Let me speak of two movies I saw and a book I read this week.  The first movie was the Coen brothers' A Serious Man.  The directors of such comic-tragic hits as Raising Arizona, Fargo, and No Country for Old Men, this was Joel and Ethan Coen's most Jewish movie.  It begins with a scene entirely in Yiddish in the old country, then moves to suburban Minneapolis in 1967, where the brothers grew up.  Much of the movie is centered in a synagogue.
       The movie tells the story of a modern day Job, a poor Shlimazel named Larry Gopnick (played by Michael Stuhlbarg).  Larry is a professor of physics who is having marital problems, job problems, kid problems, brother problems, neighbor problems, etc.  Overwhelmed with trouble, he simply wants to talk to his rabbi for advice.  The movie is filled with scenes of suburban Jewish life from a bar mitzvah to a funeral.   And yet the movie deeply troubled me.
       What most bothered me was the portrayal of the rabbi, or rather three different rabbis.  Larry first sees the young junior rabbi, who offers him meaningless platitudes that are no help him at all.  He then sees the dignified, experienced senior rabbi who tells him an insipid story but once again has nothing useful to say.  Finally, he tries to see the elderly retired rabbi, who refuses to see him altogether.  "The rabbi is thinking," says his belligerent secretary.  Three rabbis with no wisdom to share.  For the Coen brothers, Judaism is nostalgic memories but has nothing useful to say to modern life.
       I also saw the movie Tuesdays with Morrie, based on the best seller.  (I read the book several years ago.)    I assume everybody has read the book or seen the movie, but if you have not, it is the true story of an overworked love-phobic sports writer named Mitch Albom (played by Hank Azaria).  When Mitch learns that his beloved sociology professor Morrie Schwartz (played by Jack Lemmon) is dying of Lou Gehrig' disease, he decides to fly to Boston every Tuesday and visit with his professor.  Morrie gives Mitch lessons in life, love, and how to die.
       Mitch is Jewish as is Morrie.  Flashback scenes show Morrie's parents speaking Yiddish, and in the end kaddish is recited at his funeral.  Yet there is nothing Jewish at all about the movie.  None of Morrie's wisdom is attributed to any Jewish source nor any rabbi.  It is the story of one secular Jew teaching another secular Jew how to live, with no references to Jewish tradition or Jewish wisdom.
       After seeing both movies within a few days of each other, I came away with an image.  If you want wisdom about life, do not go to your rabbi.  Rather, go to a secular Jew who has given up all ties to religion.  What happened to our people, who (as it says in this week's portion) are supposed to be a blessing to all the nations?   Does Judaism have any wisdom for modern people?
       Then I read a book ; it was Mitch Albom's newest book , Have a Little Faith.   In this book, Mitch returns to his Jewish roots.  He speaks of growing up in a suburban synagogue in south New Jersey, but not practicing Judaism and marrying out of the faith.  He goes home each year to be with his parents on the High Holidays.  As a non-practicing Jew, he is deeply surprised when his childhood rabbi asks him to deliver a eulogy at his funeral.
       Rabbi Albert Lewis was an extremely successful rabbi for over sixty years.  (I spent a wonderful Shabbat with him years ago and I am still friendly with his son.)   Rabbi Lewis and Mitch have a series of meetings over eight years, as the rabbi shares his wisdom and insights.  The book is a Jewish Tuesdays with Morrie.  The book ends with the eulogy Mitch spoke at Rabbi Lewis's funeral.  I believe that Mitch Albom, a wonderful author, rediscovered his Judaism in this book.  And I believe it proves that Jews and even non-Jews can turn to our tradition for wisdom on how to live.