I was at temple the other day. I got into a conversation with a woman. A few minutes in, she said she had been warned about me. Nothing new. Except that she was warned about me by a guy I was friendly with. Then I thought about it. That's not new either.
I was at Temple Sinai (C) in Westwood the other day talking to two women. They were disappointed that rabbi David Wolpe had not stopped by the room so they could talk to him.
Rabbi Wolpe is such a great orator that he can't help but go through life disappointing people. There were over 1000 Jews in the house and I bet half of them would've enjoyed talking to him.
My father is a great orator. When some people listen to him, they feel like they can close their eyes and think they are listening to the voice of God. They feel like he is speaking to them individually even when he is addressing a thousand people at once. They feel like he truly understands them and holds the keys to their salvation.
Jewish speakers in Los Angeles who have this similar star quality include rabbi Mordecai Finley, rabbi Yitzhok Adlerstein, Dennis Prager and Wolpe. Prager and R. Adlerstein are pretty much the same in one-on-one interaction as they are from the pulpit.
Still, their oratorical abilities stimulate such enormous longings for wholeness and healing in people that they raise impossible expectations. Thus, a certain type of follower of their's is always disappointed. People wrongly expect that because somebody is a great speaker, he is the answer to their problems. That he truly understands them. That he has the time to listen to their problems. That he truly cares what they have to say.
Now, almost everybody appreciates appreciation. But unless you are on the level of rabbis Finley and Adlerstein and Wolpe, as well as Prager, in their chosen fields, you should not expect these speakers to be as interested in what you have to say as you are in what they have to say. Yet I sense that many people, including myself, sometimes get so excited about learning from these teachers, that they want to give something back by instructing their teachers in some narrow area to prove to themselves that they can "give" too. This is setting oneself up for disappointment.
I saw a troubled woman I used to date dissolve in tears in front of R. Wolpe and dozens of other people at Friday Night Live. His sermon had obviously touched the deepest recesses of her soul. He was gracious and told her to call him during the week. But I doubt that he's going to be able to solve her problems. Just by giving her a few minutes of his time, however, I'm sure he could give her a great gift.
I used to ask my father why he took so much time counseling individuals. Why not just concentrate on his speeches to a wider audience? He answered with a metaphor. Speaking before a thousand people is like pouring a jug of water into one thousand glasses. Each glass only gets a few drops. Counseling someone individually is like pouring the water into one glass.
