Lessons from a Cold Day in Chicago, Thanks to USY

In 1982, my parents gave me a wonderful birthday present.  They sent me to the United Synagogue Youth (USY) International Convention in Chicago.  Little did I know that this was more than a trip, but the beginning of a deeper engagement with Judaism.

Every December my older brothers, Arnie and Marc, returned from these week long excursions in Los Angeles, Toronto, DC, and Florida tired, yet so happy. They also had great "swag" and new t-shirts from other USY regions - CHUSY, METNY, Far West - and lists of phone numbers and addresses of new friends from all over the country. As soon as they got home, the phone never stopped ringing. After hearing about their experiences for so many years, I couldn’t wait to go myself!

The Chicago convention was held at the McCormick Inn. Over 800 USYers and staff people attended the convention. Eight hundred sounds like a lot, but, at that time, it was the smallest convention in the 45 year history of USY.

As I entered the opening ceremony, I was overwhelmed by what I saw.  In front of my own eyes, there were a sea of Jewish teenagers singing Hebrew songs, dancing, and cheering out of enthusiasm for their regions and their religion.  There was electricity in the room.

At the conclusion of this opening ceremony, we “davened" (prayed)  Minhah, the afternoon service. I had never participated in a minyan that large before. Equally impressive was the fact that the service, and all services at the convention for that matter, was led by someone my age, another teen.

Another highlight of that week took place during sightseeing. At the Museum of Science and Industry, of all places, I had a significant experience, one that helped shape my Jewish identity. While impressed with the architectural beauty of Chicago, I specifically remember being cold, really cold.

Waiting for the buses to pick us up, several hundred of us stood in the entrance lobby singing.  We sang Jewish songs, like Henay Ma Tov, Lo Yisa Goi, Eitz Hayim Hee, David Melech Yisrael, and Oseh Shalom.  It was wonderful.  I had never felt so proud to be a Jew, especially in public.

Yet all of a sudden I felt something on my head.  Placing my hand there, I felt my kippah.  My kippah!?!  I did know what to do.  I had never worn my kippah outside before. In the synagogue was one thing, but in public!?!  I had started wearing my kippah at home, but never, ever outside.  In essence, I exemplified Moses Mendelsohn’s opinion of how a Jew should behave in the modern world.  He said that “he should be a Jew in the home and a man on the street.”

I had forgotten to take off my yarmulke when we left the hotel.  What was I to do?  A part of me wanted to take it off immediately. As I looked up I saw that many of the other teens also wore their kippot. With a little courage and a burgeoning sense of conviction, I decided to leave my kippah on.

From this brief moment in my life I derived two major realizations.  First, there is strength in community. It is easier to practice Judaism with others than alone.  Second, if I felt proud of being Jewish at home, then why not away from home as well.  Isn’t this one of the major points of the Ve’Ahavta prayer? 

I decided that wearing my kippah at all times is a sign of my relationship to God as well as my pride in my tradition, and that I never want to let this feeling to subside. My head has never been uncovered since.

Whenever I hear about the dismal predictions about our Jewish future, all I do is remember this special moment in my life. I can still hear the songs, still feel the passion and ruach and still experience the unfiltered Jewish pride that animated our group that day.

I learned all this on a cold day in Chicago. Thanks to USY!

A Rainbow, A Coat And JFK

A Rainbow, A Coat And JFK

Thanks to the Broadway show, most people know about Joseph's "Coat of Many Colors". On the most basic level, a coat represents a sentiment of care and love. Over the centuries this one article of clothing has captured our imagination because of the hope and disappointment woven into it.

What was it about this coat - what my 5 year old calls "a striped sweatshirt" - that was so special? This coat of many colors was a mechanism to express Jacob's special relationship to Joseph. Some commentators also understand the gift as an explicit gesture to highlight Joseph's leadership potential.


In light of Joseph's dreams and statements of grandeur, we might wonder if giving Joseph this coat was such a good idea. The gift and its expressive tones had the potential to provoke conflict and jealousy, and it ultimately did.

I believe that Jacob knew what he was doing, and the coat's rainbow colors give us a clue of his intentions. This famous multicolored coat reminds us of the rainbow after the flood. God makes a brit, a covenant, with humanity with a rainbow to symbolize a return to peace and security. 

The question has been asked, why would a covenant be symbolized by a half bow rather than a full circle? Rabbi Shlomo Riskin explains that the half bow is a symbolic challenge. While God pledges to not destroy humanity ever again, humankind is responsible for not destroying ourselves.

Jacob gives Joseph a rainbow coat as an attempt to declare boldly that the age of brotherly pettiness,  divisiveness and fratricide is over. 

Jacob dares to hope of a new age, of a new way of being. Unfortunately, his sons and their generation are not ready.

Shortly thereafter, Jacob's other sons show up with a torn multicolored coat drenched in blood.

This Shabbat we remember JFK, another dreamer. His youth, vitality and dreams were electrifying. He challenged us to re-imagine society, to stand up against injustice, and even to reach for the moon. 

Fifty years ago today, we were confronted again with another dreamer cloaked in blood.
 

While I am sad about the loss of JFK, my heart still aches for the 20 children and 6 adults  murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary School, the 3 killed and hundreds of wounded in the Boston Marathon bombing, and the 1,000 Syrian men, women and children killed by their own government in August.

The sad reality is that the problem of violence in society and the fear associated with it have been a part of human civilization and Jewish life forever and is not going away so fast. 

One response could be to run away and hide. But this exactly what the hate crimes perpetrators want.  

The response to Boston Marathon bombings was like a shofar blast heard around the world: "Boston Strong". Boston Strong is more than a slogan. It is a principled, courageous position that we are not giving into the fear, the hate and the violence.

We have no time to live in fear. We have coats to deliver, dreams to fulfill and, most importantly, another half of the rainbow to create.

While we may wonder whether we are ready, our patriarch Jacob urges us then and now not to hesitate. The future of humanity depends on us to lead the way cloaked in coats of many colors.

"What Went Wrong? Moses and The Rock"

"What Went Wrong? Moses Barred from the Promised Land"

Parshat Hukkat - June 14, 2013/ 7 Tammuz, 5773

 

In this week's Torah portion, Hukkat, we witness one of the most painful moments in the life of Moshe, our greatest teacher. At Mei Merivah - the waters of contention - Moses learns that he will not lead the Jewish people into the Promised Land because he did not follow God's command to speak to a rock.

 

What makes this episode so confusing is that the punishment does not seem to fit the crime. How can it be that Moses was punished so severely for what appears to be a minor infraction, especially when his erroneous actions bring forth water from the rock anyway?

 

Truth be told, there are other contentious episodes in Sefer Bamidbar when Moses' leadership could have been more effective. The failed mission of the spies, the rebellion of Korah and the grumbling of Miriam indicate that Moses's leadership is being challenged, even by those closest to him. Despite these challenges, it appears that Moses has job security as God's chosen leader of the Children of Israel.

 

If Moses could weather these storms of rebellion and discontent, then why would he be dismissed for what appears to be a minor infraction?

 

Moses and the rock is one of the most well known stories in the Torah. After the death of Miriam, the people want water. They go directly to Moses and Aaron, who are flustered by the intense grumbling of the people. After praying to Hashem, Moses is told to bring his staff and speak to a rock. Before fulfilling this directive, Moses angrily addresses the people. And then he hits the rock not once, but twice, after which waters gushes forth and quenches their thirst.

 

One might assume that since the end result is that the people's thirst is quenched, Moses would be forgiven. However, God immediately informs Moses that he is barred from the Promised Land because he did not sanctify God in the eyes of the people.

 

In light of this haunting story, we ask what went wrong?

 

Troubled by this very question, our traditional commentators try to explain why Moses' actions warrant a punishment that appears harsh to our human eyes.

 

Maimonides approaches this question from a leadership perspective. He believes that Moses' punishment is connected to his tone when addressing the people. He asserts:

"His whole sin lay in erring on the side of anger and deviating from the mean of patience, when he used the expression, 'Listen now, you rebels!' God censured Moses for this, that a man of his stature should vent his anger in front of the whole community of Israel, where anger was not called for." (Shemonah Perakim, Rambam's introduction to Pirke Avot)

The anger exhibited by Moses could have been misconstrued that Hashem was angry at the people for asking for their most basic human needs, namely sustenance. As a leader, Moses needs to be held accountable for his actions.

 

Nachmanides takes issue with how Moses introduces the miracle of bringing forth the water:

Moses made the fatal mistake of saying, 'Shall we bring forth water,' instead of saying 'Shall God bring you forth water,' as in all the other miracles where the power of God is always explicitly stressed. .. The people might have been misled into thinking that Moses and Aaron had extracted the water for them, by their own skill. Thus, they failed to 'sanctify Me (God) in the midst of the Children of Israel.

This interpretation reminds us of the concerns of the rabbis who wrote the Passover Hagaddah that limits Moses' exposure in order to eliminate any confusion about the divine source of miracles in Exodus.

 

Instead of analyzing what Moses did, Rashi focuses on his act of omission, namely not speaking to the rock as directed at Mei Merivah. He writes:

If you had spoken to the rock and it had brought forth water, I (God) would have been sanctified in the eyes of the congregation; and they would have said: "If this rock, which does not speak, does not hear, and does not require sustenance, fulfills the word of God, then certainly (we should do so)."

Rashi believes that by not speaking to the rock, Moses misses an opportunity to show the power of God. In his view, the people would be inspired by the rock changing its nature.

 

While Rashi's commentary is crucial to understanding what went wrong, I believe that the miraculous change of nature waiting to unfold involves not the rock, but Moses himself.

 

As we know, God tells Moses specifically to speak to the rock. This instruction is directed to a man who describes himself thirty nine years earlier as "not a man of words", which refers to his stutter. One can imagine the impact of a self-proclaimed non-man-of-words making water come out of a rock through speech supported by God.

 

In my opinion, this entire episode is God's test to see if Moses still sees himself as he did nearly forty years earlier. The question is whether Moses is still enslaved by his own physical challenges and insecurities, and what's at stake is the future leadership of the Jewish people.

 

By not speaking to the rock, Moses unfortunately shows that, despite God's assurances and countless miracles over 39 years, he still sees himself as he did before. Moses doesn't realize that to lead the next generation into Israel, God seeks someone who believes - and models - that we are all capable of becoming more than we ever imagined ourselves to be.

 

What appears to be a small infraction symbolizes the need for new leadership. In this painful story, Moses serves, once again, as our greatest teacher about what holds us back and how we can move forward.

 

Let My People Go ... To The Western Wall

Let My People Go … To The Western Wall

By Rabbi Charlie Savenor

In just a few days we will celebrate Passover, commemorating the Exodus from Egypt and the birth of our people. The process of freedom begins with Moses urging Pharaoh to “Let my people go!” This mantra called for the Jewish people to have the freedom to praise God in our own way.

On March 12^th I had the unique privilege of davening (praying) with over 350 people at “Wake Up for Religious Tolerance” in support of Women of the Wall. Every Rosh Chodesh (the beginning of the Hebrew month) these dedicated, brave women advocate for freedom of Jewish religious expression at the Kotel, assembling in the women’s section to pray, connect and celebrate their Judaism together.

The inspiring service at Town and Village Synagogue included Jews of all ages, from all movements. The mission was similar to our people's original call for religious freedom, “Let my people go!” However, this time the struggle is a private, existential one, located in our spiritual homeland.

To pray to God in our own way.

 

In just a few days, we will gather around the Seder table. The centerpiece of this experience, besides the Seder plate, is questioning, beginning with the well-known refrain, “Mah nishtanah?” How is this night different from all other nights?
 

As we approach Passover this year, four new questions have emerged for the Kotel, the State of Israel and Jewish community worldwide.

1) On all other days, we “break bread”as a sign of coming together, but today, why does the unity of the Jewish people feels like it’s crumbling like matzah?

The Kotel, considered by many to be Judaism’s holiest site, has become off limits to liberal Jews, especially women who want to wear a tallit, read Torah and even recite the Shema out loud. With every passing month, more and more women, like my friend Rabbi Robyn Fryer Bodzin, have been arrested for this act of prayer.

It feels heretical to state but sometimes, the Kotel feels like a sacred wall between the liberal Jews and the State of Israel.
 

2) During Passover we remember the leadership, courage and song of Miriam, sister of Moses. Tonight, why can’t we hear the voice of the myriad modern day Miriams at the Kotel?
 

After the Six Day War, we cried tears of joy when we heard the words: "The Kotel is in our hands!" With religious pluralism in Israel in question, is this still true?

Who is included in the word “Our?”
 

The tragic truth is that just a few decades later, the Kotel, an eternal symbol of Israel and Jewish life, has been rezoned as an orthodox synagogue. This new incarnation of the Kotel excludes the millions of liberal Jews who visit the Western Wall and want to daven in their own, authentic way.

Judaism is a heritage that honors its matriarchs. Miriam led the women in song at the Red Sea. Hannah created the paradigm for prayer. Esther inspired a community to action through fasting and introspection.

Today female voices have been silenced at the Western Wall. As a result, the Kotel has become a no-man's land - or a no woman zone to be more accurate - for most of Am Yisrael.

3) Visiting the Kotel can be a moment of tremendous joy, so why for many has this experience become a bitter one?

 

What’s happening in Israel is not just about the Kotel and the Women of the Wall. It is a symptom of a larger phenomenon of limited religious tolerance in Israel in general.

Twenty years I led a USY group on a tour of Poland and Israel. After a week of visiting death camps, we landed in Israel and our first stop was the Western Wall. As we started to pray in the back of the plaza, a handful of haredi (ultra orthodox) men gathered around us, calling us names like “goyim” and“Nazis”. They loudly demanded that we disband. One even spat in our direction.

As our staff made a circle around our group, thankfully, at this very instant, a handful of Kotel security guards approached our group. I was certain that the guards would tell the haredim to leave us alone.
 

Instead, with a tired shrug, they directed us to disband. Their frustrated expression exposed that they have done this before.

We came not to provoke, but rather to invoke God’s presence at a sacred site. What had been tears of joy after Poland were now sobs of sorrow and confusion in Israel.
 

4) On all other days we can sit or recline, so why must we stand up today?

For years the Israeli government has either been silent or given lip-service about the growing fundamentalist threat within its own borders and the need for religious pluralism. It was the same message I received from the shrugging Kotel guard nearly 20 years ago: it is just easier to go along, so no one gets hurt.

However, by remaining silent for too long, our homeland has sacrificed its inner peace. Even worse, the silence has been mistaken for permission to curse at, spit upon, arrest and detain those who do not conform to certain religious standards.

We can be silent no longer. We must stand up for religious equality in Israel.

For years we have stood with Israel. Now we need Israel to stand with us.

By some cruel twist of fate, non-haredi Jews have largely become spiritual refugees in their own land. What gives me hope is that Natan Sharansky, the most famous Soviet refusenik, now head of the Jewish Agency  understands what is at stake when Jews are barred from their homeland and its holy sites.

Passover is a time of hope in new beginnings. In the spirit of this great epic tale – the story of the birth of the Jewish People -- let us raise our voices as one and proclaim, “Let my people go!” … to the Kotel.

 

Rabbi Charlie Savenor is the International Director of Kehilla (Congregational) Enrichment for United Synagogue. He is currently writing a book on parenting. He can be reached at savenor@uscj.org. 

Lessons from LIMMUD NY

Recently my family and I attended LIMMUD NY, a four day Jewish learning experience. Over 850 people participated in what was essentially the educational equivalent of a delicious buffet with something for everyone.

A big part of the excitement at LIMMUD comes from the fact that multiple sessions run concurrently, so people need to choose what they will attend. It is not uncommon to hear participants bemoan the fact that there are so many excellent choices they don't know what to do. "Do I go hear Danny Gordis or Ruth Messenger? Vanessa Hidary or Eli Valley?" 

The creative tension from these conversations was inspiring. In an age of soundbites, it was refreshing to decide how to spend a quality 60 to 75 minutes of Torah Lishmah (study for its own sake). Going to what you want also infuses the conference with an open quality. LIMMUD calls this "learning without limits". 

LIMMUD, which means learning, was the brainchild of Clive Lawton of the UK. This powerful experience has several pillars that contribute to its success. The first one is an open environment that welcomes meaningful engagement. No labels, no boundaries, just learning. While most people come to learn, many were there as volunteers. In fact, every speaker volunteers, for no speaker is paid. This conference constitutes an egalitarian effort that is actualized by all those who attend. 

The only leadership label is that of "connectors", volunteers who have been asked to start conversations, introduce people and to keep the discussions going in the hallways, over meals and in the elevators. By the way, elevators are the best places to make new friends.

Another pillar is empowerment. As mentioned above, participants are responsible to make their own schedules. So much so that no announcements were made during the 4 days. Schedules were readily handed out and available via a schedule app. This empowering atmosphere is similar to making your own playlist on your iPod. Just like finding the right song on your playlist, at LIMMUD it is commonplace for participants to float from session to session until they find what speaks to them during that time slot. 
 
I was deeply impressed that people came because they just wanted to be there. The spirit of openness, sincere curiosity and amazing choices were simply amazing. And it helped that my kids loved Camp LIMMUD, which was run by incredible staff who were trained by Ramah Nyack!

One eye-opening experience for me was the large number of Conservative Jews in attendance. United Synagogue conventions have become smaller over the past decade than in previous years. Similar to trends regarding the UJC GA, some have claimed that these declining numbers can be attributed to changes in leadership, membership, priorities, volunteerism, the movement in particular and American Judaism in general.

Interesting enough, at least half of the LIMMUD NY participants come from the Conservative Movement, including their executive director, David Wolkin, who studied at JTS. In fact, the largest synagogue group came from Tifereth Israel, the Conservative congregation in Glen Cove, NY, with 17 people. The number of people who officially registered as Conservative is 28%, and from observing who went to what service on Shabbat and multiple conversations about affiliation, I believe this number to be over 50%.  That hundreds of Conservative Jews came simply to learn is a a sign of vitality. 

What does this mean? It means that people will attend a conference when they believe that it will be personally meaningful. LIMMUD NY was not inexpensive, yet people came. People will travel, volunteer, study, be open to new ideas if the experience speaks to them, inspires them, and is essentially about them. If a conference will enhance their lives, nurture their souls, expand their minds, they will come.

As you may know, I work for United Synagogue and I am working on the program component of our next conference on October 11-15 in Baltimore. We are planning an unforgettable gathering  to mark the 100th birthday of United Synagogue and the impact of Conservative Judaism.  This "Centennial Celebration" is already coming together.  We are delighted that Rabbi Harold Kushner, Vanessa Hidary, Rabbi Brad Artson, Clive Lawton (mentioned above)  and other dynamic North American thought leaders from both within and outside Conservative Judaism will be with us.

Deeply inspired by the LIMMUD model, we are creating an experience that will attract participants because the topics and takeaways are directly related to today's challenges and opportunities.  Moreover, the tagline of this conference, "The Conversation of the Century", bespeaks our commitment to convene open, relevant discussions and workshops instead of speeches by "talking heads". 

Recognizing the need for different and new voices, the Centennial will feature presenters, facilitators and speakers from all world reflecting a mix of generations and genders. 

The only part of LIMMUD that was not exceptional was the services. Rabbi David Ingber's service on Friday night was the one prayer highlight. It seems that the program is called LIMMUD (study) and not "Tefilla" (prayer) for a reason.

At the Centennial Shabbaton we will feature multiple services on Friday night and Shabbat morning. Rabbi Lizzi Heydemann will lead a spiritual service with her Mishkan Chicago davening team, Hazzan David Propis will lead a cantorial service, Dale Shatz - the backbone of "Friday Night Live" - will conduct a musical service, and Yehuda Solomon of Moshav Band will lead a Carlebach service. The Centennial will be for services what LIMMUD is for study. I already can't decide which service to attend!  

With these prayer options and dynamic learning opportunities, we are confident that we are creating a powerful experience that will attract not only those who consider themselves Conservative Jews, but also anyone who is interested in and committed to a vibrant future for North American Jewry and worldwide.

The lesson from LIMMUD is: Empower people with fantastic choices that are relevant in their lives and they will come ... and come back again.

A Tale of Two Cities: Newtown, CT and Boston, MA

“A Tale of Two Cities: Newtown, CT and Boston, MA”

Parashat Beshalach/ Tu B'Shevat - January 25, 2013/ 15 Shevat, 5773

by Rabbi Charles Savenor

Recently, at the end December, 2012, I had the pleasure of attending the United Synagogue Youth (USY) International Convention in Boston. During the visit, I witnessed nearly 1,000 Jewish youth singing, dancing, davening (praying) and learning with purpose and passion. At one point, I just stood there and watched. It was simply inspiring.

As I watched these youth enjoying the blessing of community, I stopped in my tracks. This public joy and ruach (spirit) was immensely different from the recent mood of our country right now. Images flooded my mind from Newtown, CT, a place just days before stained with tears of sadness, shock and horror. 

The tale of these two cities, so different from one another, began to collide in my mind. While it feels strange to compare, it is not the first time it has been done.

Charles Dickens writes:

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.

It was an age of wisdom; it was an age of foolishness.

It was an epoch of belief; it was an epoch of incredulity.

It was a season of light; it was a season of darkness.

It was the spring of hope; it was the winter of despair.

There was everything before us; there was nothing before us.

The comparisons between Newtown and Boston do not end there. In reading the papers, we know little about the assassin, Adam Lanza. He had few relationships in his town, except for his barber, the one service he could not procure online.

By contrast, the USY convention in Boston was all about relationships. Jewish teens traveled from all over North America to see old friends and make new ones. Over 200 alumni showed up to see friends with whom they grew up and shared many special formative moments.

The Newtown massacre created horror. The Boston convention created a haven. The Newtown massacre created chaos. The USYers created connections.

Just as we can ask why did the killings occur in Newtown, so too can we ask how and why USY has such a positive impact on our youth?

The success of USY in particular and Jewish youth groups in general is based upon building relationships with our teens and listening to what they have to say. It sounds simple, but it is quite challenging. An important element of the programs has been welcoming the feedback of youth and integrating their feedback into the programs, study sessions and meetings in a positive way.

To listen to another person, one signifies that the other party is important.  To listen to our youth, we show that we care about their ideas, their passions, their challenges and their dreams.  Around the country USY chapters make every effort to create a warm, engaging, and comfortable environment for our youth.  Like "Cheers", the goal is to create a place where everyone knows each other’s name and is respected for who they are and for their individuality.

By contrast, it does not sound like Adam Lanza ever felt accepted. What could have been if there was someone who could have understood whatever affected his soul?

It was an epoch of belief; it was an epoch of incredulity.

In Parshat Beshalach, we relive the miraculous Exodus of the Jewish people. With their backs to the Red Sea and the Egyptian army fast approaching them, the people feel great despair. Moments later they are marching through the divided waters to their salvation.

We can imagine their unbounded joy and spirited singing as each step brought them closer to freedom.

Inspired by the events on earth, the angels want to join in the celebration. Just as the angels begin to sing, God quiets them and asserts, "My handiwork is drowning in the sea, and you want to sing before Me?" (Talmud Sanhedrin 39B)

This thrust of this Midrash, which is frequently mentioned during the Passover Seder, is that we don't celebrate when other human beings suffer. This sentiment may explain why this year's USY convention was so powerful for me.

As happy as I was by the nearly 1,000 inspired and inspiring USYers at the convention, my heart ached then and now for the families who would never see their children reach high school. That USY had scheduled months in advance for Pastor Corey Brooks of Chicago and Colin Goddard of Columbine, CO, to speak against gun violence means that its leadership understand USY conventions need to be connected to and a forum to discuss the issues of our day.   

It was a season of light; it was a season of darkness.

Since the advent of the Internet researchers have predicted that the web and email would increase people’s connection to the outside world. I believe there is ample research that disproves this assertion. Spending huge amounts of time of the Internet can ironically make people feel more alienated and isolated.

From my experience as a rabbi and youth leader, I believe our youth are hungry for connections to living, human beings – parents, teachers, youth professionals and clergy. Part of what the Jewish community has done right with USY has been to provide our youth with accessible role models and real connections with their peers and adults.

What can we do today to address the needs of our youth? For parents, I implore you to connect with your children. Spend time together doing something that is positive, hand-on and team oriented. Something as mundane as family dinner, on Shabbat and during the week, can foster connection and communication.

For our youth, I make a special plea that you remember the words: “V’Ahavta Re’Aycha KaMocha,” “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Remember every time we open our mouths that our words can have a major impact on those around us. 

Choose to say the nice thing, give a compliment. There is a beautiful Yiddish folk saying:  “Kindness is remembered, meanness is felt.”  Choose kindness.

It is vital that we open up the doors of the synagogue as wide as the Red Sea so that Jewish youth - of all ages - feel comfortable walking in to connect, learn, grow and become engaged in the original and best social network, namely community.

It was the spring of hope; it was the winter of despair.

It has been a strange few weeks as our national pain and confusion stares across the table at our Jewish youth community's recent joy and feelings of achievement about this annual gathering.

As I think about the Newtown killings, the need to say the Kaddish becomes overwhelming. The Kaddish is not, however, the prayer for the dead. Rather it is the prayer for the living.  It challenges us not only to believe and have faith in God, but also to make the world a better, more welcoming, more peaceful place. That is our job today.

If we begin with a smile and an outstretched hand, we can turn this winter of despair into a spring of hope.

Looking for the Right Person

Looking for the Right Person

Shemot 2013/ 5773

Rabbi Charlie Savenor

When companies have a high-level position to fill, they frequently employ head hunters to locate the
right person for the job. If we were given the task of finding the right person to serve as the leader
of the Children of Israel during the Exodus, what type of qualities would we look for?

The job description for this executive position might read as follows: “This person must be
confident, charismatic, wise, vibrant, patient, creative and intelligent. It is preferred that s/he has
experience in public relations and wilderness economics. Public speaking is a must.”

While these characteristics are what we might expect of a leader, in this week’s Parsha God makes a
surprising selection. His candidate of choice is Moses, a man who is temperamental, easily
discouraged, and somewhat impatient.
 
If this wasn’t bad enough, Moses makes it clear on several occasions that he doesn’t even want the
position. When approached by God to lead the Children of Israel out of slavery, Moses raises
several reasons why God should choose someone else. He says, “Please, Lord, I am not a man of
words, either in the past or now when you have spoken to me. I am slow of speech and slow of
tongue.” (Exodus 4:10)
 
In essence, Moses confides that his problem lies not with the message, but with the messenger.
Traditional and modern scholars have been fascinated by Moses’ self-depiction as khevad peh v’kaved lashon: slow of speech and slow of tongue. This is usually interpreted as stuttering. Rashi and several other traditional commentators embrace a literal interpretation of the text. According to their view, Moses had a speech impediment. In fact, some go so far as to try and pinpoint which sounds represented the greatest challenge to Moses.

Some modern commentators suggest that Moses declines the invitation to lead because he is neither
skilled in the arena of political debate, nor is he what we might consider a charismatic speaker. In
Moses and Monotheism, Sigmund Freud asserts that Moses’ objection, and the need for Aaron as an
interpreter, allude to the fact that “Moses was an Egyptian.”(Pg.38) According to Freud, Moses does not utilize Aaron as an interpreter with Pharaoh, but rather as a tool for connecting with the Children of Israel.
 
As described above, when Moses speaks of his slow speech, one of the Hebrew words used to
describe it is khaved peh. In the coming Torah portions when “Pharaoh hardens his heart,” the Torah
employs the expression “vehakhbaed et lebo.” (Exodus 8:11)

One simple word, kaved, which means heavy or encumbered, lays out the political tension and real
communication problem between Moses and Pharaoh. A man with difficulty in speaking attempts to
get through to a man who will not listen and is indifferent to human suffering.

We might assume that God wants an eloquent speaker and someone who feels ready and eager to
assume a leadership role. But instead, Moses – hesitant, scared and almost the epitome of a broken
vessel – is chosen. In addition to his humility and wisdom, God chooses Moses because of his
imperfections. The irony of the story is that God accepts Moses as he is. It is Moses who needs to
learn to accept himself. Ultimately, Moses was able to be a leader in spite of his limitations.
 
Our world today continues to be challenged by pharaohs with hardened hearts and modern-day
“plagues,” both natural and manmade. The amount of tikkun – healing – that our society and our
global community demands is daunting. Like Moses, we can easily feel dwarfed by the mission
ahead.
 
It is precisely when the task seems so large that we need to remember that Moses’ inadequacies and
hesitations did not hold him back from being a leader. In fact, when exposed firsthand to injustice
and cruelty, he takes immediate action without stopping to consider the personal ramifications. (Exodus 2:11-12)

From this week’s parsha, we learn that the type of leadership needed to transform the world cannot
easily be captured in a job description. We are all like Moses in that each of us has our own faults
and shortcomings. Similarly, each of us has a unique contribution to make – to our communities, to
society, to the world – if only we learn to accept ourselves as we are.


This Dvar Torah originally appeared in 2006 in The American Jewish World Service parsha series.