B"H
The Lessons Gleaned From My (well deserved) Vacation
During my formative years I was basically a good kid. Not perfect, but I certainly tried to listen to what was expected of me. I would usually remain silent in school and was intimidated to ask questions. If I didn’t understand something, I naively thought that it was only me who failed to understand. I went through life hearing about the Ten Commandments but honestly I was unable to comprehend a number of them. When I was ten, murder and adultery were not part of my vocabulary, at least in a literal sense. But the final commandment, “thou shall not covet,” I really had difficulty comprehending. As a child I had no idea of the meaning of the word covet, and I still don’t know anyone who ever uses the word in daily speech. (It may as well have been a five letter word solely intended to be used in Wordle?) I still don’t understand why the translator didn’t use the word ‘desire’ or ‘crave’. It would have made my life and probably the lives of many others so much easier.
We spent the past Shabbat in Zurich, a city that I anticipated to be stately and grand. I imagined seeing wealth and stature, as Zurich is the headquarters of many private Swiss banks. Indeed I walked by the banks named Rothchild and Safra. (Unfortunately, as a United States citizen, my money is no longer accepted for deposit. Their loss.) Of course there was some architectural beauty, but the nicest building I saw was the headquarters for the World Hockey Association. It looked like it had been an old mansion with a manicured lawn. The majority of buildings, however, were low rise pre-war construction with minimal display of opulence.
The underlying reason for my fantasy stems from my relationship with Rabbi Zalman Kossowsky Z’L. He was a member of Anshei Emuna and interim rabbi of the shul for a few months before I arrived. My relationship with him dates back almost 40 years ago when Miriam and I moved to South Africa. Rabbi Kossowsky was the rabbi of Sydenham Highlands North, a shul that was well known across Johannesburg. Every Friday night over a thousand people would attend services to listen to the Chazan and choir. It was a sight to behold and one that I vividly remember.
We were a young married couple and my shul struggled to get a minyan on Shabbat morning. Visiting Rabbi Kossowsky’s shul made me extremely uncomfortable. I, too, aspired to sit up on the bimah and look out at the myriad of people sitting in the pews. In a way I lived vicariously through him and was excited to hear how he had moved on to become a rabbi in Zurich, Switzerland. Once again, in my fantasy, I believed that he left a shul in Johannesburg with a 1,000 people every Friday night, to go to an even bigger community in Zurich. I could only imagine the grandeur of his new position. To be honest, and I never mentioned this to anyone, it was something that remained in my subconscious for many years.
Well, this past Shabbat, I finally fulfilled one of the items on my bucket list. I attended the synagogue on 36 Nuschelerstrasse that had previously been led by Rabbi Kossowsky. Thankfully, there was a bar mitzvah and the shul was relatively full. There were probably less than 100 people in attendance but far more than on a regular Shabbat. We were told that the shul is in the wrong neighborhood and its clientele are apathetic. The building itself is nice but nothing exceptional. (The kiddush however was beautiful; individually portioned delicacies, tastefully plated with magnificent petits fours and sumptuous desserts.)
I don’t think that I’m much different from other people, though what I covet may be vastly different than what other people covet. Our common denominator is that we want what we don’t have. Ultimately, humanity has always been challenged by the commandment to refrain from wanting what other people have. Our sages might teach “eizehu ashir hasomeach bchelko”, “who is the wise person, someone who is satisfied with their lot.” But in truth, it’s a lesson that often goes unheeded.
I vividly remember my mother telling me when I was a child to be happy with my lot as you never truly know the lot of others. We may imagine or fantasize about the lifestyles of the rich and famous, but the heads of Microsoft and Amazon had everything money could buy except for love and serenity at home. Our mind conjures up a parallel universe where everything is always much better or perfect. We often spend decades being envious of that which is just out of our grasp, wasting precious years that will never return.
I knew Rabbi Kossowsky, but I certainly wasn’t his close confidant or friend. I didn’t know his trials and tribulations or why he left Johannesburg. I didn’t know what gave him job satisfaction or why he decided to take a position in Zurich. All I had was my personal covetous fantasy and used his life experiences to imagine the scenario that my mind craved. Looking back in the mirror of reality, the foundation of my fantasy was seriously flawed.
However, in a way that too was for the best. For years I imagined Rabbi Kossowsky’s transition to Zurich, believing in the fantasy I alone had created. It gave me confidence to realize that I too can one day achieve what is beyond my reach. I’m glad I strived to conquer, albeit failing more than once. In truth, my goals and assessment of success have radically shifted. I now view health, happiness, camaraderie and friendship as significantly more important than financial matters. I will never know what Rabbi Kossowsky’s true motivations were, but I’m sure they were vastly different from how I perceived them.
The essence of “Thou shall not covet” lies in the fact that it engages humanity to be honest. How can one covet that which is impossible for them to truly know? I now realize that there are two unique components that may seem confusing. To desire and aspire to better oneself was never the intention of the commandment. On the contrary, it’s important to look up to others in order to gain the confidence needed to build yourself into the person you want to be. I’m inspired by the brilliance and ingenuity of Elon Musk and the talent and longevity of Tom Brady but I have zero interest in my life transforming into theirs. The tenth commandment may only prohibit living your life through the prism of someone else’s life. In hindsight had I known then what I know now, my dreams, hopes and aspirations would have been shortchanged. I was never guilty of violating the tenth commandment. I used his life to better my own but never to mirror his. My life may not be perfect, but now I’m more than content with its imperfections.
Rabbi Jack Engel
PS: This article is dedicated in memory of Walter Srour; a man who dedicated his life to Judaism. He was an inspiration to many of the members of Anshei Emuna.
