Rosh Hashanah eve. The shul was fresh and brightly lit. Crisp white tablecloths lay on the tables alongside new chairs, even a new Aron Kodesh! Candles flickered and we were expecting approximately 150 people for the holiday meal. The caterer had an excellent reputation and all the food had arrived in good time.
The evening unfolded beautifully. We made Kiddush and ate apples dipped in honey. We sang, shared Torah thoughts, and partook of the symbolic Rosh Hashanah foods.
But the next morning, things took a turn. The cantor told me he wasn’t feeling well. The gabbai told us that he had also been up sick the entire night. A few more people also mentioned they weren’t feeling well. I was surprised but figured some nasty virus must be making its way around.
After services, we served the extra food from the night before for a Rosh Hashanah Kiddush. Needless to say, shul was a whole lot emptier the next day… Even those who did come ended up leaving early. Everyone had food poisoning, and it was bad. Even those who hadn’t come to the Rosh Hashanah dinner, if they’d eaten at the Kiddush, were sick. One person told me he felt terrible because he missed hearing the shofar on the second day of the holiday. He also missed four entire days of work because he was so sick!
I called the caterer and told him he’d poisoned our community! “Impossible!” he responded. “I make the best food. I’ve never poisoned anybody. How can you accuse me of that?” I acknowledged his sterling reputation, but the reality remained that our entire community was sick from the food he cooked us.
But now I faced a new dilemma. To pay, or not to pay? On the one hand, he had clearly made over a hundred people sick, but on the other hand, he and his workers still spent time and money preparing our food. The caterer needed to pay his workers and his waiters, but his food had hurt an entire community!
He was calling to demand money but I was torn.
I was reminded of a summer trip with my family to Six Flags amusement park in New Jersey. My four-year-old son, Mendel, wanted to go on the bumper cars. We waited for at least 20 minutes and when it was finally our turn, we were not allowed on because Mendel was too small. Of course, he was extremely upset. He ran off to the side and was crying hysterically. We placated him by taking him on a different ride, and within ten minutes the entire incident had passed and he was happy again.
In general, children choose being happy over being right. Adults, though, often choose being right at the expense of being happy.
Children don’t keep grudges. This is something we can learn from: to focus on being happy, rather than being right.
Would I have been right to not pay the caterer? Absolutely! But it would have blown the incident up and caused unhappiness, fighting, stress and tension all around. Instead, I chose to pay him in full, happy to know I’d been the better person, and ready to move on.
There are, however, times where it’s important to take a stand for what’s right. Noach, who we read about in this week’s Torah portion, emulated this concept. In his generation, the greater population was living a corrupt, sinful life. There were no laws, or boundaries. No kindness or ethics. No guiding principles. People stole, hurt and killed without thought. But Noach did not allow himself to be influenced by his surroundings. He recognized that this was not a time to be happy instead of being right. No, this was a time to stand up for G-d’s honor and the preservation of humanity.
Very often, we can – and should – forgo being right for being happy, but it’s equally important (if not more so!) to recognize when and how to stand up for G-dliness. Thanks to Noach, we have a role model to emulate.