A Drash for Friday, 11 January 2013
One time during my military career, I took over an office whose
last occupant had been a Baptist colleague.
Sometime after his departure for his next station, I was looking at the
documents he’d left on the computer’s hard drive, cleaning things up a
bit. One document I found was a sermon
he wrote, rueing the realities of our contemporary world.
The sermon went on
and on about how the lives of people living in medieval times, before the
European enlightenment, would have been better.
They would have had a much surer faith, because the temporal rulers
would have ruled the lives of their subjects according to their Christian
faith. Since their lives would be more
integrated in this sense, the ‘typical’ individual would have been happier.
When I finished
rolling around on the floor with laughter, I was appalled. This colleague was a really smart and
educated man, a graduate of our Air Force Academy and a former line
officer. He had just been promoted early
to the rank of Major and, in conversation his name was often followed by predication
that he would someday attain general’s rank.
Although such predictions were more than a bit premature, it was clear
that this young man was going places.
I therefore could
not fathom the ignorance-by-choice of ignoring the realities of disease, early
death, infant mortality, lack of freedom, even serfdom that would have been the
peasant’s lot before the enlightenment.
And for the city-dweller, long hours in sweatshops at wages calculated
to keep the worker barely above the starvation level! And all this for an ‘integrated’ life where
one’s religious principles – if one were of the proper religion – were the
law of the land??!
If you’re getting
the idea that I have little patience for unthinking nostalgia, you’re
correct. The closest Jewish version to
what I’ve outlined above is nostalgia for the shtetlach of Eastern
European Jewry of the late nineteenth century.
Sholom Aleichem’s delightful
stories notwithstanding, Jewish life in the shtetl revolved around
grinding poverty, exploitation by various authorities, and periodic pogroms as
a device to let the Christian peasants ‘blow off a little steam.’ Within the shtetl, Jews were greatly limited
in the types of occupations they could follow to make a living. And there were severe restrictions on their
moving to larger towns and cities in search of greater opportunities. We really should feel no nostalgia for the
world that vanished with the coming of the Shoah.
So Rabbi Don is not
nostalgic for a rose-coloured view of the past.
But one indulgence to nostalgia that I do make is that I rue the
erosion of respect for one another that contemporary life has brought.
Remember when a
merchant, if he wanted your business, would address you respectfully? If I were a customer of a business I would
expect to be addressed as ‘Mr. Levy.’ After my rabbinic ordination, I would not
criticise the honorific ‘Mr.,’ even though correctly speaking the title ‘Rabbi’
should be used instead. After all, the
clerk or owner in the shop would probably not know that I was an ordained
rabbi. And if he did know, but in
ignorance addressed me as “reverend’ or some such, I would only correct him in
the most gentle way.
But today, it seems
to be accepted that people in retail call their customers by their given
names. To me, it is presumptuous for
someone from whom I’m making a purchase to call me, ‘Donald.’
It’s worse when the
person in question is phoning me to solicit my business, or my charitable
donation. When my telephone rings and I
cannot identify the caller, I always immediately identify myself. ‘Hello, this
is Rabbi Levy; how can I help you this afternoon?’ And then the caller almost inevitably asks, ‘Is
this Donald?’ Whatever slim chance there
had been that I would listen favourably to a pitch for a product or service, or
for a charitable cause, has just gone right out the window!
I mention this,
because our Torah reading for tomorrow begins with G-d’s identifying Himself to
Moses by His Personal Name. You know –
the four letter name that we don’t even try to pronounce. When we encounter it in a text, we instead
say ‘Adonai,’ meaning ‘My Lord.’ In
Orthodox circles, they take it a step farther.
Except in prayer, they will not even say ‘Adonai’; instead they will say
‘Hashem,’ meaning ‘The Name,’ instead of uttering the name.
G-d reminds Moses
that he appeared to the three patriarchs – Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – but did not
reveal to them his personal Name.
Moses therefore knows that his relationship with the Deity is
unprecedented in its familiarity intimacy.
Because this dialogue is preserved in the Torah, we understand that
Moses had a relationship with G-d unlike any figure before or after. Millennia later, the Great Rambam placed
Moses at the very pinnacle of the hierarchy of prophets in the history of the
Jewish people.
It is said that
nothing is quite as sweet as the sound of one’s own name. That is to say, hearing one’s own name adds
intimacy to any conversation. Until
addressed by one’s own name, a conversation can be and often is impersonal,
nothing more than a business transaction.
Please don’t hear this in any way as a criticism of business or of
business people. Business people – at the
least the successful ones – know the value of knowing, and using the names of
their customers. But to use the customer’s
given name, at least in a superficial business transaction, seems
inappropriately familiar. At least, it
does to this somewhat old-fashioned individual. Whatever business manual tells salesmen today
that their using their customer’s first name will help them make a sale, did
not ask me!
And this is not to
criticise our use of first names in our encounters within the
congregation. I am very comfortable with
being addressed as ‘Rabbi Don’ by members of my community. After all, we are ideally partners in
creating a strong and caring community.
And while I expect that you would want me to address you by your given
name, I’m always sensitive to the possibility that you will not.
So too with G-d. Despite his
revelations, and unique promises, to the patriarchs He did not reveal His most
intimate, personal Name. Only with
Moses, whom he met in the desert and sent to argue with the Pharaoh, did He
completely reveal himself. Clearly the
Deity anticipate a long sojourn with Moses as the latter did G-d’s bidding in
leading the people Israel to the Promised Land.
That long relationship would require of level of intimacy beyond that
which Abraham, Isaac and Jacob had required.
So G-d reveals Himself, through his most personal name, to Moses
before anybody else.
And I find myself gnashing my teeth almost daily when other people,
in situations where it is inappropriate to my mind, try to establish a level of
intimacy with me! Shabbat shalom!
Synergize!
A Drash for Saturday, 12 January 2013
Synergize!
A Drash for Saturday, 12 January 2013
Recently,
an acquaintance asked me what is the most difficult part of my job. I had an immediate answer, and it was exactly
the answer the questioner expected. I
told him that there was no particular task I have to do, that taxes my
abilities. Thanks to my training and
experience, any particular task that is ‘on
my plate’ – be it reading Torah, preparing sermons, leading services, teaching
classes, preparing funerals or weddings or any of the other special ceremonies
that are part of my job – is not especially difficult. What provides the challenge, is getting
people of divergent personalities to work together for common goals. In other words, the most difficult part of my
job is people issues. Politics, if you like.
I hope my saying this is not
off-putting to you. It certainly shouldn’t be! Most of us, especially if we have been doing
the same job for a while, develop a competency that makes that job largely
second nature. Mind you, I would
probably make certain exceptions. I'm guessing
that neurosurgeons never find their work ‘routine’ given the life-critical
nature of that work. And perhaps a
handful of other professions. But for
most of us, repetition enables us to develop a certain ease. And I’m guessing that for you, too, the
aspect of working with other people is the most challenging part of your jobs. This is especially so, if our jobs incorporate
some leadership function. The main
function of a leader is not to do, but
to get a group of people to do, all
in their separate tasks and separate ways.
I know that I have referred before in
my writing and speaking to The Seven
Habits of Highly Efffective People, one of the greatest self-help books of
all time. It was written by the late Dr
Stephen Covey back in 1989. The book
became so popular that it spawned a series of live workshops, taught by
specially-trained facilitators that were offered in many settings. Clara and I once took one of those workshops
when I served in the US Air Force. The
book and workshop were, for both of us, life-changing.
Habit number six of the Seven Habits is, Synergize. The Habit is
defined as: Combine the strengths of
people through positive teamwork, so as to achieve goals no one person could
have done alone. If you have been a boss, or if you have
worked for a boss, you probably know that this is one of the most difficult
tasks of leadership. A congregational
rabbi is not, strictly speaking a ‘boss.’
But this is still one of my biggest challenges.
I can work 60-hour weeks and produce all kinds of programs and content that cannot but benefit this congregation. But I can achieve far better results by encouraging you to join me as a team, accomplishing through our synergy far more than I could ever do, or any one of us could, on our own.
Moses
was definitely a synergizer. In this
week’s Torah reading, G-d charges him with confronting Pharaoh to gain freedom
for the people Israel. He demurs, citing
an unspecified speech impediment. I
referred to this in my drash last week.
If there’s one ability that a leader definitely needs, it is the ability
to communicate clearly, forcefully, and with vision. Here, G-d won’t let Moses off the hook. He teaches Moses an important lesson in
synergy. He brings Moses’ brother, Aaron
into the picture. For the near term, Moses will speak to Pharaoh through
Aaron. Aaron will bring to the table, an
ability that Moses feels he lacks. Aaron’s
speaking ability will serve as the ‘force multiplier’ for Moses’ vision.I can work 60-hour weeks and produce all kinds of programs and content that cannot but benefit this congregation. But I can achieve far better results by encouraging you to join me as a team, accomplishing through our synergy far more than I could ever do, or any one of us could, on our own.
And
Moses takes the lesson to heart. As we
follow his career as leader of the people Israel, we see him accepting the
counsel of others and integrating their ideas into his leadership style. Three weeks from now, we shall read from the
portion Yitro. In it, Moses accepts the counsel of his
father-in-law with regard to delegating tasks and authority to others.
There
is no question that the Torah depicts Moses’ strength as a leader as coming from
his obedience to G-d. Moses’ position
stems from his election by G-d and his willingness to take on the role – if reluctantly
at first. But what makes him truly effective as a leader is his ability to
absorb and apply the lessons of leadership.
In today’s reading, we see Moses learning the habit of synergizing.
None
of us has been elected for such a task as that, which faced Moses. None of us can take on a task of anything
approaching the enormity of Moses’ task.
Even so, each one of us can learn important leadership lessons from the
Great Leader. And the lesson we see the
Great Leader absorbing today, is to synergize.
To build a team where each person’s particular strengths are utilised to
their fullest. This, for the greater benefit
of the entire team. The ‘team’ in this
case, the people Israel who went out of Egypt, number 144,000 souls. If there’s any truth to the number, it would
have actually been far greater, because it did not include women, children
below military age, or senior men above military age. It also did not include the ‘mixed multitude’
who left Egypt with the Israelites. So
it would probably have been close to, or upwards of, a million souls all
told. None of us in this room today has
been charged with the care of so many, for so great a purpose.
But
that doesn’t mean our work is not important, because it is. So we can learn the lesson of synergy from
Moses. If we take this lesson to heart,
it will make us all more effective in our tasks. Shabbat shalom.
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