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Rabbi Mendy Herson's Blog

Thoughts from, and conversations with, Rabbi Herson

The Freedom To Be Honest

Self-assessment can be a tricky exercise.

On the one hand, we need to be fearlessly honest. Deflecting blame and finger-pointing may be instinctive (who likes to shoulder blame?) but it doesn’t get us anywhere. We need to face our own inadequacies and mistakes, learn from them, and evolve into better people.

But what about the flip side? What if we are so bent on being ‘honest’ that I consistently find fault in my own actions? What if I find myself claiming too much ‘credit’ for collective miscalculations and blunders? What if I start defining myself by my own ‘downside?’

In a strange way, being hard on yourself can make you feel good. You can get a virtue-thrill from being so ‘honest.’ 

But that’s not the authentic, or truly honest path. An honest self-assessment will have me rising above my emotional tendencies – neither ducking blame nor clinging to it – to assess myself objectively (as objectively as I can in a self-assessment). If I try to stand apart from my emotions, and view myself dispassionately, I’ll probably find a ‘mixed bag’ of results; there will be elements that I want to fix, and other elements that I need to continue exercising and expanding.

I assume that I’ll find both of those elements because I’m human, and we’re all a ‘mixed bag.’

I’m describing a level of internal freedom, the freedom to honestly assess oneself, without being sidetracked by one’s emotions. And now is an especially pertinent time to focus on internal freedom, because it’s the Passover season.

Passover isn’t only about our past.

Our ancestors’ story needs to be our story. Passover is a time of Freedom for the human spirit, a season in which we can all transcend our individual ‘Egypts’.

Life is full of ‘Egypts,’ i.e., forces that constrict us, impeding our soul’s healthy expression. These ‘Egypts’ are often internal and self-imposed; and they take many forms: fears, anxieties, self-perceptions, etc. A person’s self-perception can be an ‘Egypt’, since a counter-productive self-perception can really get in the way of a meaningful life.

Passover hands us a tool of liberation in the Matzah.

Matzah is made of flour and water, but it must be prepared and baked quickly, before it can rise. Once it rises, it becomes Chametz (dough that has risen or leavened) and unfit for Passover.

Matzah is simple, flat bread, while Chametz is ‘bloated’. Matzah represents humility, the surrender to honesty; Chametz represents undisciplined emotional expansion and impulse.

Passover, and the Matzah, teach us an important lesson in personal freedom: don’t let your impulses, even your ‘virtuous,’ high-minded ones, run the show.

With humility, you should find the freedom to see – and like – yourself honestly.

That’s a freedom to cherish.

Your Personal Sanctuary

Sanctuary: a place of holiness, a spiritual oasis, or a physical space dedicated to communion with G-d.

G-d told Moses that the Jews “build Me a Tabernacle” – a physical Sanctuary - “and I will dwell within them.” (Exodus 25:8)

The language is curious: The Tabernacle is a singular structure, so why the plural “within them,” and not “within it?” 

Our rabbis derive from this language that – in addition to the literal Sanctuary – G-d was asking each individual to create a Sanctuary within. To transform our lives into vehicles for G-ds presence in the world.

Let’s outline how we build a physical structure and then apply it to our inner Sanctuary.

A: We start off with a clearly-articulated goal (to create a space dedicated to sanctity). B: We build the Sanctuary. C: Finally, we live in ways that are compatible with the Holiness we are seeking to draw into this Sanctuary.

Using this model, we have a plan for building a Sanctuary “within.”

A: Each new day, we set our goal: to designate this as a Day of Meaning, a day that will be a Sanctuary for the Divine. We don’t just surrender to the moment's prevailing winds, which buffett us from hour to hour. 

B. We consider the day‘s basic structure: Are the building blocks of the day ahead consistent with my purpose in life? Is there anything I can foresee that would contradict my reason for existence?

C. We do Mitzvos…both by actively doing good things, and by refraining from doing negative things. 

Actively performing Mitzvah creates a lightning rod for Holiness in your life. And sometimes the beauty is in sitting still, refraining from an action which would impede the flow of Holiness in the world. In both cases, we are bypassing our self-centric needs for the sake of something higher, creating Holy space in our lives, and fashioning a magnet for transcendent Divinity.

Make today a Sanctuary day.

The Shining Soul Of Failure

I believe G-d is counting on me to make good choices, urging me to do good in the world. I also believe that G-d knows that I have the moral strength to do the right thing

Sure, G-d presents me with moral struggles, but He doesn’t set me – or you - up for failure.

Yet, G-d once presented us with a test which He knew we would fail. And, strange as it may sound, it was actually done out of Divine love. When the Jews were liberated from Egypt, and then gathered at Mt. Sinai to receive the Torah, they were in an elevated frame of mind. Having actualized their long-dormant Jewish connection, they were prepared for the most incredible event in all of history.

Standing at the foot of that mountain, they saw the physical world’s Divine purpose with unparalleled clarity, and they enthusiastically embraced their Divine calling.

But then something bizarre happened: A mere forty days after their intimate, face-to-face with G-d, the Jews collaborated to fashion a Golden Calf, saying “This is your god, O Israel…who brought you up from Egypt.”

Sounds like insane spiritual whiplash. What happened? After such an interface with the Divine, how could they have transferred their loyalty to an idol?

It’s an age-old question, even found in the Talmud. Our Rabbis validate the question by assuring that – indeed – the Jews were way better than this tragic offense. So what happened? G-d set them up.

Yes. G-d presented them with the “perfect storm,” a toxic collusion of fear, confusion and strongly alluring self-interest. So that they would make the wrong choice.

Why? Because they needed to taste failure.

The Jews, fresh off the spiritually uplifting Sinai experience, needed to cap things off with a powerful lesson. They needed to experience the cosmic value of turning failure into personal spiritual growth.

Because Torah is about real life. And human life is – depending on your perspective – either littered with mistakes, or sprinkled with growth opportunities.

Let’s choose growth.

 

Opportunities

The Purim story seems pretty basic: Haman, a wicked advisor to the Persian King Ahaseurus, had engineered an evil decree to exterminate the kingdom's entire Jewish population. Unbeknownst to almost everyone, including the king, the Jews had an ‘inside woman’ at the palace. Queen Esther was actually a Jewess! What’s more, she was related to Mordechai, a prominent Jewish leader at the time.

So, Queen Esther worked her magic to save the Jews, who rallied and were victorious over their enemies. The end. Or not? Beyond the happy resolution, this story has a profound message for our daily lives 2,500 years later. Let’s dig a little deeper.

In the narrative, Mordechai finds out about this terrible plan and sends a secret message to Esther, imploring her to beseech the king for mercy. Queen Esther sends back a sad but reasonable response: “The situation is terrible. But I haven't been summoned to the king's quarters for a month now. We all know that no one - under penalty of death - can go to the king's quarters unbidden. There’s nothing I can do to help.”

Mordechai responds with a theological statement that re-frames her world: “If you choose to keep silent, relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from elsewhere… Who knows whether it was for just this reason that you attained your royal position?!”

Esther understood that she was in a unique position to help her people, and that G-d gives us opportunities to use, not squander, them. It’s an inspiring, yet weighty, thought. When we find ourselves in a position to make a difference, we need to take a moment to recognize that what has presented itself isn’t a burden, it’s a responsibility and a Heaven-sent opportunity. It’s an opening for us to actualize our very purpose in life.

None of us knows exactly what G-d has in mind for our lives. But we know G-d has something in mind, and our next request to help others may just be a key opportunity to further our purpose.

Happy Purim

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