life." Just as every individual creation is part of a larger natural world, every individual human being is part of a larger human history. When we see ourselves as connected to the world as an organic whole, then we can take steps to develop relationships with G-d and with other people in that whole.
So where do I see this happening? Newton, Massachusetts. Well, not Newton per se, but Newton because that's where my grandparents live. Thank G-d, over the past few years we've become very close. I speak to them every week, sharing with them, learning from them, laughing with them. Rabbi Wein reminded me in his column last Friday that grandparents are guaranteeing the Jewish future of their grandchildren. This week's parsha, Toldot (Descendants), is the first glimpse we get of life after Avraham and Sarah. Last week, Tom S. from our yeshiva shared with us that this would be the week to see how successful they were as parents and grandparents, to see what they left behind. My Ga and Papa are always concerned with what they are going to leave to my sister and me. Not just in terms of money, but in terms of memories, ideals, hopes. If I ever need to know a birthday, phone number, or address in my family, I ask Ga. She always knows. She's kept in touch with a friend from "grammar school", she remembers every friend I've ever had, she's always encouraging me to visit our family in Israel... she wants relationships, connections with people, to be as important to me as they are to her. And Papa, he wants to be sure I'm being creative, "Are you singing? When was the last time you went dancing?" He recognizes the importance of becoming friends with and learning from the other "boys" at the yeshiva, and he wants to be sure I'm thinking about the future -- about the place I'll take in the world when I leave Bat Ayin (which they both hope will be close to Newton).
Unfortunately, at 24 I'm unable to have the incredible perspective that they do. In my quest to grow as an individual, I forget to focus on my connection to the world. I forget that, as Rav Kook says, if you don't have the klall in mind, any steps forward you do take, any success you do have will be a very lonely experience. What good is reaching the proverbial mountaintop if there's no one there to give you a high-five?
I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the Talmud's two thousand-year-old wisdom is still relevant to my path in the world, but I am. I don't think my grandparents are surprised, but maybe they're a little disappointed that I had to go so far away to Israel to learn it... they've been teaching me that lesson all along.