Skip to main content

Thought for the Day: Why We Say שלא עשני גוי

John Fender was a friend of mine in junior high school.  My mother and his mother were both very pleased with the friendship.  John was a bit on the wild side and my mother was hoping that the friendship would bring me "out of my shell" (mom's words) and make me less nerdy (my translation of her words into her intent).  His mother was hoping our friendship would bring him to be a little more centered.  As you can imagine, it worked as well for him as it did for me.

One thing he did made an impression on me, though, was when we were just starting high school (and still friends...).  I saw him buying the green and white with an image of a fighting leprechaun (Upland High School, the football team was called the Uplanders) book covers.  I told him that he could make quite serviceable book covers from brown paper grocery bags (aside: do you remember those?).  He looked at me like I had a hole in my head: "What?! I want people to know I am in high school!"

One might ask in our morning brachos why we praise HaShem שלא עשני גוי/for not making me a goy; why not phrase it in the positive, שעשני ישראל/who made me a Jew?  In fact, there are those who do want to make the bracha that way.  (I am not talking about a modern destruction, I mean from traditional sources.)  More than that, there is a very big discussion about what bracha is appropriate for a ger to make.  After all, they ask, how can the ger say the words שלא עשני גוי, when (apparently) he was made a goy?  Based on that, there are authorities who want a ger to either leave the bracha out completely or say, שעשני גר.

In point of fact, though, all Jews (native born and converted, alike) make the bracha שלא עשני גוי.  The main reason for couching the bracha in the negative applies equally well to the ger and native born Jew.  Namely, the term ישראל doesn't really mean Jew; it is really a title of respect given to a Jew who has striven to reach perfection and been tested.  HaShem doesn't actually make you a ישראל.  Rather, He gives you the tools you need (free will) and sets you on the course -- via either birth or beis din.  At the end of the day/lifetime, however, it is up to each Jew to put in his own השתדלות/efforts.  HaShem has faith that you will live up to that exalted title of ישראל, but He is not taking the credit for it.

There is another reason that I recently heard form the rosh kollel of Kollel Zichron Eliyahu; which, of course, starts with a new question:  The word גוי means "nation"; of course HaShem didn't make me a nation... I'm only one person!  More than that, the term גוי is very often used to refer to the Jewish nation -- גוי אחד בארץ/the unique nation.  So it seems like the wrong word on two levels: (a) it means a group and not an individual, (b) it can (and often does) mean us!

The answer took two shiurim to develop (and I highly recommend hearing them and the other shiurim on t'fila), but the essence is that גוי means "a complete entity".  That term can never be used to refer to a single Jew, only to the entire Jewish nation.  No Jew is a complete without every other Jew and the Jewish nation itself is not complete without HaShem and our connection to Him, our holy Torah.  A non-Jew, on the other hand, is complete.  He may choose to help or be helped by others, but at his core, he is complete.  A single non-Jew can therefore be referred to as a גוי.

My own addition: What's so bad about being complete?  Being complete in this world means we are finite.  We might be able to accomplish as much or more than the biggest, most powerful, multi-billionaires.  No matter how many zeros you add, it's still finite.

By saying שלא עשני גוי, we are thanking HaShem for not making us complete and whole as we are in this world; we are thanking HaShem for attaching us to inifinity.  We depend on every Jew, every Jew depends on us, we all depend on HaShem -- and together we, גוי אחד בארץ, make HaShem King and join ourselves -- collectively and individually -- to the Infinite.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Thought for the Day: Love in the Time of Corona Virus/Anxiously Awaiting the Mashiach

Two scenarios: Scenario I: A young boy awakened in the middle of the night, placed in the back of vehicle, told not to make any noise, and the vehicle speeds off down the highway. Scenario II: Young boy playing in park goes to see firetruck, turns around to see scary man in angry pursuit, poised to attack. I experienced and lived through both of those scenarios. Terrifying, no? Actually, no; and my picture was never on a milk carton. Here's the context: Scenario I: We addressed both set of our grandparents as "grandma" and "grandpa". How did we distinguish? One set lived less than a half hour's drive; those were there "close grandma and grandpa". The other set lived five hour drive away; they were the "way far away grandma and grandpa". To make the trip the most pleasant for all of us, Dad would wake up my brother and I at 4:00AM, we'd groggily -- but with excitement! -- wander out and down to the garage where we'd crawl

Thought for the Day: David HaMelech's Five Stages of Finding HaShem In the World

Many of us "sing" (once you have heard what I call carrying a tune, you'll question how I can, in good conscience, use that verb, even with the quotation marks) Eishes Chayil before the Friday night Shabbos meal.  We feel like we are singing the praises of our wives.  In fact, I have also been to chasunas where the chasson proudly (sometimes even tearfully) sings Eishes Chayil to his new eishes chayil.  Beautiful.  Also wrong.  (The sentiments, of course, are not wrong; just a misunderstanding of the intent of the author of these exalted words.) Chazal (TB Brachos, 10a) tell us that when Sholmo HaMelech wrote the words "She opens her mouth Mwith wisdom; the torah of kindness is on her tongue", that he was referring to his father, Dovid HaMelech, who (I am continuing to quote Chazal here) lived in five worlds and sang a song of praise [to each].  It seems to me that "world" here means a perception of reality.  Four times Dovid had to readjust his perc

Thought for the Day: אוושא מילתא Debases Yours Shabbos

My granddaughter came home with a list the girls and phone numbers in her first grade class.  It was cute because they had made it an arts and crafts project by pasting the list to piece of construction paper cut out to look like an old desk phone and a receiver attached by a pipe cleaner.  I realized, though, that the cuteness was entirely lost on her.  She, of course, has never seen a desk phone with a receiver.  When they pretend to talk on the phone, it is on any relatively flat, rectangular object they find.  (In fact, her 18 month old brother turns every  relatively flat, rectangular object into a phone and walks around babbling into it.  Not much different than the rest of us, except his train of thought is not interrupted by someone else babbling into his ear.) I was reminded of that when my chavrusa (who has children my grandchildrens age) and I were learning about אוושא מילתא.  It came up because of a quote from the Shulchan Aruch HaRav that referred to the noise of תקתוק