Yeshivat Parnassah Tova was abuzz with excitement as a celebrity of sorts was set to join the faculty. The great Rabbi Kugel had recently moved nearby to take care of his elderly parents and needed a part-time job for the year. Rabbi Kugel was known to be a master motivator; he could get the laziest people out of their beds, off their couches, and taking life on! His divrei Torah were masterful and he usually delivered shiurim to standing-room-only audiences.
Despite his popularity, Rabbi Kugel came with a “warning.” He had a way of driving people crazy with his choice of words. He was known to end his classes with unique catch phrases, like “and that’s all the fish there are to catch!” and “next time we’ll use YOUR jump rope!” Overall, Rabbi Kugel’s verbal quirks were considered a non-issue when compared with what an amazing teacher and motivator he was. Of course we don’t mention this just because it’s interesting. Nope. This story is all about when a quirk becomes too quirky.
In addition to inspiring the students and teachers, YPT’s board also asked Rabbi Kugel to coach the varsity basketball team. Although this year’s team was considered to be a talented bunch, they were lazy. From the starting center to the last player off the bench, the YPT Segulas simply lacked motivation. The fact that the Segulas hadn’t had a winning season (or a crowd of more than 20 people) in the past 10 years probably didn’t help. So, on the first day of school, Rabbi Kugel posted signs for basketball tryouts. The bottom of the poster read “last year’s players must try out as well.” He was going to light a fire under the team and this was the first step.
After school on Thursday, the largest group of hopeful Segulas in school history showed up for tryouts, as did a number of parents and teachers; they were just curious how it would go. As Rabbi Kugel entered the gym, everyone fell silent, waiting for his wise words. Rabbi Kugel cleared his throat, and began. “Hello, everyone. My name is Shlomo Kugel and I will serve as Neck Coach this year.” A quiet wave of uncomfortable laughter spread through the crowd. Not everyone knew of Rabbi Kugel’s reputation for strange turns of phrase, and even those who did had to stifle giggles.
One student with a bit of chutzpah spoke up. “Rabbi Kugel, don’t you mean ‘Head Coach’?” Coach Kugel was not fazed. With a calm face that gave nothing away, he responded, “That’s what I said: Neck Coach.” With that, Rabbi Kugel went right ahead with tryouts.
As you can guess, this wasn’t even close to the last time Rabbi Kugel substituted the word “neck” for head. “Come on, guys, get your necks in the game!” he’d encourage the team. “Great play! That’s using your neck!” This habit carried over to school as well. Rabbi Kugel referred to the principal as the “Neck of School,” and at faculty meetings would encourage the teachers to pay attention and not to “bury your necks in the sand.”
Eventually, the misuse of the word “neck” started to get on people’s nerves. It’s not as if they didn’t like Rabbi Kugel; they truly did like him. It was just very hard to hear this strange word exchange over and over. The principal, Dr. Thomas, requested that Rabbi Kugel cool it so that people don’t lose their minds. Rabbi Kugel immediately agreed and everyone was happy again.
A week later, Rabbi Kugel was delivering his weekly parsha shiur to the teachers. The topic was how to be a better listener. The third item on this list, according to Rabbi Kugel, is to “open up your neck to people.” At this phrase, a number of teachers looked around as if to say “did I hear that properly?” Their suspicions were confirmed when a few minutes later Rabbi Kugel discussed the importance of “opening our necks to other people’s way of doing things” and of taking other people’s words “to neck.” The heart had become the latest victim.
As this was the second time around, teachers and students were less patient. Once again, Dr. Thomas asked Rabbi Kugel to cut out the incorrect use of “neck.” Once again, Rabbi Kugel agreed without hesitation. The weeks went on and everyone at school was happy. The Segulas enjoyed their best season in years, the faculty began a new “Positive Thinking” initiative, and Rabbi Kugel settled in nicely at YPT.
In May, the part of the year known as “Yom Season” came around. Yom Hazikaron, Yom Haatzmaut, and Yom Yerushalayim all take place within the same time period, making for a month focused on Medinat Yisrael. Rabbi Kugel was chosen to speak to the school on Yom Yerushalayim. He ascended the steps, walked across the stage, stopped by the microphone, and began. “Yom Yerushalayim same’ach, everyone. When we think about our holy city, Jerusalem, many things come to mind. The most common object people think of is likely the Kotel. However, we often forget that the Kotel isn’t important on its own. No, the Kotel matters because of its connection to the Beit HaNeckdash.” As this last phrase was uttered, a few heads perked up and looked around as if thinking “did anyone else hear that?” Rabbi Kugel continued, “We must ask ourselves, do we really think about the Beit HaNeckdash enough? Do we feel co-NECK-ted to it?” (He clearly emphasized the middle syllable just like that.)
Now, more than a few heads perked up. A few students started giggling and every teacher was either smirking or rolling his or her eyes. Dr. Thomas looked particularly annoyed, and moved as if he was about to stand up and interrupt Rabbi Kugel. However, he was quickly calmed by Rabbi Kugel’s next words. “I know, I know, the neck thing again. Don’t worry; I will explain myself.” He took a deep breath. “You see, the head and the heart represent two different parts of who we are. The head represents the things we know to be true and the heart represents how we feel. As the popular saying goes, ‘the longest distance in the world is between the head and the heart.’ We often know the truth, but have a hard time following it because our emotions can get in the way. Sometimes we don’t feel like doing the right thing, and sometimes our other emotions—like jealousy or anger—are too strong. The neck represents the connection between logic and emotions, between the head and the heart.
In this week’s parsha, the reunion between Yosef and Binyamin is a tearful one. The pasuk says that Yosef cried on Binyamin’s “necks.” The midrash tells us that the use of the plural for neck is a reference to the two Batei Mikdash that will be destroyed. The Batei Mikdash stood partially on Binyamin’s territory. Why is the word “neck” an appropriate metaphor for the Beit HaMikdash? It’s for this exact reason. We might all believe in Hashem and know that Hashem has a special relationship with Bnei Yisrael, but we might not always feel it. The Beit Hamikdash, acting like a neck, helped bridge our knowledge of the truth and our emotions to help us feel Hashem’s presence. May Hashem help us feel up to the task of following the truth, even when difficult, and may Hashem return the “neck” of Bnei Yisrael, b’mheirah b’yameinu.”
By Yair Daar
