Sh'mot (2010)
In a
Torah portion filled with action and drama and importance, there is one passage
that particularly intrigues me: it is the verse about the burning bush.
I've always been fascinated by this image: a bush that burns and is not
consumed, from which the voice of the Divine emerges. How would I feel
about this?
Here
I am, minding my own business, herding sheep for my father-in-law, and suddenly
this bush bursts into flame and starts telling me to return to the place I
escaped from to stand up to its ruler and advocate for my people! Forget
it! I'm not up to it, God! Let somebody else do the work for a
change! Wasn't it enough I was almost killed as a baby and my unnamed
mother had to give me up for adoption? And look what happened when I stuck my
neck out and killed an Egyptian to protect a Hebrew slave! I've spent good
years here working for Jethro, nice peaceful years. Can't I just relax
now?
No, you
can't.
But,
God, I'm too old! And I'm no good at public speaking!
Too
old? Who do you think you're talking to? And you don't have to speak
alone. You'll have a speechwriter and an assistant.
But
what if nobody listens! What if nobody believes in me? What if I
look like an idiot! I'll feel so exposed and vulnerable! What if I
make a mistake?!?!!
The
burning bush certainly got Moses' attention. Maybe God didn't want him to waste
his gifts on sheep. This passage makes me wonder to what extent lots of us
waste our own gifts on sheep. Are there challenges and opportunities for
learning and leadership we avoid because we are afraid of making mistakes in
public? How many of us hesitate to try new things for fear of being judged by
others and found wanting?
This
past week I learned that one of my students was seriously considering dropping
out of French. During a meeting with me and her father and her guidance
counselor, she broke down in tears and told me that she kept getting the answers
wrong in class, and she named three or four other students who usually get the
answers right. She was frustrated that she had trouble understanding spoken
French, and she was frustrated that she wasn't getting an A. (She has a B+
average.) She felt embarrassed and ashamed, but she had never told
me. By finally taking the risk at this meeting of saying how she really
felt, she could help me to be a better teacher, and thus help other students as
well.
We
cannot grow and learn unless we take the plunge, take the risk, and try, and
make mistakes. Yes, even in public. How else can we learn to
communicate, if not aloud and with others? How else can we explore our
potential, and go beyond herding sheep, if we don't move out front and accept
the fact that we will make mistakes as we learn? This is why it is so
important for us all to be respectful of each other's mistakes, and help each
other not to feel embarrassed. After all, to love learning is even more
important than being right all the time!
This love of growing and learning seems to
me to be one of the hallmarks of our congregation. We are a community of
risk-takers, learners and leaders who have an amazing ability to work together
as a team. We want each other to grow. We are for each other.
Think about it. There are members of our congregation who are lehning
Torah who never thought they could. There are members of our congregation
who are leading services and davening who had never done so before joining our
community. And how have they accomplished this? With the love,
guidance, patience and support of other members. We in B'nai Tzedek know
that when we nurture growth in each other, we nurture it in ourselves.
That is what we mean by being a congregation. When
one suffers, all suffer. When one blossoms, we all benefit. Of
course we will make mistakes as we take the risk of leadership! Of course
we will make mistakes as we try new ways of conducting services, and as we
continue to develop as a community. But another remarkable and precious
quality of our congregation is that we are generous and gracious with each
other. It is because of our prevailing ethos of generosity and openness
that we continue to thrive as a completely congregant-led congregation.
When Moses asks God, “Who shall I say sent
me?” God answers “Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh”: I will be what I will be. And Moses
ultimately accepts that he too will be what he will be, his truest self, a
leader. Let us rededicate ourselves to the challenge of being our own truest
selves, sharing whatever gifts we have, learning and growing, supporting each
other, for our own good, and for the good of all.