Small Acts Can Make a Big Difference

Parshat Noah 5765
October 16, 2004  -  1 Cheshvan5764

It’s not difficult for us to imagine the world prior to the great flood about which we read in today’s Torah portion. It’s just around the corner

In my imagination this world is a combination of Las Vegas and Saddar City, Iraq with a little bit of Washington, D.C. thrown in for good measure. It’s a place filled with every form of violence, perversion and corruption. It is a world that has descended to such a level of moral depravity that there’s no longer any possibility of redemption or change. It is a world, according to the rabbis, so perverse that even the animals had become wicked. The natural order of things had been turned upside down.

In the words of the Torah, “The earth became corrupt before God; the earth was filled with lawlessness…for all flesh has corrupted its way in the earth.” In this world, there’s nothing left to redeem; nothing worthy of being saved. God had no choice but to clean away the old and start over again.

But the Torah tells us nothing about the actual crimes that were committed in the time of Noah. It allows our imagination to run wild. What did these people do that was so heinous? Were they guilty of violence, idolatry, and sexual immorality, the three capital crimes in Jewish law? Was there a moment, when God said, “That’s it; I can’t stand it any more. I’m going to wipe away the entire generation!”

So we’re left wondering. There is, however, another image of “Dor HaMabul,” the generation of the flood in the imagination of the Rabbis that is considerably different from this one and a little bit stranger. Having speculated on the terrible crimes that were committed in the time of Noah, the sages offer a very another insight: Of what were the people in Noah’s generation guilty?

According to some of the sages they were guilty of thievery, of stealing from one another. But they didn’t just steal; each person would come and take less than a peruta, the smallest possible coin, from the victim, so that he or she was not culpable in the eyes of the law and could not be accused of committing a crime. Apparently, a person could not be tried for stealing less than a peruta. But if enough people took a peruta from the purported victim, in the end the victim would be left penniless. And that’s exactly what the people did in Noah’s generation.

At first glance this might seem like a strange comment. What kind of crime is stealing a penny? Why would this make the world worthy of being destroyed? A penny is a negligible amount of money. In many stores today they subtract the extra penny or two on your bill rather than worry about providing exact change. And in some stores there is even a container of pennies on the counter by the register so you can take them if your bill is a few cents over the change that you have. Pretty soon we are going to do away with pennies all together!

Still, pennies add up. Imagine, for instance, inventing a rogue computer program that allows you to take one penny out of every transaction that takes place in the banks in New York this year. Chances are each individual would not notice the missing penny (especially if they keep he books the way I do). But over the course of a year the thief would accrue thousands, maybe even millions of dollars. Pennies add up, even if we don’t hold the person who steals them guilty of a crime. And when the people of Noah’s world worked together, they could literally bankrupt their victims from whom they all stole just a penny.

I think there’s an important lesson to be learned from this fanciful Midrash. Small acts can make a big difference, both in a positive and negative way. Small acts of thievery, hate, and violence add up to create a world that is not redeemable. They bankrupt not only the people against whom we act; they bankrupt us as well. By the same token, small acts of kindness and caring can change another person’s life even if we don’t realize it. A handshake, holding open a door or a simple smile can change another person’s day and even their life.

There is no such thing as a crime that’s too small or a good deed that is too insignificant.
All of our actions send ripples across the pond of life that effect others in ways that we may not even be aware.

So, of course, we recognize the heinousness of crimes such as murder or adultery. But we often fail to take note of the small infractions and the petty crimes that take place in our daily lives. The truth is we do not even consider some of these acts to be crimes. They often involve rudeness or insensitivity and you can’t be put in jail for being a bore. But they still make a difference. The person we bark at, while at work, goes home and takes out his anger on his family. The child we ignore believes that he is unworthy of love and gives up on life. The forgery that we buy on the streets of New York looks just like the real thing. We bring it home and enjoy using it but it means that somewhere down the economic chain there is a person who looses a job because people are buying forgeries rather than his hard earned labors.

Here in our own congregation the same is true. Small acts can make a big difference. There’s no way to tell how the smallest Mitzvah will change your life or the life of the people next to you. A penny in a Pushke, a blessing recited before eating a meal, a phone call to a neighbor who’s not well might make all the difference in the world. Someone else’s life is better because of you and your own life may be enriched and deepened because of the brief moment you took to perform an inconsequential act. Of course there are Mitzvot that are more demanding but even the little ones make a difference. And the sum total of all our Mitzvot are a blessing to the world just as much as the thievery in the time of Noah became a curse. Every moment performing a holy act is a berachah, a wonderful blessing.

This week was actually a tough week here at our synagogue. In the aftermath of the holiday season, with everyone still suffering from “prayer overkill,” we had trouble getting a Minyan. Three days this week Cantor Barr and I were on the phone waking up the usual candidates and asking them if they could come to synagogue to make the Minyan. By Thursday we simply had to give up; at eight people we couldn’t find another person to join us. For the first time in a very long time we didn’t have a Minyan.

Coming to Minyan is one of those small acts that make a big difference. In fact if everyone in our congregation agreed to come to synagogue just once a month or even once every other month we would have a chapel that was overflowing with people. The Minyan would be richer and more meaningful, and the experience would be more pleasant. After all ten in a minimum number not the limit for a Minyan.

Most important there would never be a day when a mourner who has come to synagogue to say Kaddish finds himself without the comfort of a community. And we would find that our own lives were enriched by the few minutes we took to express gratitude and reverence in the presence of God.

So my request to all of you is to consider coming to Minyan once a month. Don’t do it because you are supposed to, and don’t do it because I’m telling you. Come to Minyan because this small act can change your life and can change your world.

The Minyan is the heartbeat of a congregation. And if you do nothing more but sit there in silent meditation and occasionally say “Amen,” you will have made a big difference in your own life and in the lives of others.

The world is a fragile place. God promised never to flood the world again, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t destroy the blessings we have been given. All it takes are small acts. Small acts can save us. They can tip the scales.

We may not live in the generation of Noah but that doesn’t mean that what we do doesn’t count.

Small every day acts can change the world!

Shabbat Shalom