Saturday, June 2, 2012

Naso: A Treatise on Leadership

Call me America-centric, but I can think of no finer leader in history than George Washington!
John Edwards on Thursday, 31 May

As you can see, leadership was definitely on my mind when preparing my divrei Torah for this Shabbat.  Enjoy!

It’s About All of Us
A Drash for Parashat Naso
1 June 2012
Rabbi Don Levy

One of the most common pitfalls of leadership is to become full of oneself.  It is all too easy, when one’s role in an enterprise is pivotal, to allow one’s thinking to devolve to: “It’s all about me.” It is the reason that many leaders fall hard through their indiscretions.  If it’s all about me, then why should I be constrained by the same rules as everybody else?  This is often what seduces powerful men to act in ways that bring them down with humiliation, in the full view of the world.  In the US we’ve seen this play out over the last month with the saga of John Edwards.  He is the former senator and presidential candidate who was on trial for corruption over funneling campaign funds to his former mistress to buy her silence.  Although the judge declared a mistrial yesterday and Edwards won’t be going to prison, he is ruined and will spend the rest of his life in obscurity contemplating his failures.
           And of course a few years back we saw it all the way in the White House, in the scandal involving President Clinton, the intern and the blue dress. Other countries have had their own share of such scandals.  How about the dramatic downfall of Dominique Strauss-Kahn, chief of the International Monetary Fund, in a tawdry episode that sank his hopes of being the next president of France?
            When I started rabbinical school, many of my classmates were thinking about rabbinic careers in paths other than in the pulpit upon ordination.  But when our senior year arrived, most of my classmates entered the pulpit selection process.  What changed their minds?  For many, it was the experience of serving as a student rabbi in small congregations.  To breeze into town for the weekend, and face a bevy of activities where the key element is the presence of the student-rabbi, is extremely gratifying and seductive.  And I’m sure that Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion understands this phenomenon.  Surely the requirement to serve two years as a student-rabbi is intended specifically to seduce the rabbinical student to seek employment as a pulpit rabbi.  After all, the congregations of the Union for Reform Judaism support the college-institute.  They do so in order to ensure a continuing supply of new rabbis to fill the URJ’s pulpits.  If too many graduates of the rabbinical school go on to seek doctorates, or choose oddball paths – like becoming a military chaplain – then the congregations of the Union will not be well-served.  So it’s a good thing that pulpit work is seductive.
Look, I know I’ve set up a striking juxtaposition:  cheating politicians who fall from tawdry sex scandals on one hand, and rabbinical students who bypass academic careers to work in the pulpit instead on the other.  But it is not true that the same tendencies of human nature can produce a range of good and bad consequences, depending on the circumstances of the individual?  And what I’m talking about here is something very common to the human experience:  the tendency to be fooled into inflating one’s self-importance.  Politicians and the titans of the business world are certainly subject to it.  So are religious professionals.  And a lot of other people in between.
I was thinking about this over the last weekend.  I know that this congregation has experienced a vacuum in the area of professional rabbinic leadership over the last few years.  Had it not been for the efforts of a few key volunteers, especially the indefatigable Jan Marriot, the congregation would not have survived.  And it is not a disparagement of the skills and abilities of Jan – or anybody else – that many of you longed for rabbinic leadership.  I received so many e-mails from so many of you during the months between when you elected me to be your next rabbi, and when we finally received clearance to live in Australia, that I was keenly aware of the this longing.  And then last weekend, when Clara and I had finally arrived and I began my duties in this pulpit, it became even more clear how big an impact my just being here had on so many of you.
            It would therefore be easy for me to mistakenly think that this is all about me, and to allow myself to be sloppy or go astray.  But this week’s Torah portion is an important reminder that it’s not all about one person, or one faction of the people Israel.  Rather, it’s all about all of us.  That’s a lesson we can draw from Parashat Naso.
            In this portion, we read a litany of the exacting duties of the heads of the various tribes.  In particular, the Levites are warned that they must discharge their unique duties precisely, lest they die.  How much scandal by powerful men could be avoided if such leaders were told: “By the way, if you slip and fall in a scandal, you’re dead meat?”  Perhaps the powerful titans of the world would act with more discretion if they had such a threat hanging over their heads…
            The knowledge by the Levites that a transgression on their part would result in their deaths, surely served to keep their feet planted firmly on the earth.  It prevented their taking their duties lightly and thinking they could work less hard and be immune from blame because of their lofty position.  Because after all, it wasn’t all about them and their privileges.  It was about how, if they did their jobs correctly, they served to bring Divine favor upon the entire people.
            The so-called priestly blessing, which we shall read from the Torah tomorrow morning, is a reminder of this agency.  We’re all very familiar with this text.  It closes every service here at Temple Shalom, and in many other congregations worldwide.  At the end of the service, the leader stands in this pulpit and pronounces it.  Yevarechecha Adonai Veyismerecha.  Ya’er Adonai Panav elecha veychuneka.  Yisa Adonai panav elecha, vayasem lecha shalom.  May the Lord bless you and keep you.  May the Lord cause His countenance to shine upon you and be gracious unto you.  May the Lord lift up His countenance to you, and grant you peace.  Because of the grandeur of this pronouncement, I prefer to offer the English in the style of language found in the old Union Prayer Book.  After each of the three parts of the blessing, the congregation traditionally responds:  Ken Yehi ratzon.  May this be G-d’s will.
            In our rational minds, most of us do not believe that a mistake in pronouncing these words will prevent G-d’s favor from being bestowed upon the congregation.  But as I pointed out last week, religion transcends rationality.  I know that, if I were to stumble and err on these words, some of you would be taken aback, perhaps appalled.  And you would be justified.  I should never take my duties so lightly that I do not make sure I have rehearsed the words of important passages, to get them right.
            This knowledge of the ways that you are likely to respond to my mistakes, or indiscretions, helps to keep my ego in check.  This enterprise we call Temple Shalom is not about me, or about my need to call the shots.  It’s about how the things we do in this sanctuary and in this building, and even outside these premises in the name of our congregation, inspire each of us to live up to the highest aspirations of our Jewish tradition.  But if it’s not all about me, it also isn’t all about any one of us, no matter what positions we may hold in temple leadership.  This is something important to keep in mind as we approach the Annual General Meeting, at which you will elect a Board of Management to provide governance to the congregation for the next program year.  Thinking about standing for election?  Remember, it’s not all about you.  Approach the possibility of serving in elective office with a sense of awe, a sense of the incredible responsibility you will hold for the temple’s continued viability and well-being.
            The Levites in ancient Israel faced incredibly harsh sanctions if they should fail in their duties.  Leaders today, in public life in general or in the congregation in particular, face no threat of death should they err and come to think it’s all about them.  But when we read this week’s Torah portion, we should be reminded of the importance to the entire congregation.  It should remind us of the importance of working hard to get it right.  We should be reminded that, even if nobody will die should we get it wrong, our failure will nevertheless impact negatively on the community.  It will impair each member’s ability to derive benefit from their participation in our community’s main enterprises:  worship, learning, and Jewish fellowship. We who have been called to leadership positions in this holy congregation, whether professional or lay, must approach our duties with a sense of awe at the incredible responsibility we have accepted.  Instead of thinking about the perks of leadership, including the sense of control and the centrality of oneself, we should always remember that it’s about all of us.  If we do manage to keep this perspective, then we shall succeed in leading this congregation from strength to strength.


Leaders Must Lead
A Drash for Parashat Naso
2 June 2012
Rabbi Don Levy

Have you ever witnessed a fundraiser where the biggest donor issued what is called a ‘Challenge Pledge’?  It works like this:  the big donor declares a challenge on to double the amount of all pledges made within a certain span of time.  If the pledges of all the donors who take up the challenge add up to $ 1,000, then the big donor also gives $ 1,000.  If the other pledges add up to $ 1,800, then the big donor antes up an additional $ 1,800.  And so on.  The big donor, by issuing the challenge, dares the other potential donors to dig deep into their pockets, to see how much they can ‘force’ him to give.  Big givers tend to like this approach, because it spurs the ‘little guy’ to come forward with what he can give.
            Another approach sometimes taken by big donors is to hang back and give everybody else a chance to give the money necessary for the cause, then to step in and ante up everything else necessary to meet the organization’s goal.  So if the goal of the fund-raiser is to provide $ 10,000 for the cause, for example, this giver waits until all other pledges are in.  Say the latter add up to $ 5,000.  The big donor would then write a check for $ 5,000 and bring success to the fund-raising campaign.
            Personally, I think that all charitable giving is meritorious.  It should be encouraged, and praised, no matter how the donor wants to determine his amount.  If the cause is worthy, and the goal is met, then we shouldn’t quibble about how the donor wants to determine his gift.  But not everybody would agree with me.  The great Maimonides himself identified eight levels of tzedaka, which is what we generally call charitable giving in Jewish circles.  The eight levels are found in our siddur, Mishkan Tefilla, and we read them this morning in the preliminaries section of our service.  As a review, let’s open to page .. right now and review them.
            So you can see that, in the greater scheme of things according to the Rambam, for the leader to ‘hang back’ and only announce his gift after everyone else had given, to make up for any remaining deficit, is not the highest level of giving.  It is a very conspicuous way to give, because the giver who gives thus, gets to pull the cause back from the brink and ‘save the day.’  In my last congregation, we had such a benefactor.  The net result of his way of giving, was that everybody else stopped giving.  They ‘knew’ that he would step in and save the day, so why bother writing a check?  Let Mr. Big do it in his own time, as he always does.  As a result, there was no general culture of giving and commitment.  Perhaps worse, the day came when Mr. Big, upset with the way the temple was being managed, took his checkbook and went home.  Because there was no culture of giving, this meant a financial collapse for the congregation.  It was not a happy time.
            In this week’s Torah reading, we see a reflection of this kind of giving.  The nesi’im, the leaders of the tribes were the last to bring gifts for the building of the mishkan.  They reasoned:  ‘Let the public contribute whatever they will.  When they stop bringing, we will donate whatever is missing to complete the work.’  Perhaps their intentions were good.  But their strategy backfired on them.  The common people brought almost everything necessary, and the leaders’ contribution thus was not substantial.  The leaders failed to lead.  This is why, according to Rashi, the word nesi’im is missing its first yud in two occurrences in the chapter, and its second yud in another occurrence.  Because the nesi’im – the leaders of the tribes – did not act like leaders at all.  They were not worthy of the title.
            Many years ago, early in my military career, I learned the difference between authority and leadership.  The former is dependent on rank and position.  It has to do with making the decisions, with calling the shots, with issuing the orders.  The latter, leadership, is not dependent upon rank or position.  Each troop in the unit, even the lowliest private, can and should show leadership, which means responding with initiative to the organization’s needs without being instructed.
            As in a military organization, so too in a congregation.  We have certain individuals who are in positions of authority and are thus empowered to call the shots.  But each member of this congregation can and should take the initiative to meet the congregation’s needs.  Of course I’m talking about donating money to ensure the congregation can continue to operate and flourish.  But I’m talking about more than that.  As I reminded you last night, there is an Annual General Meeting coming up.  Will you stand for election to the Board of Management?  Are you willing to attend a dozen or so meetings over the next 12 months and contribute positively to ensure the temple has the quality governance it needs and deserves?  Will you step up and offer to serve as a vice-president, or as minutes secretary to ensure these critical jobs will be done?  Will you offer to help plan and run the next fund-raising activity or social event?  Will you offer to learn to be a Gabbai, or a Shamash?  When, G-d willing we once again have enough children to have a viable cheder, will you step forward to teach or assist?
            In today’s Torah reading, the leaders, the ones in authority did not show much leadership.  Fortunately, the rest of the kahal stepped up to the plate and the mishkan got built.  Unfortunately, the ‘leaders’ of the tribes ended up looking like followers.
            As Temple Shalom approaches another AGM, let’s each one of us commit to lead.  Let’s commit to step up to the plate to ensure the congregation has the governance it needs, to ensure its financial needs are met, to ensure that enough members are available to fill critical positions in public worship.  Then, the mishkan will surely get built.  That is to say, we shall ensure that this congregation endures to serve as a center of Jewish life on the Gold Coast.  And that Jewish life will be a full life that will, in turn encourage other Jews on the Coast to seek to be a part of it.  As Theodore Hertzl proclaimed:  Im tirzu, zeh lo agada.  If you will it, it is no dream.

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