JEWISH AND DRUNK

My father drank. Every night as he sat down to dinner, he opened a cabinet door behind him and pulled out a bottle of Canadian Club. He filled a shot glass full of Canada’s famous 80 proof whiskey, lifted his glass, turned to everyone seated at the table and pronounced the following toast:

Mi zol d’leiben iber a yur

We should all live one more year…

and downed the spirit in a single move. I never saw my father drunk. I rarely saw him take a second drink.

Among Noah’s other distinctions is his being the first of humanity to become inebriated. Let’s not hold this against him. After the flood, he established a vineyard, sold grapes and grape juice, some of it fermented and when he drank enough of it, the erstwhile captain of the most famous ark in history fell into a drunken stupor. The Torah makes no mention of Noah repeating his mistake. But experience tells us that there are plenty of people who do, and among them, are plenty of Jews. How many Jews? Enough for there to be an active organization addressing the issue: JACS, which stands for Jewish Alcoholics, Chemically Dependent Persons and Significant Others.

It is clear from all the research on the subject that some people are prone to addiction. But at the same time, it is equally clear that people need to learn how to drink responsibly. That knowledge is gained by emulating a model. One such model is of the person who drinks with moderation. Another such model is using wine to sanctify a moment in time, that is, to say kiddush on Shabbat.

You may have heard the words “Savri Maranan?” just before the blessing over the wine with the rest of the congregation responding, “L’hayyim.” “Savri Maranan?” is Aramaic for “Gentlemen, have you formed an opinion?” and “L’hayyim” means “To Life!” What is the origin of this fun yet odd minhag (custom)? An explanation for what it is all about comes to us from the Midrash, specifically Midrash Tanhuma, Parashat Pekudei (Siman 2), in which we learn about the interrogation protocol in the case of capital crimes. After all the evidence has been analyzed and the witnesses examined, the head of the trial would turn to those charged with the task of casting a verdict and ask, “Savri Maranan?—Gentlemen, have you formed an opinion?” And if the gentlemen had found the defendant innocent, they would say “L’hayyim—For Life.” But if the defendant was found guilty, they would say, “Lamavet—For death.” The condemned prisoner would then be given wine, and lots of it, in order to numb the condemned to the punishment of death. The Midrash goes on to explain how important it is then, prior to the blessing over the wine, for the gathered to shout “L’hayyim—For Life.” We all know just how dangerous irresponsible drinking can be. For those of us who do drink, it is critical that we drink responsibly” L’hayyim—for life,” and not irresponsibly, “Lamavet—For Death.”

I once asked my father why, in his toast, he asked for only one more year of life. Why not ask for several, as long as he was at it. And he thought for a minute and responded, “One should never ask for too much.” Moderation: the guiding principal in how we drink, the guiding principle in how we live.