The Hagbah Shrug

A few weeks ago, in a morning minyan, I saw a gabbai offer hagbah (the honour of lifting the Torah and displaying it to the community after the public Torah reading) to someone near me in shul. He did what I think of as the "Hagbah Shrug", telegraphing in a simple gesture: I don't really want to do this, but I'll do it if you have no one else.

It bothered me.

On one hand, we are taught to humbly refuse honours; see Shulchan Aruch Orach Chaim 53:16, for example, encouraging limited refusal of a request to lead the davening, unless invited by someone of great status. Shunning the spotlight isn't a bad thing; it's a function of humility and of tzniut (privacy).

But on the other hand, refusal strikes me as arrogant, and insulting to the Torah itself. It feels like an expression of indifference. Rav Moshe Sternbuch (Teshuvos v'Hanhagos 2:319) reports that on Simchas Torah, Rav Chaim Brisker would not give away the Torah he was holding at the end of a hakafah, unless someone requested the Torah. This reflects love and respect for the Torah. So what is the message reflected by shrugging, "I'll do it if I must"?

And consider the impact on the next generation. Our teens are already practiced in demonstrating cool disregard for society's honours; it's a natural part of growing up. Do we need to add incentive by showing that everyone does it?

[Not to mention what this does to the poor gabbai; see my 2009 post, Not Me is alive and well in Gabbailand.]

I would suggest an intermediate reaction, displaying respect as well as humility. Perhaps, something along the lines of, "I am honoured to be asked, but I wouldn't mind if someone more worthy would receive it." And if you really don't want to do it, then, "I'm sorry to decline, but I'd really prefer not to, today."

Am I just being hypersensitive?

Of Toys and Treasures and Hagbah and High School

[If you are interested in the Controversial Talmud panel discussion I mentioned here, it is now available on YUTorah.org here, and should be on Koshertube.com soon as well.]

I was recently asked for counsel on explaining to high school-aged boys that hagbah should not be a weight-lifting contest. I came up with the following idea:

The entities surrounding us may be defined, in their relationship with us, as either Treasures or Toys. Treasures are entities we serve; Toys are entities we use to serve ourselves. Or to say it more accurately, it's probably a spectrum of Treasures/Toys, and these entities fit somewhere on that spectrum. And of course, this is not only true regarding objects; this is also true regarding people.

Certain entities begin as Treasures, but evolve into Toys; familarity breeds contempt, after all. Therefore, we establish principles to guard ourselves from forgetting that these are Treasures: Human Dignity (כבוד הבריות), Honouring our Parents (כיבוד הורים), Domestic Peace (שלום בית).

When it comes to religion, we have the honour of the Torah (כבוד התורה), too, so that we don't touch the Torah directly, we don't sit on the same surface with it, and we lift it in a way that displays it to the community with respect. This is important; a religion that becomes a Toy is a poor religion, indeed.

Of course, the division between which items are Treasures and which items are Toys doesn't say much about the items themselves; after all, one man's Toy is another man's Treasure. However, it says a great deal about ourselves. If everything is my Toy, what does that say about me?

So here is my question to you, reader: I think this is a serviceable way to explain the special ways we conduct ourselves around and with a Torah scroll. But is it accurate? Or are there things which are neither Toy nor Treasure?