(3-4 Minute Read)
As a Torah-observant Sephardi Jew, I enjoy shiurim, or Jewish/Biblical lectures, in a variety of media, both articles and videos. And these lectures originate from a plethora of sources. I even subscribe to D’var Torah pieces from Ashkenazi and Chassidic rabbis and organizations (gasp!). That means that I might be found watching a YouTube video of a lecture by Rabbi Yitzhak Breitowitz or Rabbi Y.Y. Jacobson while brazenly eating kitniyot (Sephardi-approved rice and legumes) during chol hamoed Pesach (the intermediary days of Passover).
One of my favorite Chassidic rabbis is Rabbi Manis Friedman of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement. While we don’t always share the same perspectives, I do immensely enjoy his thought-provoking lectures, especially in video format. He is a true Torah scholar as well as a dynamic teacher and charismatic speaker.
A number of years ago I was still a single bachelor, wild and free without even the faintest knowledge of my now-wife’s existence. At some point in my life I was watching a video of a lecture by Rabbi Manis Friedman. Rabbi Friedman was discussing functional romantic relationships and marriages. The rabbi commented on the unrealistic aspects of the romantic phrase, “I cannot live without you.”
“A man shouldn’t say to his wife, ‘I cannot live without you,’” Rabbi Friedman stood at the podium and declared to his in-person audience as well as the recording camera. “Instead, a man should say, ‘I can live without you… but it wouldn’t be much of a life.’”
Now, I have a confession to make. When I heard Rabbi Manis Friedman say that, I rolled my eyes and said out loud to myself, “Oh puhleeeez! Really, Rabbi? What a cheesy line!”
I shook my head in dismay and even a bit of nauseous disgust. I finished the video lecture with my arms crossed in Sephardi-style skepticism.
Fast forward several years later. I am now married, and the Almighty has blessed me with an amazing eishet chayil, or virtuous woman, as a wife. Recently we were sitting on the couch and watching Srugim, an Israeli television program about Orthodox Jews dating in Jerusalem (available on Amazon Prime). At one point in the show, one of the main characters, Nati, was being overly-dramatic and announced to his female love interest, “I cannot live without you!”
My wife immediately criticized the character, noting how ridiculous and unrealistic the phrase “I can’t live without you” is. But then she turned to me and asked me half-adoringly and half-accusingly, “Can you live without me?”
Immediately I heard the warning bells and sirens bellowing inside of my head. Warning! Danger! Red alert! Tzeva adom!
I had nowhere to go! I couldn’t escape! There was no way out! It was a no-win situation, and I was doomed! I couldn’t answer, “No, I can’t live without you,” because I had just agreed with her less than ten seconds before that such a statement was absurd. But I couldn’t look my wonderful wife in the eyes and callously reply, “Yes, I can live without you.” Our very pleasant and harmonious evening of quintessential shalom beit (peace in the home) was teetering on the brink of ruination and getting myself in a lot of hot water.
I panicked, searching my brain frantically for a satisfactory answer. As if coming from some far away place, I could hear myself begin to mutter, almost beyond my control.
“I, um, could live without you,” I responded lamely. “But, um, it wouldn’t be much of a life.”
“Awwww!” my wife cooed back at me. “You know just what to say to get to a girl’s heart!”
Oh the shame! The hypocrisy! After mercilessly mocking poor Rabbi Manis Friedman I shamelessly plagiarized his romantic lines and used them for my benefit. I immediately felt compelled to add “We have mocked the rabbi and acted hypocritically” to my daily Tachnun prayers of repentance.
Moral of the Story: Don’t ever make fun of the rabbi. You might desperately need his help later when you least expect it!
