The Lamed-Vov

I was preparing to start a Saturday morning Adult Education Discussion Group. We were going to be talking about families, having just seen, “Mi Familia (My Family), the first of our film series, “Families on Film.”

I quickly scooted down the hallway to tend to a last minute errand and passed a young mom and her adorable daughter, whom I guessed to be about five or six years old. I suspected them to be new to Congregation Beth Hatikvah, the Reconstructionist Jewish Congregation that shares our sanctuary and office space.

The little girl held tightly to her mother’s hand, and seemed to cower away from me. I smiled warmly at her and then, looking at her mother smiled and said, “Good morning. Do you need help finding your way anywhere?”

“This is the way to the Nursery, right?” she asked.

“Yup,” I said, “take a right and it’s about ¾ of the way down the hall on your left.”

Just then, someone who was obviously an acquaintance of them both appeared from around the corner, and a lively conversation ensued. I left them and continued my way down the hall.

On my way back, I passed them again. The two adult women were deeply engaged in conversation while the little girl clung to her mother’s side. I smiled again at her. Her eyes met mine in what was an undoubtedly anxious look.

She was, however, bold enough to look me dead in the eye and ask, “Are you Jewish?”

Startled by her question, I said, “Why no, I’m not.”

It was her mother’s response, however, that caught me completely off guard.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay. She’s a good person.”

In equal measure to my startled confusion, the little girl seemed relieved by this. I returned the mother’s kind smile with an authentically bewildered look, but decided it was better not to engage in conversation and walked back to the conference room.

I’ve been haunted by this unexpected exchange all day. I can only imagine what has been this little girl’s experience of being among some who call themselves Christians. You know the kind of Christian I’m talking about. Fundamentalist. Also known as “orthodox evangelicals” – meaning, they have it “right.”

More to the point, the rest of us have it all wrong. Especially the Jews, who “need” to be evangelized so they might “know Jesus as Messiah, the savior and Lord” because, otherwise, they will never get to heaven.

These are the kind of Christians who read the Gospel of John and believe that Jesus is THE ONLY Way, THE ONLY Truth, THE ONLY Life. They see the Jews as the people of “The Old Covenant,” not the “New” and so they are not “saved.”

As if God breaks covenants just because they are “old.”

While, on one level, I admire their enthusiastic embrace and promulgation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, these evangelical folks are sadly misinformed. God never EVER breaks a promise. Not no how. Not no where. Not no way. Yes, not even with the Hebrew Nation.

What God promised to the Jews remains a promise. What God promised to us through our baptism in Christ remains a promise. I think what we need to be more concerned about is keeping the promises we make to God in our baptism. You know. Like the one that says we will “respect the dignity of every human being.”

Oh, right. That one.

I can only imagine what that little Jewish girl has already experienced at the hands of good Christian folk that caused her to ask me, “Are you Jewish?” And, her mother to respond, “Oh, honey, it’s okay. She’s a good person.”

As someone who has been told by some “orthodox Evangelicals” that my faith is “counterfeit,” and that the Gospel I read is a poor imitation of the “authentic” one, I don’t have to struggle to put my imagination to the test.

As I made my way through the rest of the day, I was thinking about the Gospel appointed for tomorrow, Sunday, October 22nd, Pentecost XX, in which James and John argue for a seat of distinction near Jesus “in your glory.” And, Jesus says to them, “You do not know what you ask,” adding, “It shall not be so among you; but whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all.” (Mark 10:35-45)

I remembered a story told by Rachel Naomi Remen, MD, in her book MY GRANDFATHER’S BLESSING. It’s the story of the Lamed-Vov. She writes:

As a child I had loved the story of Noah and the Ark the best of all my grandfather’s stories. He had given me a coloring book that had pictures of all the animals, two by two, and Noah and his wife, looking much like Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus but dressed in different way.

We spent hours coloring in this book together which is how, at almost four, I had learned the names of many animals. We had also discussed the story at length, and wondered about the surprising possibility that even God sometimes makes mistakes and has to send a flood to start over again.

The last picture in the book was a beautiful rainbow. “This represents a promise between God and man, Neshume-le,” my grandfather told me. After the flood, God promises Noah and all of us that it will never happen again.”

But I was not so easily fooled. This whole thing had started because people had been wicked. “Even if we are very naughty, Grandpa?” I asked. My grandfather had laughed then. “That is what it says here in this story.” He looked thoughtful. “But there are other stories,” he told me. Delighted, I asked him to tell me another one.

The story he told me is very old and dates from the time of the prophet Isaiah. It is the legend of the Lamed-Vov. In this story, God tells us that He will allow the world to continue as long as at any given time there is a minimum of thirty-six good people in the human race. People who are capable of responding to the suffering that is a part of the human condition. These thirty-six are called the Lamed-Vov. If at any time, there are fewer than thirty-six such people, the world will come to an end.

“Do you know who these people are, Grandpa?” I asked certain that he would say, “Yes.” But he shook his head. “No, Neshume-le,” he told me, “Only God knows who the Lamed-Vovniks are. Even the Lamed-Vovniks themselves do not know for sure the role they have in the continuation of the world, and no one else knows it either. They respond to suffering, not in order to save the world but simply because the suffering of others touches them and matters to them.”

It turned out that Lamed-Vovniks could be tailors or college professors, millionaires or paupers, powerful leaders or powerless victims. These things were not important. What mattered was only their capacity to feel the collective suffering of the human race and to respond to the suffering around them. “And because no one knows who they are, Neshume-le, anyone you meet might be one of the thirty six for whom God preserves the world,” my grandfather said. “It is important to treat everyone as if it might be so.”

I sat and thought about this story for a long time. It was a different story than the story of Noah’s Ark. The rainbow meant that there would be a happily-ever-after, just as in the stories my father read to me at bedtime. But Grandpa’s story made no such promises. God asked something of people in return for the gift of life, and He was asking it still.

Suddenly, I realized that I had no idea what it was. If so much depended on it, it must be something very hard, something that required a great sacrifice. What if the Lamed-Vovniks could not do it? What then? “How do the Lamed-Vovniks respond to the suffering, Grandpa?” I asked, suddenly anxious. “What do they have to do?”

My grandfather smiled at me very tenderly. “Ah, Neshume-le,” he told me. “They do not need to do anything. They respond to all suffering with compassion. Without compassion, the world cannot continue. Our compassion blesses and sustains the world.”

It is compassion, not “orthodox belief” that blesses and sustains the world.

I can’t be sure, but do believe I met a Lamed-Vovnik today. Anyone who can teach her daughter compassion in the face of the threat of orthodox evangelism is surely a blessing in the sight of God – the One God, the God of Abraham and Sara, who blesses us that we may be a blessing and promises never again to destroy the world.

And God never breaks a promise. Thanks be to God!