With appreciation to Rabbi Philip Weintraub
In addition to being the 30th anniversary of my Bar Mitzvah, it is first Yahrzeit of my hevruta, or study partner, Rabbi Mitch Chefitz, who began the Havurah of South Florida and who I met during my time in Miami. This is his most famous story, The Curse of Blessings, and also the title of his book. I shared several of his stories during the first 30 days after his passing, yet I saved this one for the High Holy Days. As Jews are often known by the most famous book they wrote, he said he would therefore be known as The Curse of Blessings.
The Curse of Blessings
There was an Officer of the Law, a recent graduate, proud as you can imagine, in his uniform of blue with brass buttons and gold epaulets. He wore a hat with a plume and a sword with a gold and ivory handle. He was as pompous as could be. He was arrogant and bold and callous. Every letter of the alphabet served only to demonstrate his authority and exalt his being.
One day he was walking his beat and heard a commotion in an alley. He ventured into the darkness, and there in the distance saw a man in rags. “Come forward,” he commanded. “Come forward now!” But the man in rags did not come forward. “I am an Officer of the Law, and I command you, come forward!”
The man in rags did not move. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and spoke, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
“Do with me?” the Officer of the Law mocked. “Do with me? You don’t do with me! I do with you! I am an Officer of the Law, and I command you to come forward.”
“Now I know what to do with you,” the man in rags said, and as he spoke, he drew his sword. “Now I know what to do. Without further word he moved to attack.
The Officer of the Law drew his own sword in defense. “Stop that!” he ordered. “Put your sword down right now!” But the man in rags did not stop. The officer of the Law had to parry thrusts left and right. “Stop!” he said again, but to no avail. The officer of the Law was forced to retreat.
When it seemed the man in rags would prevail, he lowered his guard, and what the Officer of the Law had intended as a parry became a thrust. His sword ran through the man in rags. “I didn’t mean that,” the Officer of the Law said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Why didn’t you stop when I ordered you to? Why did you attack me?”
The man in rags waved the words away. “I am leaving you,” he said, “and as I do, I put upon you the Curse of Blessings.”
“What do you mean?” asked the Officer of the Law, now quite confused.
“The Curse of the Blessings. Every day you must say a new blessing, one you have never said before. On the day you do not say a new blessing, on that day you will die.”
The man in rags closed his eyes. The Officer of the Law looked about for help. There was none to be found. When he turned back, the man in rags had disappeared. He was gone.
“It was a dream,” the Officer of the Law thought. “Only a dream, I imagined it.”
The time was late in the afternoon. The sun was setting. As much as the Officer of the Law tried to ignore his experience, he could not. The Jewish day ends with the sunset. The Officer of the Law felt his body growing cold and knew from the chill that his life was leaving him. In a panic, he uttered these words of blessing: “You are blessed, Lord our God, ruler of the universe, who has created such a beautiful sunset.” At once warmth and life flowed back into him. He realized, with both shock and relief, the curse had been for real.
The next morning, he did not delay. He woke with words of blessing. “You are blessed that You allowed me to wake up this morning.” His life felt secure the entire day. The next morning, he blessed his ability to rise from his bed, the following day, that he could tie his shoes.
Day after day he found abilities he could bless. That he could go to the bathroom, that he had teeth to brush, that each finger of his hands still worked, that he had toes on his feet and hair on his head. He blessed his clothes, every garment. He blessed his house, the roof and floor, his furniture, every table and chair.
At last, he ran out of things to bless, so he began to bless relationships. He blessed his family and friends, fellow workers, and those who worked for him. He blessed the mailman and the clerks. He was surprised to find they appreciated the blessings. His words had power. They drew family and friends closer to him. Word went out that the Officer of the Law was a source of blessing.
Years passed, decades. The Officer of the Law had to go farther afield to find new sources of blessing. He blessed city councils and university buildings, scientists, and their discoveries. As he traveled through the world he became in awe of its balance and beauty and blessed that. The more he learned, the more he had to bless. His life was long, and he had the opportunity to learn in every field.
He passed the age of one hundred. Most of his friends were long gone. His time was relegated to searching for the purpose in his life and the one source from which all blessings flow. He had long since realized he was not the source but only the conduit, and even that realization was welcomed with a blessing that sustained him for yet another day.
As he approached the age of one hundred and twenty, he considered that his life was long enough. Even Moses had not lived longer. On his birthday he made a conscious decision to utter no new blessing and allow his life to come to an end. Still, he could recite old blessings, and throughout the day, he received them, all the blessings for his body and his possessions, for relationships that spread throughout the world, for the awesome beauty and balance of creation, and for the deep resonance, the pulse of purpose that pervaded his very being. But no new blessing passed his lips.
As the sun was setting, a chill progressed inward from his extremities. He did not resist it. In the twilight a figure appeared, the man in rags. “You!” the Officer of the Law exclaimed. “I have thought about you every day for a hundred years! I never meant to harm you. Please, forgive me.”
“You don’t understand,” said the man in rags. “You don’t know who I am, do you? I am the angel who was sent a hundred years ago to harvest your soul, but when I looked at you, so pompous and proud, there was nothing there to harvest. An empty uniform was all I saw. So, I put upon you the Curse of Blessings, and now look what you’ve become!”
The Officer of the Law grasped in an instant all that had happened and why. Overwhelmed he said, “You are blessed, my God, ruler of the universe, that You have kept me alive and sustained me so I could attain this moment.”
“Now look what you’ve done!” the man in rags said in frustration. “A new blessing!”
Life flowed back into the Officer of the Law, and he and the man in rags looked to each other, neither of them knowing quite what to do.
What does this story teach us? What lessons do we hear from these words? While there are many, we could consider, the power of blessings, the influence of gratitude, the strength of attitude, the importance of kindness and humility, or even the danger of prejudice, I think the importance of gratitude might be the most important.
We currently live in a world that seems “less than.” Those retired on fixed income haver experienced the belt-tightening imposed by constant inflation, especially in grocery and gas prices. Those working have seen raises disappear or even worse jobs, business and opportunities crumble. We live in a world where college graduates have difficulty finding employment and spend more time in their childhood rooms than their parents expected. Some wonder if they will ever be able to afford the American Dream of buying a home.
Yet amidst all this turmoil and uncertainty, we must remember how blessed we are. Without comparing ourselves to the huge numbers of people in this country and around the world with far greater difficulties, we can see in our own lives how blessed we are.
What I see in this story is the recognition of all the good in our lives. While we may think of ourselves as optimists, pessimists, or realists, we have agency in how we respond to what is happening in our lives. Will we live longer if we say a blessing every day? Not necessarily, but how much more grateful we will feel! How much better our lives might seem! What will life be like if we say a blessing every day? Or 18 blessings? Or 100 blessings? This gratitude challenge is ours as we begin the new month or Marheshvan.
