Vaera 5774: The Gates of Resolution Are Always Open
I’ve been privileged now for the fourth year in a row to
have this particular sermon slot- the last word, as it were, in the secular
year of 2013. A colleague of mine
recently wished me a “Happy Secular New Year,” a reminder that saying, “Happy
New Year” without any subtle tip-of-the-hat to the complexity of living with
two calendars wouldn’t quite cut it.
Because we in the Jewish community love to clarify, to modify, to add nuance—especially regarding matters of
secular culture.
In fact, it’s not only religious culture that ritualizes our
lives; secular culture too is infused with meaningful ritual, whether we
recognize it or not. On the 4th
of July we mark the value of Independence, of self-determination and freedom.
And of course New Years Eve is one of the more prevalent moments, an occasion
which in our dominant culture prompts many of us to pause, often to gather with
friends or family, and engage in important rituals like…. staring at a shiny
ball on television (wondering: is it going to do anything else other
than…descend, or is that it?).
One of the more important aspects of the Secular New Years, and an aspect that I’d argue Judaism
endorses, is an occasion for resolutions.
The concept of the New Years Resolution is totally Jewish,
we just do it at different moments. And
not only Rosh Hashanah, but also throughout the whole 10 Days of Awe.
And not only throughout the 10 Days of Awe but on our 3 Festivals—Sukkot,
when we RESOLVE to be grateful; Passover when we RESOLVE to love Freedom and
pursue Justice for those who still suffer under the oppressive whip of modern
day Pharaohs; And Shavuot, when we RESOLVE to devote ourselves to learning and
living out our Torah.
We are steeped in a tradition drunk on beginnings, on
resolutions, and New Years Eve in our secular culture is a welcome reminder
that – in the words of the midrashist, “the gates of teshuva, of resolution, are always open” (Devarim Rabbah).
And yet, as we recognize the prevalent message in secular
space that calls out: “resolve to do this, resolve to do that,” we find
ourselves this week reading about a Prophet who struggles mightily with his own
RESOLVE.
Moses does not lead with resolutions and affirmations of his
own capability; he begins his mission with extraordinary insecurity,
self-doubt, and flat-out refusal of his own potential.
The Rabbis used to sit around & tell stories imagining
Moses sitting in the room with them: how he’d react if were learning in their
own classroom. Well, we ourselves might
imagine Moses at a New Year’s party.
Everyone goes around – one person
says, “I’m resolving to work out more—I’m gonna run 5 times a week!” Another
person chimes in, “I’m gonna actually leave work by 5:30 every single day, no
excuses!” Another resolution, “I’m gonna
join the coalition to raise the minimum wage, devoting my evenings after work
to join meetings and fight the good fight!”
Moses hears this and says, “well,
I’d like to work out but I’ve got bad sciatica, I need to use this staff. I wish I could leave at 5:30, but God’s hours
are really tough, I don’t know I should probably sit by my desk on this
mountain. And I would do the whole
social justice thing, but my voice hurts, I’m pretty slow at the whole
communication thing.”
Moses’ early life is marked by refusal to do great
stuff. God commissions him, and he finds
reason after reason to say “no.”
We first read of God’s
resolution for Moses last week, in chapter 3:
And the
Eternal said (to Moses), "I have marked well the plight of My people in
Egypt and have heeded their outcry because of their taskmasters; yes, I am
mindful of their sufferings. I have come
down to rescue them from the Egyptians and to bring them out of the land to a
good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey.... The cry of the Israelites has reached Me...
Come, therefore, and I shall send you to Pharaoh, and you shall free My people,
the Israelites, from Egypt."
There it is, Moses, your
New Year’s resolution, in a letter from God, sealed with a kiss. And Moses reacts with no less than 5 refusals—last
week and this week in Parashat Vaera:
At
first: “Moses replied to God, "(Mi anochi) Who am I that I should go
to Pharaoh and free the Israelites from Egypt?" And God said, "I will
be with you...."
Moses
continues refusing: (3:13) Moses said to God, "When I come to the
Israelites... [what should I tell them your name is?]....
(4:1) Moses said to God, "What if they do
not believe me and do not listen to me, but say ‘God didn’t appear to
you'?"
And
here’s his most significant refusal, followed by God’s most pertinent
response:
(4:10)
But Moses said to the Eternal, "Please, O my lord, I have never been good
with words, either in times past or now that You have spoken to Your servant; I
am slow of speech and slow of tongue."
And the
Eternal said to him, "Who makes them dumb or deaf, seeing or blind? Is it not I the Eternal? Now go and I will be with you as you speak
and will instruct you what to say."
What an amazing answer by
God to a refusal of a resolution—I made
you this way, God says. I know who
you are—I know who you can become. This
is your resolution.
Then of course Moses says:
“Please, make someone else your agent."
So what does Moses, this remarkably insecure character,
offer us for Tuesday evening, if all he has to say is “I can’t”—5 times, in
fact.
In fact, Moses’ refusal to
accept God’s resolution for him has everything to do with the practice of
making resolutions for ourselves.
God, a Being connected to
the world-as-it-should-be is pitching a resolution to Moses based on who he
SHOULD be. Moses entrenched in the
world-as-it-is sees himself- and all his flaws- and in the face of this
extraordinary resolution says, “no.”
But the story of Moses as it
unfolds is about a human being who spends his entire life trying to bridge that
gap. The gap between who he is, between
what he is given, and who he can become.
We are studying a character who develops, who grows, who
balances faith with sacred doubt, and has he grows he becomes more wise, more
accomplished, more resolved, and MORE … HIMSELF. Moses is a character who, in the fullest
sense, BECOMES himself.
A famous Hasidic tale tells of Reb Zusya, lying
on his death bed; he was very upset and crying, tears streaming down his face.
His students asked with great concern, “Reb
Zusya, why are you upset? Why are you crying? Are you afraid when you die you
will be asked why you were not more like Moses?”
Reb
Zusya replied, “I am not afraid that the Holy One will ask me ‘Zusya, why were
you not more like Moses?’ Rather, I fear that the Holy One will say, ‘Zusya,
why were you not more like Zusya?’”
Moses took what God gave him, and became Moses. He wasn’t given a great name (he was named by
an Egyptian). He wasn’t given great
speech abilities; he wasn’t given immense self-confidence. He became … who he was meant to be.
As we all make our resolutions, whether next week or next
year, may they guide us to become- not like Moses, not like Zusya- but more like
who we’re meant to become.
Shabbat Shalom and Happy Secular New Year.