By Rabbi Mitchell Hurvitz
There’s a story about a novice monk who joins a monastery. Every ten years, the novice monk was permitted to break his vow of silence and speak two words. After the first ten years, the new monk tells the head of the monastery: “Food Bad.” After another ten years, he pronounces: “Bed Hard.” Another decade passes, and the monk finally declares: “I Quit.” The head of the monastery looks at the quitting monk and says: “I’m not surprised. You’ve been complaining ever since you got here.”
There is an ancient Jewish tradition of “complaining” and a seeming lack of tradition for silence. The Torah describes the ancient Israelites as the “ever-complaining” people. The story of the Golden Calf explicitly describes the Israelites as an “ever-complaining, stiff-necked people.” Our Biblical heroes also indulge in complaining: Moses, on multiple occasions, complains to God. David complains about feelings of abandonment by God. Jeremiah complains about his frustrations and the heavy burdens he must carry. Habakkuk and Job each complain to God about God.
The Yiddish word for complaining is “kvetch,” and kvetching is often a source of Jewish humor.
Once, Mr. Goldberg got very sick and was immediately rushed to the best hospital in his town. There, he received a private room and the most attentive medical care. He stayed there for two days but then insisted on being transferred to a lesser hospital with no private rooms and a strained medical staff trying to care for all their patients.
When the transfer occurred, Mr. Goldberg was placed in a three-patient room with boisterous “roommates.” There, he was visited by a harried young intern on her rounds. She noted, “Mr. Goldberg, I see you transferred from our city’s most prestigious hospital. I guess that place doesn’t live up to its reputation.” Mr. Goldberg replied: “No, the medical care there was wonderful; I can’t complain.” The Doctor said, “It must have been the nurses then.” “No, the nurses were fantastic; I can’t complain.” “Then it must have been the food.” “No, no, the food was sensational. I can’t complain.” “Something must haven’t been good?” “No, everything was perfect; I can’t complain.” The young doctor is bewildered. She asked, “Then why did you switch to this hospital?” Mr. Goldberg looked at the young doctor and said with a broad smile: “Here I can complain!”
Everyone understands the humor of this story. But, we must acknowledge that too much complaining often isn’t good for us. Kvetching too much warps our life perspective. Seemingly, humans are hard-wired to focus on what is wrong vs. right. Our negative bias must be trained to step back so that our initial response to any challenge isn’t disabling. It is best to try and perceive the “big picture.” We need to effectively address genuine needs without becoming mired in the quicksand of complaining.
The best way to train ourselves to stop complaining is to practice gratitude. Rabbinic tradition taught two thousand years ago that one should ensure each day to articulate a hundred items for which we are grateful, big or small. Part of our self-discipline is to utilize silence to help us focus on our gratitude. Rabbinic Judaism teaches that the midbar (desert) is a place of silence where distractions do not confront you. The prophet Elijah didn’t perceive God in the “whirlwind, fire, or the earthquake. Instead, in the sound of silence.”
Silence isn’t always easy. Liturgically, Jews are to engage three times a day in silent devotion, a time for non-distracted focus within our hearts and minds. Silence is supposed to create an incubator for holiness. Our willingness to embrace silence and focus without distraction helps us hear God’s whispers. Silence and willingness can soften the complaining noises that interfere with our full enjoyment of God’s blessings.
Rabbinic Judaism teaches that silence is a “fence to wisdom.” If words are worth one coin, then our silence is worth two. Softening our complaining voice both inside and out, coupled with a daily practice of silence, can change the trajectory of our lives for the better. It will also help us better hear God and help God better hear our most genuine heartfelt hopes.
Let’s do less complaining and more silence.
Shabbat Shalom.
Temple Sholom’s Senior Rabbi Mitchell M. Hurvitz is a scholar, teacher, community activist and preacher, and is recognized as one of the prominent religious leaders in the Greenwich area and beyond. A frequent guest speaker at synagogues and churches, study groups, community institutions and universities, he is a charismatic personality who engages individuals and stimulates hearts and minds. His teachings can be found in Greenwich Sentinel and in other local and national publications.
