One day I boarded a bus on the outskirts of Jerusalem which was almost empty, as it was at the beginning of its route. Gradually it filled up as we neared the city, and an old man sat down next to me. His hands were those of a manual worker, and I judged that he was from one of the oriental communities, but otherwise he was unremarkable. The bus continued to fill up, until eventually it was packed with people. Standing near my neighbor was a young man of perhaps thirty years of age. Suddenly the old man pulled the sleeve of the young man and said to him: "Bevakasha, shev, shev." [Please take my seat.] I was surprised at this, since the young man looked perfectly healthy, but I did not pay too much attention. A few minutes later my neighbor tried again. He pulled the young man's sleeve more insistently, and implored him to take his seat. The young man just smiled a refusal. The old man shrugged his shoulders in disappointment, but apparently accepted the decision.
By now my curiosity was aroused, and I wanted to know the cause of this strange interaction. Of course, it would have been discourteous to ask the man directly why he was acting in this way, so I wondered how I might find the answer to my question without causing offense. Before I tell you what I did, I must expound a little the first verse of Psalm 82, which declares that God stands in the congregation of the godly. Our sages of blessed memory declare that this refers to a human lawcourt, since the word I translated "godly" can mean "judges." The remarkable thing that this verse teaches us is that while the judges are sitting, God stands there. How come? God has great respect for judges, and out of respect to them, as it were, he stands while they are sitting. This has a sharp lesson for both the judges and the other persons in the courtroom. If God is standing there, how could the judges possibly take a bribe, or render a perverted judgment? Indeed, the psalm continues: "Defend the weak and the fatherless, vindicate the afflicted and the poor!" And there is a lesson too for those in attendance at court. If the Almighty shows such enormous respect to the judges by standing, should we not also show them great respect, and not even think of being contemptuous of their decisions?
I knew that the old man would be familiar with this psalm, because every observant Jew recites it at least once a week, and he must have said it hundreds of times. And I thought he probably would know its exposition too. So I said to him: "It is not so bad to stand, because it is written in the book of Psalms: 'God stands in the congregation of the godly.'" He caught my drift immediately, as I suspected he would, and said to me: "I work with this man in the factory. He is a Cohen, a descendant of Aaron the priest, and I must honor him."
I thought about this answer as we continued our journey, and I marvelled. Here are two men working every day in a factory. Look at the respect they have for each other. One wishes to surrender his seat, because the man next to him is a Jewish aristocrat, even though he is a working man. The other refuses the offer, because one must stand up before a grey head. Both men have divinely bestowed privileges, and each man forgoes them in favor of the other. Could there be any greater politesse? Being Jewish involves both pride and humility, possessing privileges which one does not exercise. And those two men on a packed Jerusalem bus exemplified this simply and naturally. May they, and we, merit to see their city rebuilt as a beacon to the world of mutual respect.