Re'eh 5771

Since human beings have free will, our lives are full of choices—where to live, whom (or whether) to marry, what’s for dinner.  Minute by minute, year after year, the choices we make impact us.  We become who we are thanks in substantial part to the choices we’ve made.

Someone very wise (I no longer remember whom) once taught me the difference between a choice and a decision.  The word “decision” is derived from the Latin “dēcīdere,” literally “to cut off.”  When we decide, we cut off a possibility—“this and never that.”  When we chose, on the other hand, we leave the possibility open—“this and maybe that.”  When we chose, we can return to an option and explore it later.  When at a crossroads, it’s helpful to know whether you are making a choice or a decision.

In this week’s parshah, Re’eh, God tells us that we’re perpetually at a crossroads:

See, this day I set before you blessing and curse:  blessing, if you obey the commandments of the Eternal your God that I enjoin upon you this day; and curse, if you do not obey the commandments of the Eternal your God but turn away from the path that I enjoin upon you this day and follow other gods whom you have not experienced.  (Deuteronomy 11:26-28)

The High Holy Days are approaching.  They offer us the opportunity and obligation for t’shuvah/repentance.  How do we know whether our t’shuvah is real?  When we have another chance to engage in the same hurtful activity and decline to do so—that is, when a choice becomes a decision.

Ekev 5771

The Torah teaches a counter-intuitive truth:  victory can come too quickly.  When we struggle, all we want is immediate success.  But this might not in fact be the healthiest result.

“YHVH your God will dislodge those peoples before you little by little; you will not be able to put an end to them at once, else the wild beasts would multiply to your hurt” (Deuteronomy 7:22).

On the surface, the Torah is talking about the land’s carrying capacity—without sufficient people and industry, it will grow wild and inhospitable.  But the Hassidic masters understood the Hebrews’ biblical battle to attain the Promised Land to be a metaphor.  It stood for any personal, spiritual battle—against an “evil inclination,” like addiction, laziness, or greed, for example. The un-dislodged enemies are remnants of negative aspects we haven’t yet banished from ourselves.  The “little by little” represents personal failures, errors, or set-backs that stand between us and ultimate victory.  While these are often painful, disappointing or upsetting, might there be any way to understand them as beneficial to the process? 

Perhaps set-backs can become opportunities.  Perhaps they can remind us of our fragility, that we are not invincible, and encourage us to invite and value help.  Perhaps they can encourage us to refresh our skills, or acquire new ones.   Perhaps set-backs can remind us of where we don’t want to be, and thereby help us rededicate ourselves to the victory.

For personal progress to be sustained, we need time to adjust to the new realities in our lives.  New, unexpected threats can emerge.  In a culture of quick fixes and instant gratification, patience can be infuriating—even if it builds better, longer lasting results. 

Friar Laurence advised Romeo:  “Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.”

Temple Emanuel's beautiful building, at sunset

Jake!

V'etchanan 5771

We human beings lead limited lives, bounded by our birth and our death.  Our mortality is one of the ultimate laws of our existences.  I suspect that this is the truth represented by God’s adamant insistence that Moses not cross the Jordan westward into the Promised Land (Deuteronomy 3:26)—the west represents the future, and no human being (not even the great Moses) can arrive alive at the future.  Despite all our desire, all our protestation, we can only live right now.

We cannot reach the future, but we can influence it.  In the first paragraph of the V’ahavta, sourced as well from this week’s parshah, the Hebrews are commanded to “impress (these words of instruction) upon your children” (Deuteronomy 6:7).  A few verses later, we are coached how to answer our children when they ask us “What mean the decrees, laws, and rules that the Eternal our God has enjoyed upon you?” (9:20).

Raising healthy children (our family’s and the community’s), imbuing them with good values, teaching them how to function properly in the world—this is how we cross westward, into the future.  This week, when the Syndi Scheck Yad b’Yad Preschool opened its doors for another boisterous, joyous year, I am reminded of the words of educator Christa McAuliffe:  “I touch the future.  I teach.”

D'varim

“You have stayed long enough at this mountain[i],” God tells Moses shortly after he received the Torah there.  How could that be?  On the mountain top, Moses was in extreme communion with God.  According to the Tradition, he ascended to the Heavenly throne room, all sapphire[ii] and smoke[iii], and saw the future in Rabbi Akiba’s own classroom[iv].  Too long in such a state?  Religious people might be forgiven for thinking that forever wouldn’t be long enough.

Moses had to descend to attend to his rebellious people, but the lesson is a good one for us, too.  All things, even the very best, have their moment.  A great business idea is worthless if there aren’t sufficient consumers.  Successful home buying doesn’t just rely on the market—the family must be ready, too.  Heart-to-heart conversations are vital, but can do more damage than good if not timed correctly.  Timing is an art; too early or too late can harm the results.

How do you know when the time is right?  Research helps, of course.  You’ve got to think an important move through fully.  But intuition matters, too.  I think our gut can help us decide not only whether to do something, but also when to do it.

“There is a time for all things under heaven,” Kohelet/Ecclesiastes[v] tells us.  In addition,

There is a time for the mountain above, and a time for the valley below.

There is a time for solitude and a time for community.

There is a time for serenity and a time for activity.

There is a time for review and a time for movement.

There is a time for rest and a time for action.

Knowing what to do is half the battle.  The other half is knowing when.

[i] Deuteronomy 1:6; Parashat D’varim

[ii] Exodus 24:10

[iii] Isaiah 6:4

[iv] Babylonian Talmud Menachot 29b

[v] Ecclesiates/Kohelet 3:1

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