Rabbi Jennier Clayman

May 28, 2010/15 Sivan 5770

Sayver Panim Yafot (A Cheeerful, Graceful Countenance)

Tribute to Robyn Siegel

One day when he was in college, Scott Ginsberg attended an event that required him to wear a nametag. After the event was over, he decided to do a little experiment. He kept the nametag on, and as of today, he’s worn a nametag 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for 3,495 consecutive days. If someone comes up to him in the street and rips the nametag off, he carries replacements. If he takes off his jacket, he has another nametag stuck to the shirt beneath. Strip him down far enough, and he has a nametag tattooed on his chest.

Ginsberg’s first book was called Hello, My Name Is Scott, and he has managed to turn nametag-wearing into a lucrative business spanning publishing, speaking, consulting and media.

What lessons has he learned from wearing a nametag all day, every day? Here are some highlights from a 101-item list:

• Never underestimate the power of approachability.
  
• Create encounters that otherwise would not have existed.
  
• Break the silence. Every day.
  
• Give people permission to talk to you.
  
• Everyone has a story. And everyone wants to tell that story. So ask them.
  
• It’s really hard to beat up a stranger if you know his name.
  
• Nametags will not get you dates. If you’re a jerk, not even a nametag will make you approachable.
  
• Nametags are NOT about you. They’re about everyone in the world except you. Don’t boycott them. Wear your nametag for other people. Always.
  
• It’s not easy to be yourself.
  
  

When Ginsberg appeared on 20/20 in 2007, he was asked, “What’s with the nametag?” Why do you do it?” He said, “The nametag represents friendliness in a world full of strangers,” creating opportunities for connection in a world where people desire to be seen and known, but so often feel invisible misunderstood.

The idea that human beings need and desire connection is not new, and from ancient times, Judaism has understood how good it feels to be reached out to. This idea is reflected in ancient teachings that emphasize the importance of greeting others. According to the Talmud, Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai, was so courteous that no one ever greeted him first (Berachot 17a)—he was always first to reach out to others, Jews and non-Jews alike. Rabbi Matya ben Charash said, “הֱוֵי מַקְדִּים בִּשְׁלוֹם כָּל אָדָם” (“Be first to greet every person” (Pirkei Avot 4:15). And the great sage Shammai said, הֱוֵי מְקַבֵּל” אֶת כָּל הָאָדָם בְּסֵבֶר פָּנִים יָפוֹת” (“Receive every person with a sayver panim yafot, a cheerful countenance,” or a pleasant demeanor (Pirkei Avot 1:15). One series of commentaries says that “When you entertain guests in your home, do not serve them with a sour face, with your eyes fixed upon the ground, because when you act with a sullen face, even if you bestow upon a guest all the worldly goods, the Torah accounts it as though you have given him nothing; whereas he who receives his friends with a cheerful countenance, even if he serves him nothing at all, the Torah accounts it as though he has showered upon him the finest gifts in the world” (Kehati on Avot 1:15, referring to Bartenura and Avot d’Rabbi Natan). Finally, a midrash on the story of Joseph and his brothers says that Joseph made it his custom always to greet his brothers, even though, in their anger and jealousy, they never greeted him back. God rewards Joseph’s willingness to put himself out there in the face of rejection, telling him that, in the world to come, God will reconcile him and his brothers, remove their hatred, and cause them to dwell together in peace (Tanchuma, Buber, Vayeshev Siman 7).

Sayver panim yafot: A cheerful face, a pleasant demeanor, promptness with a greeting, increasing friendliness and connection in a world of strangers.

We don’t have to wear nametags 24/7 to embrace this middah, this virtue, and cultivate it in ourselves. (Though I will say that, if you’re staying for oneg tonight, put on a nametag—they’re on a table between the Sanctuary and the Social Hall!) But even where nametags aren’t involved, when we greet others by name, and ask people for their names even when we’re embarrassed that we don’t know them, we embrace sayver panim yafot.

When we invite an acquaintance out for coffee, or finally have over for dinner that family that we’ve been meaning to get together with, or turn “Hey, we should get together sometime!” from pleasantry to reality, we embrace sayver panim yafot.

And, once in a while, when we make a connection outside our usual social groups, and chip away at cliquey-ness by inviting outsiders in, we embrace sayver panim yafot.

When we put ourselves out there, and show others that we truly want to get to know them better, that they are liked and that that their company is valued and enjoyed, we embrace sayveir panim yafot.

As a shy person, a true Myers-Briggs “I,” I can tell you from personal experience that this is not easy for me, and I can’t do it all the time. Sometimes I need the familiarity and comfort of my friends; sometimes I am just too fearful of what others might think or say. But I have learned to do it some of the time, and I have especially learned to appreciate it when others reach out to me.

It’s important to say that sayver panim yafot is not simply a matter of putting on a happy face. Most of us can detect a phony smile, or the empty handshake of someone who’s just working a room. Sayver panim yafot means developing a genuine desire to approach people, to know them, and make them feel welcome.

For the last several years, Beth Am has been blessed with the sayver panim yafot, the warm, cheerful, graceful presence of Robyn Siegel, who, like Joseph and Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai, makes the world—and Beth Am—a friendlier, better place. Robyn started at Beth Am as a substitute teacher, and with her warmth, compassion, attention to detail and cheerful countenance, she quickly became an integral member of the Beth Am staff. Many of you have known her as the director of Sunday Program; she has also run our theater program, Hagigah; she has organized much of our holiday programming; and she has led the way to increased programming for, and inclusion of, children with special needs.

The people who have worked with Robyn describe her as a caring person, someone who always has a genuine smile and a friendly hello for everyone; someone whose very presence makes you feel special. One team member said that Robyn is the epitome of positivity; she has a kindness about her and a gentleness that makes her easy to be around and a joy to work with. Another noted that Robyn is the sort of person who doesn’t say much in meetings, but when she does, her words are significant and worthwhile.

Robyn, we have so appreciated how much you care about your students, their families, and this entire community. You have remarkable enthusiasm for making every child feel welcome at Beth Am, and you have brought a gentle, kind and loving spirit to the whole Beth Am education community— parents, teachers and most of all children, for whom you have a special love. And it has been mutual— children of all ages adore you and want to be close to you.

Another of Robyn’s strengths is that she remains calm and pleasant no matter how much chaos swirls around her; she is absolutely unfazed by multiple responsibilities, and she has made our Sunday program a place that is lively and full of fun—but also orderly, stable and reassuring in its routines.

Teachers have appreciated Robyn’s organization, her kindness, and her support. One teacher, a new teacher whom Robyn has mentored, told me how grateful he has been for Robyn’s trust and faith that he would be able to teach his class. He said that Robyn has always been there with words of encouragement.

Robyn is one of the most thoughtful people I know. She is always doing something to let others know that she is thinking of them and appreciative of the work they do or the help that they give. She does little things that add up: she takes teachers and staff members out for coffee and serves them breakfast in her home; and she made sure there were muffins and good coffee on the first and last days of Sunday Program.

On a personal note, I will always be grateful for the help you gave me when I was pregnant and after Noah was born: you helped me find a wonderful doctor, you lent me your maternity clothes, your high chair, your pack ‘n ‘play and your bumbo, you gave me advice on finding babysitters and parenting books, and you helped me adjust to this wonderful, new part of life.

Robyn, we are going to miss you—your spirit, your radiant smile, your kindness. You are truly an exemplar of sayver panim yafot, of a cheerful face and a presence full of grace and warmth. Mike, Riley and Layla are blessed beyond words to have such a special wife and mother. As you enter this next, beautiful phase of your life— which I hope is full of treasured moments with your growing family, we wish you all the best, and, selfishly, we look forward to your continued presence as members of this holy community.

When a Jewish holiday begins on Saturday evening, there is a custom of altering the traditional Havdalah ceremony. Instead of praising God for separating Shabbat from the rest of the week, and creating the distinction between holy and ordinary, the wording is changed to reflect gratitude for different kinds of holiness. Tonight we honor Robyn as she moves from one kind of holy work to another, and we thank her from the bottom of our hearts for her years of service.

Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, hamavdil bein kodesh l’kodesh.

Praised are You, Adonai our God,

source of life and sovereign of the world

who creates holy and holy.