Yitro -- 5776

Photo:  Geir Magne Saetre

Anshe Emet – People of Truth.”  Moses’ father-in-law, Yitro, calls for him to designate such people to serve as chiefs within the community (Exodus 18:21).  What does it mean to be a “Person of Truth”?  How can this aspirational title serve to enhance our lives?

To be a Person of Truth is to hold a metaphorical mirror up to yourself so that you can see yourself as you truly are.  It means being honest about your weaknesses, strengths, abilities, and deficits.  It means owning your past, your relationships, your desires, and your fears.  It means getting real with yourself, even when the truth hurts.  People of Truth adhere to their principles even when it’s difficult to do so.  They keep their word. 

Many of us engage in self-deception, telling ourselves stories of who we are that don’t match objective reality.  Sometimes we believe ourselves to be greater than we truly are (smarter, funnier, more beautiful, more successful), and sometimes we believe ourselves to be less than we truly are (dumber, duller, plainer, less worthy). We become confused when others (spouses, children, bosses, teachers, physicians, for example) don’t see us as we see ourselves.  Mussar leader Alan Morinis describes humility as “taking up the right amount of space” – understanding our true role in any situation, not requiring extra attention nor forgoing our due of sunlight and oxygen.  To do so, we must see ourselves accurately rather than believing our own press.  How tricky this can be!

Honest self-reflection and awareness is no easy feat.  It can hurt.

One way to begin is by looking into an actual mirror for no less than five minutes, noticing each feature, owning your body as it is.  At times this can be painful; at other times, surprising or inspiring.  It’s always insightful.  Another way is to listen deeply to people whose opinions matter, and who are willing to be honest with you.  Many people use therapy to gain insight into themselves.

A slight shift of vowels turns the Hebrew word “emet” into “amoot” – from “truth” to “I will die.” 

That each of us will die is itself among the ultimate truths.  Before the truth of mortality, self-deception becomes petty and meaningless, the chatter of so many birds.  Dishonesty is an impediment to a life lived fully.

What is true about you?

B'shallach -- 5776

The Israelites, recently released from captivity, pour out of Egypt.  Pharaoh chases after, desperate to capture them.  The Torah describes his determination this way:  “YHVH strengthened Pharaoh’s heart” (Exodus 14:8).

That’s how it feels when we get determined or stubborn:  hardened, tightened, rigid.  Fight or flight kicks in.  We feel powerful.  Our hands make fists, our jaws lock, and our field of vision narrows.

This approach isn’t successful for Pharaoh (“God locked the wheels of their chariots so that they moved forward with difficulty” [14:25]), and it’s rarely successful for us.  When we harden, we fail to see possibilities and opportunities.  We overlook allies.  We make poor decisions.

Instead, take a lesson from the ocean.  It is always changing, always rolling.  Waves pass through it and it bends around any corner.  An ocean is fluid enough to divide, even though that’s contrary to its own nature.  When confronted, water relaxes its grip and gets out of the way.

When a situation gets intense, try to be conscious and move yourself in the opposite direction: relax your grip, close your eyes, breath in and out.   Feel how you are feeling in that moment.  Release the requirement that your solution is the only one.  Shift yourself from being an obstacle to moving with the flow. 

Who knows?  Something miraculous might happen.

Va-eira -- 5776

The Exodus tale is an account of a labor dispute:  unpaid workers, toiling under dangerous conditions, negotiate against their powerful boss.  This week, the portion of Va-eira brings us the first seven plagues.  In the initial one, water is transformed into blood.

With these plagues, God turns the tables on the Egyptians.  They come to know suffering as they have meted it out.  It’s fitting, therefore, that the sequence begins with the Egyptians forced to work as they have made the Hebrews work:  “And all the Egyptians had to dig round about the Nile for drinking water, because they could not drink the water of the Nile” (Exodus 7:24).

It’s a clever tactic.  From the outset, the Hebrew side is building empathy among their opponents.  The Egyptians are suddenly stripped of privilege, their existence made precarious and dependent on their own effort.  As they slog in the mud, they will begin to perceive life from the bottom up, both socially and literally.  Thirsty, dirty, and aching, the Egyptians may begin to understand the injustice of their system.  Certainly, their eyes will begin to open.

Freedom will be born from this mud.