Torah

No one knew what to do. The homeless man had charged straight through the lobby of a major office building in New York City, immune to the protests and questions of the well-dressed staff and security guards. “Excuse me, you can’t go in there,” protested the secretary, but to no avail. He stomped right past her, entered the elevator, and rode straight up to the penthouse, where he met the CEO’s private secretary. “Do you have an appointment? You can’t just barge in here like that,” she said with a distinct edge of alarm. But before she could finish her sentence, he stomped past her as well. Bursting into the CEO’s office, the homeless man sat down opposite the CEO, put his feet up on the desk, and smiled. “Hi, Dad,” he said. “How are you doing?”

He had been waiting for hours, and it was finally his turn in line. He could barely contain himself. He had so many questions for this wise sage, so many thoughts on his mind. As he sat down, he could actually feel the sage’s presence, his gentle, thoughtful eyes peering deeply into his own. Suddenly nervous, he managed to smile and stammer out a greeting. The sage sat in perfect silence and then, with deliberation and intent, said, “It is such a pleasure to meet you.”

In our previous article, we began exploring the deeper reason behind our desire to waste time and words. Chazal connect this strange desire to an important historical transition: the transition away from avodah zarah (idolatry) and our loss of nevuah (prophecy). In the modern age, avodah zarah seems foolish, senseless, and pointless. We are no longer enticed by it, and we cannot even grasp how one could be. However, this inability to grasp the appeal of avodah zarah is not incidental. The world has changed, the very inner workings of human consciousness have shifted, and we no longer crave idolatry. However, we no longer crave nevuah and transcendence either, at least not to the same degree. Why is this? What changed?

Years ago, I read about a student who told his history teacher that he was jealous of George Washington. The teacher asked him if he was jealous of all that George Washington had accomplished as an enduring leader, remembered for his integrity and as the founding president of the United States. The student replied that it had nothing to do with any of that. He was jealous of George Washington because he didn’t have to sit in a boring American History class, since American history wasn’t “invented” yet.

To be honest, I had never heard of Charlie Kirk until he was tragically murdered. But I have since learned that he was a staunch defender of moral values and of Israel. He used his natural abilities to reason and debate in order to engage in open dialogue and conversation, something so lacking yet necessary in contemporary society.

The day had finally come. For months, I had been trying to meet this famous sage, renowned not only for his wisdom, but for his beautiful, majestic physical appearance. I had heard the stories, but I wanted to experience it for myself. After what seemed like an eternity, I was finally able to get an appointment.