January 31st: Bo
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
When we speak of faith and patience, there are many perspectives. One is the patience of a Joseph who hopes for and is eventually gifted with redemption. After enduring the betrayal of his brothers, enslavement, the betrayal of his employer, and the betrayal of his fellow prisoner (the cupbearer who somehow forgets him for two years!), Joseph is lifted high and given great status and power. Perhaps those years of suffering are formative—that he has learned that his talents are not his but God’s: that he is a mere vessel for God’s blessings, and that ego is a distraction from God’s work. In any event, Joseph’s patience “pays off.”
Another kind of patience in transgenerational. Though the blessings may not come in one’s lifetime, there is the hope that endurance, sacrifice, and faith will yield results for one’s family or group. I remember a family discussion years ago in which my two great-aunts and grandfather were talking about their father, Lazar Stein. His was not an easy life. He immigrated from Kovna in Lithuania and never quite “made it” in America. He peddled and moved from town to town, back and forth between the Ohio River Valley and the Mississippi Delta. A resourceful and resilient man, he endured much and struggled his whole life. While the “American Dream” was always in his sights, it was always just beyond his reach. But, as my aunts reflected to my grandfather, “Wouldn’t Papa be proud? He has seven great-grandsons in college!” The blessings that I have received could only have been possible with the struggles of my great-grandfather. Our family’s blessings are the fulfillment of his hopes.
Another more dramatic example comes from the days of the Chalutzim/Pioneers in Israel. One of the early Zionist leaders was Yosef Trumpeldor, a man who had fought in the Tzar’s army before moving to Eretz Yisrael and defending the pioneering settlements near today’s Kiriat Shemona. In one battle with marauders, he was fatally injured, and as he lay dying, he uttered these words: “Tov lamut b’ad artzaynu. / It is good to die for our country.”
(Apparently, Trumpeldor was quoting the Roman poet Horace who, in the Odes, 111.2.13, writes a line known by and quoted by warriors for centuries: “Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. / It is sweet and proper to die for one’s own country.” Trumpeldor’s word artzaynu/our country spoke to his deeply held belief in Zionism—that Eretz Yisrael is his patria/homeland.) There can be satisfaction in the hope that one’s actions will bring blessings to the future—and in patiently trusting that the blessings will come.
A third kind of patience comes when we realize that we are not in control—that things are going to play out at their pace regardless of what we do or say. Who would have imagined the last several months in Syria—that the utterly failed “Arab Spring” revolution would somehow, all-of-a-sudden succeed? Who would have imagined, back in the 1980’s, that the Iron Curtain would come crashing down? I think of this unknowability particularly in regard to the continuing conflict between Israel and her Arab neighbors. Though many of us may know a lot about the matzav (situation) and hear from all kinds of experts, I suspect that we are all in the dark about what is really going on—and what will happen from month to month and year to year. Though we have our opinions, at a certain level, the only realistic approach is patience—and faith.
A fourth kind of patience is eternal—though it may be uncomfortable to discuss. When we die—when whatever we have done in this life is complete, and we “shuffle off this mortal coil,” hope can continue. Our Tradition tells us that God will be with us forever.
From Gevurot: Um’kayem emunato li’shaynay afar.
God keeps faith with those who sleep in the dust.
From El Maleh Rachamim: Ba’al Harachamim yitz’ror bitz’ror hachayim.
The God of compassion binds up the souls of the departed in the bond of eternal life.
From the Torah Blessings and Gevurot:Note’ a b’tochaynu chayeh olam.
God implants within us eternal life.
Though we try not to die, and endeavor in all sorts of ways to survive and continue, there is the sensibility in our faith that God implants within us immortal life, that we continue, and more importantly that God continues. Psalm 90 reminds us of the eternality of eternity—that’s God’s perspective is for the very long term: “For in Your sight, a thousand years are like yesterday when it has passed, like a watch in the night.” (Psalm 90.4) The Psalmist reminds us that God’s view—as well as God’s purposeful will in the universe—is on a much larger scale than we can imagine. Though what happens to us is important, there are greater agenda’s afoot, and a fitting response for us is to patiently trust in God and in God’s long-range and ultimate goals. As we counsel ourselves in Adon Olam, “Adonai li, v’lo ira / When God is with me, there is no fear.” Trusting in God—really trusting in God—can render our worries less worrisome.
And finally, there is a kind of patience that comes with a change in perspective. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, a Jesuit, a mystic and a scientist, offers the following: “We are not physical beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a physical experience.” I find this sensibility both alluring and counter-intuitive. Yes, I believe that God has imbued within us eternal life—Note’a b’tochenu chayeh olam. And, as such, this physical life which is so central to us is inevitably limited and finite. It will end one day, and we will continue in another form. The details and concerns of our daily lives are therefore of limited value. However, we should not discount their importance. What we do matters. We were put on this earth for a purpose, and achieving holiness through the details of our lives is clearly a God-assigned task. And yet, we can get so wrapped up in the trivialities of life that we forget our higher and more eternal reality. We can be too focused on the tiny details of personal preference or pleasure, and at those moments, it is helpful to remember Teilhard’s words. There is a higher purpose for our lives, and patience can help us slow down and focus—and become not the grabbers of everything on earth but the blessings we were created to be.