I had a very moving experience that I would like to share, an experience that reveals what the meaning of this life is and what it means to be a Jewish person.
I went to the funeral of a very close friend of my wife’s family, an elderly man named Norman (Naaman ben Moshe z.l.) Norman was 82 when he passed away. He had been sick for several months.
I had met him the day I met my wife’s family and I remembered how warmly he welcomed me. Norman did not become religious until his sixties. When I met him he had a long white beard and dressed in black and white suit and hat like in the way of Chabad Chassidim. I saw him regularly in the morning coming and going from the morning prayers as he walked slowly and with great effort. He was a man with a sweet smile, a simple man, but I did not know him well.
He was very sick and in the hospital for a long time and somehow he roused the strength to be released. He decided for his own reasons that he would leave Israel and take his wife Ilana back to her family. He and his wife spent several weeks preparing. In those weeks, Ilana said that Norman was very close to Hashem and seemed to have a spirit of prophecy. They said goodbye to all their friends and family. The day before the trip on Shabbat Norman had a stroke and a few days later passed away.
I went with my wife and in-laws to the funeral. Everyone was so saddened by the loss. My father-in-law told me, “You don’t know how much chesed (acts of kindness and charity) that Norman did. He always sought to help people in need, and he did all these acts very quietly, not seeking any praise.” The rabbi spoke of how he humbly dedicated himself to serving God each morning coming to his regular place of prayer.
What kind of man in his sixties changes his whole life to become religious and then dedicates his life in simplicty and without fanfare to these mitzvot (commandments) of giving and charity and prayer? He was a man who was friends with many of the richest people and powerful leaders of Israel, and he walked with them in humbleness and a warm and friendly smile revealing his inner faith.
I believe in God and the Torah and I live a very religious life, but at the same time I often wonder why is it so important to do these mitzvot. I know all the reasons and can explain them to you intellectually. I don’t doubt my faith. But at the same time, my inspiration is challenged in the face of all the personal challenges I have faced.
Yesterday I watched as they lowered Norman into his grave and the caretaker of the cemetery placed heavy stone tabs one by one to rest above his body and then friends and family helped to fill the grave with earth.
This was the end of Norman’s life, but at the same time I could feel so profoundly heaven opening up for this simple, holy man. The words of praise of Norman’s good deeds were echoing in my mind, his charity and his prayer. God revealed to me so clearly in this moment how these good deeds, these mitzvot, had opened up the heavens. I could feel how this man was being honored in the world to come. It was not an honor of “you did good,” or “how great you are.” It was an honor that this man through his acts of kindness and faith had most gently and naturally brought about a response from above, a revelation of the true goodness of life; Norman had lived a life that was worthy to be a part of this true goodness and beautiful revelation, which we call heaven. God somehow showed me why the mitzvot are so important. These simple actions build our eternal life, our true life.
Every detail of life is guided by God for our benefit. Norman did not pack his bags and say goodbye to his friends and family to leave Israel. God had blessed him with the opportunity to complete his life in this world and to prepare for his true life, his eternal life.