Don't live in the moment! Presentism, Eternalism and Yom haMeyuchas (Derashah, Bamidbar 5773)

I was asked to speak this Shabbos, and I've come up with the following draft text. [You may recognize the first idea from this 2009 post.]

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Good Yom Tov, Chag Sameach! 
 

Today, the second day of Sivan, has a special name, Yom haMeyuchas. People often use the term "yichus" to describe special family connections, but "yichus", literally, means "association", or "relationship".  The second day of Sivan is called Yom haMeyuchas  because it has good associates: Yesterday was Rosh Chodesh, the first day of the month, a day of special status, and tomorrow is the first day of the biblical preparation period before the Torah was given at Sinai. That makes today Yom haMeyuchas, a day with illustrious associates.

The idea that a day can enjoy special status due to its neighbours is not exclusive to the second day of Sivan; the Talmud[1] lists several special days when we don't fast or we don't offer tearful eulogies, because those precede or follow key celebrations. The days themselves lack celebratory characteristics, but the status of their aristocratic neighbours offers reflected glory.

In truth, the concept of Reflected Glory is not necessarily a good thing. Look at our entire world, which appears to live in Yom haMeyuchas mode in a most unhealthy way. We clamour for autographs from benchwarming ballplayers, we drop the names of former classmates who have gone on to greatness, we talk about great-uncles and third-cousins who have just published a hit novel or who appear in a new movie, we go to great lengths to see and be seen. [Case in point: My Facebook post here.]

But there is also a benefit to hanging around in good company: choose good friends, and they will influence you positively. This is not the pursuit of reflected glory; rather, it is the pursuit of personal glory, through glorious role models.[2]

[Derashah Mechanics note: I omitted the following paragraph when I spoke. It is on point, but keeping this in adds too much weight to the point about glorious role models, and I really want to spend the listeners' attention span on the point coming next, not this one.] This week, in the weekly cycle of Pirkei Avos, we learn the sixth chapter, and the story of Rabbi Yosi ben Kisma, who was offered great wealth to move away from his circle of talmidei chachamim and become a scholar in residence in a city bereft of scholarship. Rather than embrace the opportunity with pioneering spirit, Rabbi Yosi ben Kisma committed himself to remain in the residence of sages from whom he could learn. Of course there is value in outreach, and the tension between seeking good associates and creating community independently is a good topic for discussion, but Rabbi Yosi ben Kisma made a clear statement that being meyuchas, having good associates and role models, was central for him.

So perhaps this simple idea is the message of Yom haMeyuchas: Associate with positive role models. But it is also possible that Yom haMeyuchas has another message for us, a deeper message.

Presentism[3] is a school of philosophy found in some early Christian thinkers[4] and among Buddhists,[5] and even put to use by some Jews. According to Presentism, the past isn't real, and the future isn't real either; at any given moment, the people alive, the objects in existence, are the only things that are real.

Presentism is important in abstract philosophy in addressing questions like how objects change and in calculating how many dimensions the universe has, but I would like to borrow it from its context for a concrete application: Believing in presentism allows me to declare that no matter who I was yesterday or the day before, I am someone new today, and I will be someone new yet again tomorrow. The past is empowered with neither veto nor vote over my identity; חדשים לבקרים, each morning I become a new person.

This Presentist philosophy can be spiritually healthy; it can encourage us to break with old habits, to re-set dysfunctional relationships, to power our way out of a rut and chart a new course. Think of the inspiring example of R' Elazar ben Durdaya, and the way Rebbe noted that a single moment can change one's world.[6] There is a certain reassurance that comes from dislodging the moment from the timestream. It is not for naught that Jewish tradition has preserved, in various forms, the adage, העבר אין והעתיד עדיין וההווה כהרף עין – דאגה מניין? – The past is nothing, the future has yet to come, the present is the blink of an eye – so why worry? [For possible sources of this adage, see http://www.bhol.co.il/forum/topic.asp?topic_id=2393081&forum_id=19616.] Indeed, there is much to be said for Presentism - and on another day I might give a derashah praising it.

But Presentism is of limited use because it is an illusion; of course yesterday impacts today, and of course today impacts tomorrow! And so we turn to a different philosophy, which matches what we experience in our own lives.

Eternalism, the opposite of Presentism, is this philosophy. Eternalism argues that Time is a continuity, each moment equally real. The past is real, the future is real; they are just far away at the moment.

In the practical world, Eternalism makes significant sense. As Rav Kook noted,[7] everything that I do today is a product of my experiences in the past. There is always an influence from yesterday to today. In a sense, what I do today passes judgment on what I experienced in the past; if I do something good today, that shows that my past was positive. Moving forward, what I do tomorrow will pass judgment upon that which I did today. And so on.

So let's return to Yom haMeyuchas. As the Jew approaches Har Sinai and prepares to receive the Torah, it is tempting to apply Presentism. Yesterday I was a human being like any other, a Noachide, and then, on the second day of Sivan, Gd tells me, "You shall be a kingdom of priests, a holy nation,[8]" and I become something new, a Jew, with a covenant and a set of expectations.[9] It’s an instantaneous change, from Bnei Noach to Bnei Torah, from slaves of human beings to freely serving worshippers of the Divine, and perhaps the people we once were, pre-Torah, have no influence upon the people we are after we enter the brit.

Yom haMeyuchas, though, teaches us that the second day of Sivan is not only the day when Gd tells us we are holy. It is also the day after Rosh Chodesh, when we arrived at Sinai. It is also the day before the period of intense preparation to receive the Torah. This day exists in an influential chronological context.

The same is true for the nation. The Jews who leave Egypt were formed by three patriarchs and four matriarchs who bequeathed to them a legacy of courage and faith and love and fire. They descend from siblings who quarreled and spouses who persevered and slaves who refused to be beaten down but instead embraced their beliefs and called upon Gd. This nation is Meyuchas! They have so much to draw on.

_________ and __________, at the end of a recent day the sun set and the stars came out and you turned from 12 to 13, but the past twelve years of your existence, the many generations who preceded you on this planet, were not erased. You are Meyuchas, you have great ancestors, a loving family, great teachers, good friends, and twelve years of life and education. You are Meyuchas to each other, as twins, too! The teenage years are a period of reinvention, as they should be, but draw on your past as you shape your future.

And the same is true for all of us, us Meyuchasim – not only in terms of learning from our past, but also in terms of planning our future. And more: The moves we make today - speaking a kind word or offering a listening ear, picking up a sefer, giving tzedakah, pausing to think before saying a berachah, thinking about davening instead of turning to talk to a friend - all of these are not only about today, but also about tomorrow. Today is not the only Yom haMeyuchas, the only day influenced by its neighbours! Tomorrow will also be a Yom haMeyuchas, for today will be its influence. Who do we want to be tomorrow, and what are we doing today in order to get there?

Chag Sameach! Happy Yom haMeyuchas – and may our every day be a Yom haMeyuchas, too.

Yom haMeyuchas Sameach!

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[1] Taanit 17b-18b

[2] Cf. Avot 4:14, 4:15, and 6:9, as well as R' Elazar ben Arach in Shabbat 147b.

[3] http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/temporal-parts/

[4] http://www.uky.edu/~dbradsh/papers/Christian%20Approach%20to%20Phil%20of%20Time.pdf

[5] http://myweb.facstaff.wwu.edu/wasserr/papers/the%20problem%20of%20change.pdf

[6] Avodah Zarah 17a

[7] Orot haTeshuvah

[8] Shemot 19:4-6

[9] Shabbat 86b-87a, within both points of view

Timeaholics, Part II - The Classroom

[Part I was here. Note that you can find video from that 21 Jump Street episode here. The line I cited is about six minutes in.]

In Part I, I talked about being obsessed with not wasting time, because of the potential of each moment. Here's more proof of what can be accomplished in short bursts of focussed activity - and of the value of "wasting" time in between those bursts:

In a school in England, students are now learning in eight-minute class periods, with breaks in between each class period for sports and games. As reported in an article from the Times Online:

The mini-lessons at Monkseaton community high school are interspersed with frequent breaks for sport or word games. The technique is based on neuroscience research which has found that the memory develops most effectively with short bursts of learning repeated at intervals.
Monkseaton is to extend the method to all GCSE teaching from this autumn after a pilot scheme improved results by an average of half a grade for science pupils.
Paul Kelley, the headmaster, said: “It may seem bizarre to teach an eight-minute lesson, break for 10 minutes to dribble a basketball and then repeat the process, but it works.
“In rigorous evaluation, students show improvement regardless of subject, teacher or their ability.”
...
Kelley’s technique, known as “spaced learning”, is based on the research of Douglas Fields, a neuroscientist at the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development in Baltimore. He has found that connections between developing brain cells form most effectively when they are allowed breaks from stimulation.
The implication is that teaching conventional lessons or trying to revise by cramming for long periods fails to take full advantage of a pupil’s potential.

Speaking for myself: I have always felt that I learned better - accomplishing more, gaining better insight, even retaining more - when I studied in quick bursts.

But, interestingly, this research also justifies having "down time" as well. It could re-define the chavrusa-interrupting tangents and small talk we used to call ביטול זמן in Yeshiva. Turns out, those moments may have been necessary in order to help us with our learning. Who knew?

Johnny Depp, Timeaholics and 3.3 seconds

I flew from Allentown to Phoenix this morning, which has made this a very long Friday; I left Allentown at 6:45 AM and landed here at 10:15 AM, and gained an extra three hours somewhere in the middle. I wish all Fridays were this long; that would definitely reduce my into-Shabbos stress load. (Of course, I'll be asleep by the time we hit HaMotzi tonight, but that's another story...)

In any case: I am not a good traveler; I'm far too impatient. I can feel the time slipping away. Sure, I bring sefarim on the plane and write notes for derashos and shiurim. (Today I worked on a class on "women's haircovering" in flight, continually shifting the papers beneath my elbow so that fellow passengers wouldn't take their few glimpses of the text as confirmation of the medievalism of Orthodox Jews...) But it's not the same; I lose a lot of time setting up to work, and the environment doesn't lend itself to real learning anyway.

So as I sat there agonizing over the lost time, I was reminded for the umpteenth time of a line from twenty-something years ago, from the only time I ever watched the television show "21 Jump Street."

There was a murder in a convenience store, and in the heat of the moment Johnny Depp's character failed to prevent it. The event took 3.3 seconds, according to the store video, and Depp spent the entire show watching the store video and obsessing over his inaction, and thinking of the great many things you could do in 3.3 seconds. I remember something about how you could take the toppings off a pizza in 3.3 seconds. In the past 3.3 seconds I found this quote:

Hoffs: How many times have you seen this?

Hanson: 122 times, but I don't watch the whole tape. I watch 3.3 seconds. 3.3 seconds that slipped through my fingers. 3.3 seconds where I could've done a thousand different things, but I didn't move. Do you know how many things you can do in 3.3 seconds? You can take off your shoes, pop a beer and shoot someone in 3.3 seconds.

Hoffs: Come on, Hanson.

Hanson: You can hold your finger down on the remote control and pass 17 stations in 3.3 seconds. You can open a can of tuna fish, shuffle and bridge a deck of cards, or twist the tops off six bottles of ginger ale in 3.3 seconds.

Hoffs: Hanson, please!

Hanson: You can ring a doorbell 22 times, lock and unlock a deadbolt four times, or sing the entire alphabet in 3.3 seconds.

That line has stayed with me over the years, and every time I am in a situation where I'm wasting time, it comes to the forefront of my mind, unbidden. I can't stand wasting time, the feeling that my life is receding from me while I do something foolish. Turning on the television and then "waking up" an hour later to realize that much time has gone by is just unthinkable.

I've been told I'm a workaholic, but that's not it. I'm a timeaholic. It doesn't have to be work - I can be reading a novel or playing with my kids, too - but it does have to be a real use of time, something that doesn't feel like a waste.

I expect that one day, when the day comes for me to report in שמים, I'll ask the מלאך המות for just 3.3 more seconds to finish doing whatever it is I'm working on. And I expect most people will do the same.