"Unlimited Limits" - Dvar Torah - Parshat Bo 2012/5772

Dvar Torah

Parshat Bo

“Unlimited limits”

Rabbi Neil A. Tow©

Shylock:
I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands,
organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same
food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases,
heal'd by the same means, warm'd and cool'd by the same winter
and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If
you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die?
And if you wrong us, do we not revenge? If we are like you in the
rest, we will resemble you in that.

(The Merchant Of Venice Act 3, scene 1, 58–68

Shylock argues  in “The Merchant of Venice” that all people are the same under the skin and even in our feelings, our flaws, and struggles.

But when we look at issues that are invisible to the eye, or microscope, when we see the amazing diversity of personalities and perspectives, we recognize that there is a fantastic level of variety and differences between us both noticeable and subtle.

A particular area of individuality is the area of our ‘limits’:  How patient can we be? How much pain can we withstand? Can we function on 4 hours of sleep a night or do we need 8?  How long does it take us to forgive?  Can we recover quickly from loss, failure, and rejection or do we slide into self-pity and doubt for a long time?

These limits are not written on the stone of ourselves forever.  With growth comes learning, and new perspectives on the world and our place within it.

As we approach the end of the 10 plagues saga it is clear that we are at a litmus test point for Pharaoh with regard to his limits.  Pharaoh (and the Egyptians) have endured 9 plagues that have devastated their water, land, crops, and bodies.  God knows that the 10^th plague will break Pharaoh’s resolve, but does Pharaoh know?  God says, “Pharaoh will not listen.” 

Moses leaves the presence of Pharaoh in anger – perhaps Moses is at the end of his patience and endurance as well.

How do we know when we’ve reached our limits?  There is the frustrated and exasperated response, “I can’t take it anymore.”  Others may shut down, internalize the circumstances and withdraw.  We might get angry, keep ourselves up at night, become physically sick – all this is the worst-case scenario.

The other way to respond to the moment when we reach our limit is to reflect on how we got to that point, how we may have given up our initiative or how we may have suffered an injustice.  We can seek forgiveness and reconciliation, let go of grudges and hurt, make room in our lives for ourselves to grow – giving others a wide berth, and perhaps even redefine our limits.

As a tennis player, as a fan of the game, I watch the pros recover from the brink of defeat, energy sapped, one stroke at a time, breathing, swinging, and positive. 

Shabbat itself is a lesson on limits – a Divinely imposed lesson in both recognizing and potentially redefining our limits.  Even God steps back from creation and inspect it, evaluate it, make room for us, God’s image-carriers, to step back and appreciate our existence as well.  And Shabbat can redefine our limits, too, as we scan our minds and bodies to discover their status in time; as we intentionally take time to review what we have done, and not done, during the past week so that we can enter the new week as a new person, with renewed hope, renewed energy, and most fundamental of all, a new perspective – since in relationships with others, in a tennis match that is not going our way, after a week that is awful and seemingly endless, perspective is the one key element that can re-focus and re-channel our energy into more positive pathways.

Let’s conclude with hope and optimisim for the week ahead with a lyric from an Israeli hip-hop band, Mishpact Takt, whose singer Sivan belts out in a full-fledged fist pump of positive energy, “Ayn gvulot milvad ha’dimyon,” there are no limits except the imagination.

Shabbat Shalom.

Lesson in Courage - Parshat Vaera 2012

Vaera 5772/2012

A Lesson in Courage

Rabbi Neil A. Tow©

When Aaron takes the walking stick and throws it to the ground, he draws the line in the sand.  God predicts that Pharaoh will ask him to ‘Produce your marvel’, and in response Aaron takes the stick, throws it to the ground, and it turns into a snake.  Pharaoh, unimpressed, calls upon his magicians, and they create snakes from sticks as well.  Even. 

And then…

Aaron’s stick swallows the others.

It appears here as a game of brinksmanship – who will gain the advantage over the other.  Will Moses and Aaron be able to convince Pharaoh to release the people?  How will Pharaoh respond? Already Pharaoh challenged Moses and Aaron by increasing the quota of bricks the Israelites had to make for him.

Moses and Aaron teach us a lesson in courage, a lesson that transcends the Exodus experience and transcends time, a lesson that we witnessed on February 1^st 1960 when Ezell A. Blair, Jr. (now Jibreel Khazan), Franklin E. McCain, Joseph A. McNeil, and David L. Richmond decided to sit down at the segregated lunch counter at FW Woolworth’s in Greensboro North Carolina.  It is a lesson that we witnessed in Tianment Square, Beijing, June 5, 1989 when a man in black pants and a white shirt stood in front of a column of advancing tanks during the crackdown against pro-democracy protestors.  We joined hands in the face of great power when the Jewish community called out to the world about the plight of our brothers and sisters in the former Soviet Union.

This lesson in courage is that without saying anything eloquent, we can stand up for what is right and just.  We can stand up in front of the greatest power in the world and like Joshua in battle, cause the sun to hold still in the sky. 

We have seen this lesson in the way that protestors in Syria have stayed in the streets while soldiers and military vehicles occupy their cities, with mass arrests, and thousands dead – gone but not forgotten.

We have seen this lesson in the way that on several occasions over the past weeks, communities have come together across northern New Jersey to stand in solidarity with the Jewish community in response to anti-Semitic attacks. 

 Moses and Aaron go before Pharaoh with no magic of their own.  The Malbim (19^th c.) notices that Pharaoh calls on his magicians to repeat the feats of Moses and Aaron in the same way that God calls on his two servants to go before Pharaoh.  The powers that be act through representatives.  While we may not have the face to face relationship to God that Moses enjoys, we can still be the agents of the Holy One, the Source of Justice.  We may not be able to change a stick into a snake, or bring thick darkness on the land, but we are not powerless. 

Winter cold may herd us indoors but do not let the cold air, wind, and snow keep us wrapped up and hidden away from the issues, difficulties, and problems that we face in our communities, in our country, across the world.

Even during the winter there is life in trees and plants as they wait patiently for the sun – in winter they put on armor to protect themselves from the elements, but they do not give up.  They may lose leaves, and a few branches along the way, but the roots stay strong in the ground. 

What issue will each of us be able to address this winter?  May the warmth of the coming spring remind us of the courage of Moses and Aaron who went before Pharaoh in the winter of the people’s discontent and emerged with new life on their walk to freedom.

Shabbat Shalom.

Who am I? - Dvar Torah, Parshat Vayechi 2012

Vayechi 2012/5772

Who am I?

Rabbi Neil A. Tow©

I was watching a movie (“Arranged” 2007 – written by Stefan Schaefer), a fictional story, recently about an Orthodox Jewish teacher who becomes a friend to an observant Muslim teacher who are working in the same school in Brooklyn.

In an effort to bring together the 4^th grade class, these two teachers hold a program for them called a ‘unity circle’.  Each student writes a word that describes him or her, tapes it onto his or her shirt, and then one by one each student shares the word with the group.  One student has the word ‘nasty’ on his shirt.  The teachers ask if the other students want to have a student who is ‘nasty’ in their circle. They say no.  A moment later, the student’s friend asks him if he might consider changing his word so he can rejoin the circle.

Who am I?

It is difficult to think of how we might boil that question down into only one word.

If we were forced to choose one word, what one word would we choose?

Let’s think about it for a moment.

With even two, or three, or ten words it might still be difficult to describe ourselves.

In short poetic sequences, Jacob in this week’s parsha describes his sons, describes them in messages that we read as prophecies for the future since Jacob introduces them as “what will befall you in days to come”.

Reuven is ‘unstable as water’, Judah will be praised by his brothers, For Shimon and Levi ‘their weapons are tools of lawlessness’, Dan is a ‘serpent by the road’, Joseph is a ‘wild donkey by the spring, a wild colt on the hillside.’

Do these terms describe the brothers well?  Do they tell us where they are and where they will be later on?  Can the brothers grow out of these descriptions of themselves or are they stuck?

I have observed in the past that Jewish religious thinking does not identify individuals by one moniker, one name, one trait –  just as a teacher is not only a teacher but much more than that, just as any of us are more than the sum of our professional or other activities.  But at the same time, parshat Vayechi helps us realize that although we might well be described, albeit superficially, by a poetic rendering of our character and its impact on our destiny, it is difficult to act through multiple layers of ourselves at the same time. 

Just as it is unsafe to drive, while talking on the phone, eating an energy bar, and disciplining kids in the back seat, it is hard to be accountant and parent at exactly the same time, hard to be a tailor and good friend to someone who is suffering at exactly the same time.

In a given moment, most often, we express one part of ourselves at a time.

And so let us come back to where we started, the unity circle exercise where each person carries one word that represents him or her – and this week, let us choose one word, one part of ourselves, one aspiration, and figuratively wear it, and let it be the filter of our thoughts and actions. 

Maybe it’s listening – I’m going to focus this week on being a good listener, no speaking until the other person finishes, thinking carefully about the other person’s words and gestures.

Maybe the word is God – this week I’m going to look for the spark of God in every person, every animal, every tree, every piece of food I eat.

Maybe the word is peace – I’m going to think peace, foster peace, contemplate peace.

Choose that one word now, take a moment – then let’s allow to it sink in to our mind, into our heart.

And we’ll see where it takes us…