Associate Editor

Rabbinic sermons have been known to induce everything from slumber to revelatory insights into the Torah. John Evans heard one several years ago that taught him a new way of being a mensch.

"It stuck a lasting chord in me," said the 57-year-old Potomac resident and member of Reconstructionist Columbia Jewish Congregation.

The sermon was delivered by CJC Associate Rabbi Bob Saks, a devotee of the centuries-old Jewish ethical and spiritual tradition known as Mussar, which reportedly is undergoing a revival throughout the United States.

Drawing heavily on Mussar, Saks (who is also the spiritual leader of Bet Mishpachah in the District) told his CJC congregants that their obligation to engage in tzedakah (righteous giving to the poor) extends beyond paying taxes or contributing to communal funds.

They are also obligated, he said, to confront poverty face-to-face by giving directly to those in need, including panhandlers and other "street people" whose presence they might find off-putting.

"He said basically that we have an obligation to 'get over it,' " Evans recalled, noting that Saks recognized a donor's concern that a recipient might squander a handout on drugs or alcohol.

"Rabbi Saks said, 'That's between him and his God,' " Evans said. "'What's between you and your God is the need to help someone if he has to demean himself by begging for help.' "

Ever since, Evans has made a point of giving to street people he encounters. Just in case, he keeps a supply of coins in multiples of chai (in this case, 18 cents) in his pocket.

When he purposefully digs into his pocket, he added, it provides an opportunity to explain to his perhaps skeptical acquaintances the religiously rooted rationale for his behavior.

"Everyone seems to be impressed that it's not a random gesture," Evans said, "and they tend to be thoughtful about possibly taking on the obligation themselves."

Rabbi Yisroel Salanter would be proud. The 19th-century Lithuanian scholar founded the Mussar movement, a body of probing scholarship and contemplative practice that strives to develop positive character traits and thereby produce decent human beings, or menschen.

Once almost unknown outside Orthodoxy, Mussar is now a "growing phenomenon" in other movements as well, according to one of several Mussar-related articles in a recent issue of Reform Judaism magazine.

Although that trend may not yet be evident on a large scale in the Washington area, Mussar is being taught here in various forms in various denominations, and it seems generally to be the subject of heightened interest.

No fewer than three area congregations ‹ all of them non-Orthodox ‹ have Mussar-related presentations scheduled during the next few months. Meanwhile, the discipline continues to be a mainstay in several local Orthodox venues.

Drawing on strands of Jewish thought that began to emerge more than 1,000 years ago, Mussar is distinguished from many other forms of Judaic study in that it offers a practical approach for fusing belief with behavior, sacred texts with situations encountered in everyday life.

The roster of Mussar-appropriate situations is endless, according to proponents, ranging from how to express oneself properly to how to muffle road rage to how to deal with the frustration of standing in a packed, noisy, slow-moving subway car.

"Mussar is in-depth and how-to," explained Gilah Rosner, retreat manager at Am Kolel Sanctuary and Renewal Center in Beallsville. "It's not about generic decency. It is very personal and practical and useful. I find it quite lovely."

A Dec. 12-14 retreat at Am Kolel is titled "Exploring Mussar: An Ancient Contemplative Practice for Today." The featured speaker is author Alan Morinis, whose 2002 book, Climbing Jacob's Ladder, is credited with introducing many people to Mussar.

Morinis also is scheduled to speak in February at Reform Beth El Hebrew Congregation in Alexandria, following his appearance at the Regional Kallah of the Central Conference of American Rabbis Mid-Atlantic Region, a Reform group.

"We talk a lot about self-improvement in our culture," said Rabbi Brett Isserow of Beth El Hebrew. "Just look at all the books on the shelves in bookstores. Mussar is a traditional, long-standing Jewish way to accomplish that. It gives Jewish vocabulary to the self-help movement, and I think it's a very healthy trend."

"The beauty of Mussar is that it gives people the tools to deal with the tensions and stresses of real life by enabling them to live with more equanimity," said Rabbi Yitzchok Breitowitz of the Orthodox Woodside Synagogue-Ahavas Torah in Silver Spring. "In that respect, it's sort of a continuation of group therapy."

Breitowitz, who has taught the subject primarily in an ad hoc manner, said he regards Mussar as a welcome counterbalance to "those who define religion too narrowly" by preoccupying themselves with ritual matters rather than ethical concerns and "conscious introspection."

Susan Grant, 44, a member of Conservative Congregation Har Shalom in Potomac, said Mussar's practicality resonates with her.

"You listen to sermons, but sometimes they go over your head," said Grant, still a Mussar rookie. "Mussar involves actually working on improving your values. It makes you aware. It's everyday. It's not just a sermon, it's a practice."

Grant said her brief exposure to Mussar has taught her to examine her own behavior closely, particularly regarding what comes out of her mouth. "It's made me more aware of what I say," she explained. "That's the first step. Now, I sometimes stop myself before I say something I shouldn't have."

Rabbi Warren Stone of Reform Temple Emanuel in Kensington said he seeks to "capture the vision of Salanter" in his congregation by crafting rituals that encourage the growth of "personal spirituality," which is sometimes lacking in institutional Judaism.

One such home-grown ritual, Stone explained, is the "sacred story Shabbat," in which congregants relate to each other "the joys and tragedies of their lives" via in-depth narratives.

"This can lift the middot [positive character traits] of everyone in the community, including some who are suffering in silence," said Stone, who once studied Mussar in a yeshiva in Israel. "This can help them break out of their shell. Everyone has a teaching to give, wisdom to share."

As Stone's and Breitowitz's approaches indicate, Mussar teachings can be imparted in many ways. Some instructors delve deeply into individual middot, one by one, and craft a regimen to solidify each attribute, sometimes through behavior-modification exercises or by encouraging participants to keep introspective diaries.

Rabbi Charles Feinberg of Conservative Adas Israel Congregation in the District, has used a modified form of that approach. He taught a Mussar class this spring and summer, attended by more than 20 students, and has spoken about it from the pulpit on Shabbat.

District resident and Adas congregant Julie Weisman is one of Feinberg's pupils. The class she attended, which is expected to resume in early 2009, explored several middot in depth, probing beyond their surface meaning, searching for their essence. They included patience, equanimity, decisiveness and order.

Regarding the middah of order, Weisman said she first thought of messiness. Others brought up the seder (Hebrew for order). "And when we got into it deeper, we talked about ordering your words also."

The discussion, however, went well beyond the evils of lashon hara (improper speech, most notably gossip), a staple of many Mussar sessions. "We talked about how do you phrase something so that it's meaningful and not condescending or mean," Weisman said.

She said her introduction to Mussar had a beneficial impact on her. "You become much more conscious of who you are and what you say," she explained. "Normally, we run around like rats in a maze. This makes you stop and slow down and be more aware of what's around you."