In 1942, my father enlisted in the Navy. By the time the war ended, he was twenty-one years old and a Communications Officer. Despite being grateful for a safe return, his transition to civilian life was difficult. My father had experienced many profound and tragic moments during the war; now he was back in Brookline living with his parents. His naval uniforms hung in the closet next to his high school football shirt. My father had grown accustomed to Naval rules and regulations, but having to check in with his parents when he came and went made him feel — in his words — “like a stupid kid.” Still, he made a conscious effort to respect his parents’ wishes, and he succeeded.
Most of the time.
One Saturday afternoon, a friend called and suggested they meet for dinner. My father told my grandmother he was going out but did not mention the dinner plans. He came home around nine o’clock to find his father, Papa Ben, waiting for him. “Your mother was worried,” Papa Ben said. “And she made a nice dinner. What were you thinking? And next time, don’t just tell us you are leaving the house. Ask permission.”
After giving a reluctant apology, my father said: “It’s not as if I stayed out late or came home drunk. I told Mom I was going out. What did I need permission for? I’m not a child. I was in the Navy, and I have a lot on my mind!”
Papa Ben raised an eyebrow. “You think Moses didn’t have a lot on his mind?”
What did Moses have to do with it? My father tried to lighten the mood. “I didn’t realize Moses was in the Navy.”
Joke didn’t work.
Papa Ben asked if my father knew what Moses did immediately after receiving God’s instructions on Mount Horeb. My father answered that question with ease: Moses did as he was told and returned to Egypt. But Papa Ben shook his head. “No. Before Moses left for Egypt, he asked his father-in-law’s permission. If Moses could show respect, so can you, Lieutenant Big Shot. Being a mensch comes first.”
Imagine how Moses felt after his encounter with God. Overawed, he doubted his ability to complete an unfathomable task. Moses was afraid; his thoughts must have raced. So why did he go to his father-in-law? Maybe he wanted to put Jethro on notice so someone else could tend the sheep in his absence. But Moses did more than tell Jethro he was leaving. Moses asked permission. And this, according to Papa Ben, showed menschkeit behavior was part of Moses’ inner core.
Moses even risked disobeying God by asking Jethro for permission. After all, God didn’t say: “Before you begin this momentous task, make sure you ask your father-in-law if you can return to Egypt.” But Jethro was not only head of the tribe, he had shown Moses great kindness. And Moses understood the importance of respect. He could not ignore it even though God had just given him a mission. No doubt Moses’ determination to do the right thing confirmed God’s belief He’d found the right man for the job.
Nowadays, how often do we see people excusing bad behavior in themselves or their children because they are too smart or important or busy or fill-in-the-blank? Can’t you imagine a modern-day mother saying: “My son doesn’t have time to be polite! God just gave him an assignment!”
Derech Eretz (“the way of life”) is a crucial part of our Jewish faith. The Midrash states Derech Eretz preceded Torah by “twenty-six generations.” We must all treat each other with dignity and respect, no matter who we are and even in extraordinary situations.
My Papa Ben embraced the concept of Derech Eretz. One of his greatest qualities was an innate understanding that acting like a mensch had nothing to do with status or wealth or situation. Even as Papa Ben found success in this country, he never looked down upon anyone; nor did he place himself on a pedestal. Papa Ben was incredibly proud of my father’s military service, but he wanted to make sure my father stayed true to basic values. My father followed in Papa Ben’s footsteps and treated everyone with dignity. One of my most wonderful childhood memories was watching my father interact with all kinds of people and make them feel valued. Papa Ben’s lesson — and Moses’ example—stayed with him.
We can all learn from Moses and remind ourselves and our children to never discount menschkeit behavior. No one — not even Lieutenant Big Shot — has a valid excuse to cast aside integrity and respect for others.
This article was published in The Jewish Advocate on July 13, 2018.
