By Rabbi Dr. Dovid Fox
I noticed some time ago that restaurants no longer have “waiters” and “waitresses.” Although these terms have been used for over 400 years, there is now a growing trend to refer to them simply as “servers.” There are a few theories as to how and why this change occurred, but generally, it’s more accepted in American restaurants to be introduced to your server rather than your waiter or waitress.
This shift in terminology may be related to similar changes in other industries, such as the transition from “stewardess” to “flight attendant.” I accept both terms. Yet, when I first heard the term “server,” I immediately thought of the saying by the poet John Milton, who coincidentally lived around the time the term “waiter” first emerged. In his poem, Milton wrote, “They also serve who only stand and wait.”
There, I mused, is a humorous reason to call waiters servers: they wait tables, but they also serve food. Waiters are servers too.
On the other hand, there’s an even earlier source for this notion. In the first book of Shmuel [1 Samuel 30:24], we learn of the soldiers of Dovid Hamelech. The passage describes how he sent two-thirds of his men to battle and one-third to guard the camp and its supplies and equipment. When it came time to distribute compensation to the army, he paid an equal share to those who guarded the camp as to those who fought in battle.
Those who waited behind were also serving in the army, for their role was essential to the warriors, who needed a camp to return to with its equipment and supplies intact. This, I concluded, illustrates the adage, “they also serve who only stand and wait.” There are those who serve in battle and those who serve as sentries, guards, and as a reserve presence. Those who stay behind and wait off the battlefield serve the army in that manner. Those who wait are also serving.
I then thought about my great rosh yeshiva, Rav Simcha Wasserman, z’l, whose yahrzeit we recently observed. He once spoke to a large audience of Jewish adults in an auditorium and, in his loving manner, quoted the Chofetz Chaim, Rabbi Yisroel Meir Kagan, zt’l, the rebbe of Rav Elchonon Wasserman, Hy’d, who was my rosh yeshiva’s father.
Rav Wasserman explained how every Jew is a member of “the army of Hashem” in the sense that we all have our tasks and talents, and each one of us serves a unique role in this metaphoric “army.” Each person presents their skills and strengths to the world, making their contribution to our religion as well.
When he finished his remarks, a man in the audience introduced himself as the ordained spiritual leader of a non-observant Jewish movement who rejected the authenticity of Torah and tradition but nonetheless demanded parity within the broader rabbinate. The man asked Rav Wasserman in front of the audience, “If every Jew is part of G‑d’s army, then my denomination is also part of His army. According to you, don’t we also belong and have a role in this army?”
Always tactful and honest, Rav Wasserman replied, “Yes, you are part of this army. You are the deserters.”
These last few months have left world Jewry in deep thought. We watch the changing culture, observing who are the steadfast friends of the Jewish people and who have emerged as critics and adversaries.
More Jewish people are now speaking about relocating—drawn to other regions, remote areas, distant countries, and, of course, Eretz Yisrael. Some have already moved. Others are studying their options. The rest are staying put, placing faith either in Heaven or in the diasporic status quo, hoping for the best.
The existential challenge is also a theological one: which “army” are we a part of? How shall we serve Hashem at this cataclysmic time in our nation’s history?
And while we are waiting—for Moshiach, for yeshuas—are we also serving? Or, as Milton actually wrote, do we only stand and wait?
https://5tjt.com/they-also-serve-who-only-stand-and-wait/