Ratings mania

No doubt the honorees themselves are excited by these judgments. But for any connoisseur of art, literature, music, film, food, or education, the critical question — especially in matters of personal taste — must be: Who really knows? More importantly, who cares?

Not since Maimonides?

Religion is one field that has mercifully eluded this rankings mania, largely because religion is usually an all-or-nothing matter. People who revere Jesus or Muhammad or Buddha or Moses are usually unwilling to assign some rival savior to the number 2, 3, or 4 slot. At least that was the case until this month, when the biographer Joseph Telushkin, writing in Philadelphia’s Jewish Exponent, proclaimed the late Lubavitcher Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson “inarguably the most well-known rabbi since Moses Maimondes.”

Rabbi Telushkin can perhaps be excused for succumbing to the temptation to hype his recent biography, itself hyperbolically titled Rebbe: The Life and Teachings of Menachem M. Schneerson, the Most Influential Rabbi in Modern History. But “inarguably”? Just off the top of my not-terribly-observantly-Jewish head, I can think of any number of rabbis in the eight centuries since Maimondes died who might arguably challenge Telushkin’s claim.

Has Telushkin never heard, for example, of Rashi (1040-1105), whose authoritative commentaries were indispensable to Talmudic students for centuries? Or Joseph Karo (1488-1575), who published the most widely accepted compilation of Jewish law ever written? Or Judah Loew (1512-1609), who dreamed up the Golem, the mythical protector of the Jews of Prague? Or Elijah the Vilna Gaon (1720-1797), father of Judaism’s rigorously intellectual tradition? Or Israel the Baal-Shem Tov (1700-1760), founder of the mystical/spiritual Hasidic strain of Judaism to which Menachem Schneerson subscribed two centuries later?

Test of greatness

It’s true that Rabbi Schneerson (1902-1994) inspired a large and devoted following. But the same could be said for Sabbatai Zevi, the false Jewish messiah of the 17th century who, when the chips were down, accepted a forced conversion to Islam.

The true test of great religious leaders or great artists, I would argue, is not the size of their following but the influence they exert, centuries after their death, on people who didn’t even know they existed.

I hasten to add that Menachem Schneerson was indeed a remarkable man — a rabbi who dedicated himself to rebuilding Jewish life after the Holocaust, reversing the Communist eradication of Judaism in Russia, and preaching among his Orthodox followers a nonjudgmental love for Jews and gentiles alike. Why trivialize this man’s life by debating whether he was the greatest rabbi, or the fifth greatest, or the 100th?

Executive’s mantra

My own spiritual guide on this issue is not a religious leader at all but a Philadelphia business executive whom you’ve probably never heard of. Jack Farber, the chairman of CSS Industries, has devoted more than 40 years to the unglamorous task of acquiring failing companies, repairing them, rebuilding them, and then selling them for a profit. In his memoirs (which I edited), Farber cast a skeptical eye on corporate hotshots like Jack Welch of General Electric or John Bunting of the former First Pennsylvania Bank, whose often-expressed philosophy was, “If you’re not Number One in your field, it’s not worth doing.” As Farber put it:

“It’s simply not possible to be the best at everything you do; the world has plenty of room for Number Two or Three, or even Ten — or even people who come in last, if they’re trying. This ‘Number One’ rhetoric may work at pep rallies and sales conferences — to fire up a team to win a game or reach a revenue goal — but any effort to remain Number One over the long term is to me a futile waste of energy that could better be put to other uses.”

Favorite food

I write here as a recovering listaholic myself. Almost from the day I first picked up a pencil, I began compulsively compiling lists of not only my favorite toys and games but also my favorite movie and TV stars, relatives, teachers, athletes, girls, you name it. When I was six, a friend of my father’s took me with his son to a Saturday morning movie. Afterward, as we perused the lunch menu at a nearby restaurant, he expansively asked, “O.K., Danny — what’s your favorite food?”

“Steak,” I responded promptly, reciting from a list I had recently composed.

My host gasped for a moment before he realized that I was not placing my order, just answering his question. Once he had recovered, he asked another question: “O.K. — what’s your second favorite food?”

“Peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” I answered just as promptly.

“Waitress!” he signaled without further ado.

Granted, you don’t sell many biographies by describing your subject as “the 34th greatest rabbi who ever lived.” On the other hand, next time you hear that Princeton was rated America’s best university or Stateside was rated Philadelphia’s best restaurant, it wouldn’t to hurt you to ask, “O.K. — who’s second?”