Monday, September 21, 2015

Hospitality When It Really Matters — Kiddushin 81 — #5

Plimo used to say everyday, “An arrow in Satan’s eye!” Once, on the eve of Yom Kippur, Satan disguised himself as a poor man and went and called out at his door [begging for alms]. They brought out bread for him. He said, “On a day like this, when everyone is inside [eating the meal before Yom Kippur at a table], shall I be outside?” They brought him inside and brought him bread. He said, “On a day like today everyone [sits] at the table. [Should] I sit by myself?” They brought him in and sat him at the table. [As] he sat, his body suddenly became covered with boils and sores, and he behaved repulsively. He said to him, “Sit properly!” [The beggar] said to [Plimo], “Give me a cup [of wine].” They gave him a cup. He coughed and spit phlegm into it. They scolded him. He fell and [it appeared that he had] died. They heard people [in the street crying out], “Plimo has killed a man! Plimo has killed a man!” He fled and hid in a privy. Satan followed him, and fell before him. When [Satan] saw how [Plimo] was suffering, he disclosed his identity. He asked Plimo, “Why did you say this [i.e. “An arrow in Satan’s eye”]?” [Plimo asked,] “Then how should I speak?” [Satan] said to him, “Let master say, ‘May the Merciful One rebuke Satan.’”

INTRODUCTION
In the first edition of Ten Minutes of Talmud, we read a passage from tractate Shabbat about hospitality. The Rabbis—at least symbolically—elevate welcoming people in importance above welcoming the Shekhinah (God’s Presence). It’s one thing to invite friends and family into our homes, feed them, and enjoy their company. It’s quite another to welcome unbidden guests, particularly when we find them repellant. In tractate Kiddushin, the Rabbis tell the story of a man named Plimo who has the opportunity to welcome a homeless man begging for alms. Try to imagine that such a person knocks on the door of your home. What do you do?

COMMENTARY
This beautifully constructed story of Plimo is found with others concerning righteous sages who boast that the yetzer ra (evil inclination) has no power of them. Here, the yetzer ra, anthropomorphized, and played by none other than Satan, the prosecutorial angel in God’s heavenly court. Midrash Vayikra Rabbah 21:10 says, “One should not give Satan an excuse.” Plimo does precisely that: he taunts Satan, daring Satan to call his bluff.

The setting is Erev Yom Kippur. Plimo and his household are assembled for the last meal before the fast begins. This is likely a hardy, if not sumptuous, meal because it has to hold them for 25 hours. Plimo and his family are preparing to spend Yom Kippur pleading with God to be merciful to them, forgive them for their sins, and inscribe them for another year of life. It’s a lovely, idyllic family scene until a knock comes on the door…

The beggar at the door is poor and desperately hungry. While the family is embarking on a voluntary (if obligatory) fast, the beggar fasts involuntarily. How does the family respond? Hoping to avoid contact with him, they bring bread outside so that they don’t have to invite him inside. The beggar, however, asks to be brought inside where everyone else is. Once inside, he points out that everyone else is permitted to eat at the table. As much as they would like to ignore him, he makes it impossible to do so. When the beggar sits down at the family's table, we are told that, “his body suddenly became covered with boils and sores.” Really? Suddenly? Or is it that no one noticed that he is not only starving, but also desperately ill. How could they have missed this? Plimo’s response is to reprimand the poor man, rather than attend to his medical needs. The juxtaposition of Plimo, who is about to plead for God’s mercy—though he smugly believes he is righteous enough not to require it—and his failure to show mercy to one truly in need is stunning and disturbing. Would a genuinely righteous person behave as Plimo has? Yet how different are all of us from Plimo?

The beggar falls and “dies.” At once, the whole neighborhood is aware of what has happened and that Plimo is at fault. How do they know? This seems to be Satan’s doing. Plimo has publicly declared his righteousness; Satan makes Plimo’s true self public knowledge. In horror, Plimo flees to the privy and locks himself in. The inconvenience that befell Plimo has turned into a disaster. Satan pursues Plimo and again “falls” before him, making it clear to us that Plimo not only failed to show compassion to the beggar, but failed to fulfill the mitzvah of attending to the dead. Satan, realizing that Plimo is suffering, now ends the masquerade by revealing himself. Ironically, Satan shows Plimo more compassion than Plimo shows the beggar. But Satan doesn’t let Plimo off the hook entirely. Satan asks Plimo why he arrogantly boasted, “An arrow in Satan’s eye.” Plimo is a good deal more humble now, and open to hearing what Satan has to say. Satan reminds Plimo that he, like all of us, is vulnerable to temptation and wrongdoing, and needs to invoke God’s help to do what is right and avoid what is wrong.

QUESTIONS TO CONSIDER AND DISCUSS

  1. Plimo is not a bad man. But neither is he impervious to the yetzer ra. What happens when people believe in their own righteousness overmuch?
  2. What suffering does Satan see in Plimo? Is it fear, embarrassment, shame? Something else?
  3. How different is Plimo from all of us? Most of us believe we are basically good and decent people yet when we encounter someone whose poverty or person repels us, what do we do?

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