Shabbat Shalom November 26-27, 2010

BLACK AND WHITE FRIDAY
PARASHAT VAYESHEV 2010
Rabbi Noah Zvi Farkas

There’s a flurry of activity this time of year. From Thanksgiving to Hanukah, we seem to be caught up in a maelstrom of feasting, shopping, and celebrating. Black Friday is the newest American holiday. In recognition of Black Friday, I thought it best to teach a story about Reb Zusiya of Anipoli (ca. 1718-1800).

Reb Zusiya once attended a great feast in his honor at the home of one of the wealthy people in Ostroh (today in western Ukraine). Reb Zusiya came from a poor family and began his life as a student in Ostroh, begging for a morsel of food and a place to put his head. At the time of his feast however, he was a well-respected teacher and master of Talmud. Yet he was careful never to forget his humble past.

During the feast, as the well-to-do townspeople sat drinking and enjoying themselves, Reb Zusiya sat at the head of the table in silence. Without warning, he picked up the bowl of soup before him and threw it onto to his silk bekishe, the long, black hassidic caftan worn by many hassidim to this day.

The conversation suddenly stopped and all eyes turned to Reb Zusiya who began to angrily address his robe: "Go ahead, eat, bekishe! This whole party is for you!” The guests looked at each other not knowing what to say.

Reb Zusiya looked around the table. With a warm grin, he explained: "I was sitting here and remembering that a few years back I was a poor man here in Ostroh. Times have changed, and today I am invited to this grand feast in my honor. But I was thinking, have I really changed that much since I was last in Ostroh? I’m still the same person I was back then, but the only change that I could think of was my clothes! A few years back I came into Ostroh wearing the torn garments of a pauper, and no one would take me in or feed me. Today I sit before you in a fine tailored silk bekishe. When I realized that, I suddenly understood that you were not honoring me, that the food was not prepared in my honor, the guests were not invited because of my reputation. The credit must go to my bekishe! He then should eat!"

A new immigrant to America once told me, “You know, Rabbi, there are just so many opportunities to spend money in this country.” From an outsider’s perspective, America is not only a land of promise and opportunity, but place of great consumerism and material wealth. Reb Zusiya teaches us in a funny way, that feasting and celebration are Jewishly meaningful only when they are paired with the sacred values of tzedkah and chesed – the compassionate inclusion of those who are not at the table with us. This is why we give gifts to the poor on Purim, we invite the stranger into our homes on Passover, and celebrate with open arms during the festival of Sukkot.

This is what troubles me about Black Friday. For many, the Friday after Thanksgiving is the day that kicks off the shopping season that makes businesses profitable for the year, putting companies in the black (hence the name Black Friday). The sales on Black Friday also enable some to achieve a higher living standard (eg. “I could never have afforded this TV any other way). But can we take it too far? Do we risk tipping the community scales in the direction of material acquisition so much on one day that it rises to the level of being called a national phenomenon? When does bargain hunting become unbridled consumerism? When does running errands become a consumerist version of Pamplona? We need not spill soup on our shirts to confound our quest for material wealth, but Judaism does teach us to live a balanced, valued, and thoughtful life. We never celebrate without mourning the dead, we never grieve without telling at least one joke, we never feast without thinking of those who are hungry, and on Black Friday for those who do shop, let’s not purchase for ourselves without buying something for those who cannot afford. Moreover, instead of thinking of Black Friday as the day after Thanksgiving, let’s see it as a prelude to the most anti-materialistic day on the Jewish calendar, Shabbat. When you put your shopping bags down, take a breath, and turn your Friday flurry into Erev Shabbat. Put on a white shirt, light some candles, drink some wine, and take the time to live with what is truly most important in our lives – our sacred relationships.

Shabbat Shalom.