The (Rabbi’s) Lesson
Rabbi Joshua was a likeable man, always happy, with a kind word for everyone. The Jewish community of his small town appreciated his compassionate and gentle nature. However, there was one thing that Rabbi Joshua was not casual about, and that was when he spoke about religion and God. For him, this was his most important duty – to teach and serve God – and he took it very seriously. His sermons were the highlight of the Sabbath service. In time, his reputation as an outstanding orator spread to surrounding villages and towns.
Having heard about Rabbi Joshua’s reputation, the elders of a synagogue in a nearby town invited him to speak one evening. He accepted the invitation. On reaching the synagogue, he was warmly greeted and shown to the pulpit. He observed that there was a large crowd, but they were all talking and gossiping and had not even noticed his presence. The atmosphere was not very conducive for a speech on such a serious subject. In a loud voice he said, “I am Rabbi Joshua. Do you know what I am going to say?” People stopped talking, and someone replied: “No, we do not know.” Hearing this the rabbi said: “I have no desire to speak to people who do not even know what I will be talking about,” and he turned around and left. Everyone present was very embarrassed. The elders met the next day and decided to apologize to Rabbi Joshua and invite him back again to give a sermon. The rabbi accepted and the following week returned to the synagogue. This time the audience was better behaved and patiently waiting. Rabbi Joshua walked up to the pulpit and again asked the congregation, “Do you know what I am going to say?” They replied, “Yes, we know.” Rabbi Joshua replied: “Well, since you already know what I am going to say, I won’t waste any more of your time,” and he left.
Everyone was now very confused. They discussed the situation and decided on what would be the appropriate reply to his question. So they invited him back again, confident that they knew what to say if he asked the same question. Once again Rabbi Joshua returned, walked up to the pulpit, and again asked the same question: “Do you know what I am going to say?” Half the congregation replied, “Yes, we know,” and the other half replied, “No, we do not know.” Rabbi Joshua replied: “The half who know what I am going to say can tell the other half.” Then he left again.
Now the people were completely perplexed. Not wanting to give up, they pleaded with Rabbi Joshua to come back one last time, hoping that this time they would get it right. Rabbi Joshua agreed. When he arrived and walked to the pulpit, he again asked the congregation, “Do you know what I am going to say?” This time the audience did not utter a word but sat in total silence, their eyes fixed on the rabbi. A slight smile appeared on the rabbi’s face, and he began to give his sermon.
This is a well-known story found in many spiritual traditions, including Sufi, Hindu, and Buddhist. Most of the versions give only the first three exchanges and leave off the last exchange, when the audience sits in silence. This is unfortunate, because the last exchange communicates the reason for the rabbi’s behaviour. He saw the congregation’s state of mind and attempted to make the people receptive to what he was going to say – by emptying themselves of preconceived ideas, of what they thought they knew, and what they thought he was going to say. He wanted them to become like empty vessels, fully receptive. Once the rabbi saw that the audience had become quiet and attentive, having realized that they were confused and did not understand anything, only then did the rabbi begin his sermon.
Stories From the Heart