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Rabbi Mendy Herson's Blog

Thoughts from, and conversations with, Rabbi Herson

You Can Do It

Most of us are familiar with Pharaoh, the villain of the Passover story. He tortured and enslaved the Jews, until G-d sent Moses to demand: "Let my people go!” Ultimately G-d strikes the Egyptians with ten plagues and the Jews are liberated.

Let’s take a deeper peek at the narrative:

Pharaoh is stubbornly self-destructive. Why does he persist in his evil ways, when he knows that freeing the Jews will stop the plagues and ease his pain? Why doesn’t he just do the [self-serving] right thing?

In addition, Scripture clearly says that G-d 'hardened Pharaoh's heart,' reinforcing his stubbornness, and THAT was why he didn't acquiesce to Moses’ demands. So if G-d messed with his mind and he was unable to make a good choice, why is he punished for making a bad one?

Here’s a way to understand Pharaoh, and simultaneously understand more about ourselves:

When a behavior brings painful results, it’s normal – even reflexive -to work toward modifying that behavior; we simply want to avoid the pain. But there’s an exception. It’s when we tell ourselves “I can’t change.”

Let’s say someone finds it difficult to show a spouse emotional support, and therefore catches marital grief. Or someone is less than diligent and consequently suffers at the office. The easy way out is to say “hey, this is the way I am” and then blame others for their lack of understanding.

This pain won’t bring behavioral modification, because the person seems himself as a victim of [other-inflicted] pain, rather than its cause. It’s the other party’s fault.

That doesn’t mean the person can’t change, it’s just that he’s placed himself in a particularly non-growth-inducing spot. His self-righteous pain supports his illusion of "I can't change, so this isn’t about me."

In response to Pharaoh's cruelty, G-d desensitized him enough so that the pain didn’t inspire him to change. Instead of digesting what he was doing to others, he chose to focus on what was being done to him. His own self-improvement wasn't on the table.

But G-d didn’t see him as incapable of growth. G-d just wanted better behavior, and Pharaoh couldn’t find the strength to deliver. He didn't have the moral guts to find his better self.

That was then, this is now. But at a certain level, then is now.

Pharaoh lives on in many of us.

And it’s time for freedom.

The Mission Can't Wait

Tomorrow, the tenth day of the month of Shevat on the Jewish calendar, marks seventy years since the Rebbe’s accepted the  mantle of Chabad's leadership (one year after the passing of Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson, the Rebbe’s predecessor and father-in-law).
The relatively small Chabad community, most of whom had narrowly escaped the Holocaust’s carnage, gathered in Brooklyn to hear their forty-eight year old Rebbe lay out his vision for the future.
Here's a snapshot of what the Rebbe told them:
We yearn and strive for connection with an Infinite G-d, an unfathomable Divine Reality. At the same time, we live in a world that seems shallow, unreasonable and replete with moral challenges.

This is the reality G-d has given to us, by design.

When - in any given decision - we make a virtuous choice, it has cosmic impact. Even it concerns an issue that seems relatively trivial, it matters to G-d and the universe. When we rise above our own egocentric impulses, transcend the bombardment of external distractions, and do the right thing, G-d's essential presence is drawn into our reality.
But life is not just about virtuous individual decisions.  It is when we commit ourselves to a purposeful life, and make a super-rational commitment to Higher Living, that we fulfill our core purpose in life. When we work toward being the person who G-d created us to be, to finding a deep-seated relationship with the Divine, we bring G-d’s Essence into our lives.

Chassidic thought teaches us that a big-picture, super-rational commitment to Higher Living, tempers our occasional tendency toward irrational behavior, i.e. our counter-productive habits. When we get our weaker side in check, we’re poised to make virtuous individual decisions that draw in G-d’s presence.
That’s the prize of our entire reality. All of spirituality, the angels and metaphysical cosmos, are simply players in our daily struggle to live a purposeful life in this otherwise-shallow world.

This has been the challenge of history: Drawing Divine Essence into our human experience. Now, said the Rebbe, we’re finally at the peak of history’s mountain. We’re at the cusp of the Messianic era and we need to bring Moshiach.
It can sound grandiose to think that we’ll accomplish a goal that has eluded previous generations. But we’re standing on giants’ shoulders. Our strength lies in completing what they’ve begun, and what they have granted us the opportunity to achieve.

The Rebbe passed away in 1994, yet his voice still speaks to us.

He’s still telling us: The mission can’t wait.

The Wise Fool

The Book of Proverbs teaches us “The fool believes everything.”

The Midrash identifies this verse as referring to none other than….Moses.

Shocked? So was I.

Moses was intellect personified, a heavenly chosen conduit for Divine wisdom. So how could our Sages attribute this verse to him?

Chassidic thought reframes the ‘fool’ concept to help us understand the depth of this teaching. Moses saw the Jews’ pain during their slavery in Egypt, and how Pharaoh only increased his cruelty in response to Moses’s demands (at G-d’s behest) for freedom. Moses had difficulty reconciling the reality before his eyes with his understanding of a loving, Omnipotent G-d.

So he lashes out: “G-d! Why have You mistreated this people? And why have You sent me? Since I went to Pharaoh to speak in Your name, he has made things worse for the people, and You still have not liberated them!”

G-d’s answers Moses without directly resolving the question. He says: You can do better than that. Have faith in Me, just like your ancestors did.

In other words: Moses’s struggle stemmed from the challenges his experiences were posing to his well reasoned and considered appreciation of G-d.

So G-d says: Let’s use this appreciation differently. You - because you have an outstanding capacity to comprehend Me - need to have faith. You’ve used your reason to become comfortable with Me; now trust me and surrender your intellectual tools. It will be difficult, but you need to be the ‘believing fool’ for this one.

When my children were very young, and I had occasion to discipline them, I assumed – desperately hoped – that they realized that I deeply love them, notwithstanding my need to address their misbehavior. But I realized they may very well not have had the maturity to have faith in me.

I expected more of my older children, hoping they could respect and accept my decisions, even when they couldn’t fully appreciate them.

Moses’ deep perception of G-d’s goodness was precisely what allowed him to have faith in G-d’s Wisdom and Will. The more we work to understand G-d and life, the better equipped and more secure we will be to ‘play the fool’ when the need arises.

With Moses, we’ll be in good company.

Time To Get Past Your Pharaoh

So, it’s 2021, and you’re thinking: some area of my life isn't working, and I need to do better.
That positive realization feels good.
Then you Google “percentage of New Year’s resolutions that fail” (80%) and you wonder why change is so difficult.
Why? Maybe it's because we're ingenious at outsmarting ourselves.
When you feel dissatisfaction with your personal status quo, and can even sense an inclination toward self-betterment, it's easy to feel good about your introspective honesty, and then get back to being exactly who you’ve been. Because, so often, we don't REALLY want to change.
Ancient Jewish texts describe this problem as a ‘Pharaoh syndrome'.
The Exodus saga – with the Jews seeking liberty from the enslaving Egyptians - is also a personal narrative. It depicts our continuous struggle for freedom from our personal 'Egypts' -- impediments to self-actualization. It may be fears, inertia, inaccurate self-perception -- they’re all individual Egypts that block our personal freedom.
Of course, the primary blockage to liberation is what restrained Pharaoh, he of the [Scripturally-described] 'hardened heart'. 
What does it mean to have a 'hardened heart'? 
Pharaoh understood that his actions were self-destructive and bringing ruin upon his country. But he couldn't finalize change. Why? Because his heart wouldn't allow him to translate recognition into behavior modification. He couldn't 'close the deal'. He stubbornly clung to self-destructive behavior in the face of clear realization.
So, from whence the salvation?
Moshe (Moses), of course.
Brilliant as Moshe was, he didn't guide his life by intellect alone. He had a profound, super-rational relationship with the Divine, and that was an important ingredient in his choices.
The most elemental relationships are super-rational. After all, is a parent's commitment to a child purely rational? Should a child's commitment to parents be purely logic-based?
No.
Mobilizing our inner 'Moshe' means selflessly committing to our 'Highest Image', the vision of who G-d created us to be. The 'Moshe method' is a matter of selfless commitment, not logical calculation. This can't be challenged by the 'Pharaoh Syndrome', which prevents the fulfillment of our logical resolutions. 
Simply put: The Moshe method is a much deeper expression of self, and it works on a different wavelength.
So the next time you resolve to change your behavior, see it as a part of your commitment to G-d, see it as an exercise of your relationship with your Destiny and see it as an expression of your very reason for existence.
Then see if Pharaoh - excuses - can block your way.

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