How will you look back on your life?

As we begin the last book of the Torah, Moses confronts this question in Parshat Devarim.

Even the title begs the question.  Devarim, what are the words and things?   What is the story we will tell to those we hope will carry it in their hearts after we are gone?

For most of us, this requires us to project forward in order to look back.  But it cannot be make-believe; our legacy will be based on the life we live.  The things we do will be the basis for the memories our loved ones will recall.  How we touch their lives will define whether they can celebrate having had us in their lives.  Our legacy will not have the great accomplishments of Moses, of course as our tradition tells us, there has never been another like Moses. Our legacy will be the impact and influence we have had on our loved ones.  But will we be the best version of ourselves?

The story is told of Reb Zusya, the Chasidic Master, who struggled at the end of his life.  He awoke panicked from a dream about the prospect of entering Heaven.  His students tried to support their beloved teacher claiming he was indeed great like Moses and Abraham.  Zusya replied that he knew that God would not compare him to Moses and Abraham but instead, God would ask why Zusya wasn’t more like Zusya?

If we do not live up to all that we can be, we do not realize our full potential.  And importantly, we let ourselves and our loved ones down.  Only we can write our story by living our lives as best and as fully as we can.  Then we will truly leave a worthy inheritance, a life of merit and honor, of love and accomplishment that will touch the hearts of those we care about.

 

 

Your Legacy and Your Loved Ones

Your loved ones are your legacy.  That is an important message I learned from last week’s Torah Portion Pinchas. We must consciously remember those closest to us, especially even when our work, our mission, or our very essence might have us focus on everyone else.

Pinchas’ legacy is established in the aftermath of his zealotry.  The legacy of Zelophehad is also set; his daughters ensuring their father’s name is not lost and they can be rightful inheritors of his property.  Moses passes the mantle of leadership to Joshua as part of his legacy. However, two people are glaringly missing: Gershom and Eliezer, the two children of Moses. What happened to them?

We can only imagine the ambivalence of these two sons watching their father in all his greatness.  They see him lead with the most profound wisdom and love for both his people and God, yet he loses sight of his own children. It is a sad state of affairs for these two children to be ignored. The text screams out in its complete silence; for there is no mention of them at all. It is a modern-day message to all of us.

How often do we neglect our own?  For many of us in the “caring” professions, the demanding hours prioritize others over family. For those of us in the clergy, the RKs (Rabbi’s Kids) often complain they are neglected because their parent is so busy actively involved in the lives of the congregants they serve.  And those of us dedicated to building a career, we find long hours away from our children the price we pay for success.

For us to leave a truly worthy legacy, even the greatest among us need to make time for those closest to us.  We all have shortcomings and with the benefit of hindsight, we all know where we could have done better.  But more importantly, we need to know in our hearts that we do the very best we can and what we do is for the benefit of our family. For if we do that, then our children will know that they were loved. And that is the most beautiful blessing and legacy of all.

 

You are My Lifeline

In my early training as a lifeguard, I was taught that you can only do so much to save another.  You swim out to the distressed and offer a life ring, once they grab on to it, you can swim into shore rescuing him/her.  But they had to grab hold of the flotation device otherwise you would risk both of your lives.  You could go most of the way, but you needed the participation of the other.    Later on, I learned a more aggressive approach to lifesaving using grips and evasive maneuvers to assert control over the victim.  Finally, I learned that sometimes to save a life required knocking the other person out with a swift cross to the jaw.  You saved two lives in that precarious moment, yours and the victim’s.

How actively and strongly do we intercede when it comes to saving another?  How do we determine the appropriate course of action?  Sadly, it often devolves into a matter of personal convenience.  Whether it is suicide, drug abuse, or so many of our civic/social problems, we often find it easier to ignore them.  How often do we step over the person sitting in the street begging rather than at least engage their humanity?

People need to be seen and heard. The silent scream of despair of one soul should ring as loudly in our ears as the giant thunderclap from the heavens.  Wringing hands and feeling another’ pain consoles our own ego, but it does nothing to help another in need.  If there is something we all need more of, it is human connection.  Every one of us is nurtured by interactions with others.  It makes us feel cared for, it makes us feel human.  The loss of this most basic need dehumanizes us and only bad things can ensue.

We have reached a tipping point.  It is time for each of us to reenergize human connection.  Social media is a place to share, but it is does not replace the interpersonal one-on-one experiences with another.  Government programs can provide safety nets but cannot create the human warmth and validation each of us so desperately needs.  Communities of caring such as synagogues and churches can bring us together in important ways.  But it all begins with me and my ability to see you, as an individual in your humanity; every one of us realizing that we need each other to truly be complete.  And in that critical precarious moment, I am the person who can rescue you and you are the person who has the power to rescue me.

 

The legacy of the Exodus

Crossing the Red Sea
by Yoram Raanan

We are in the midst of that transformational epic Jewish creation myth known as the Exodus. This is the beginning of the discussion of our core identity a God who has freed us from bondage so that we may serve. There is an inherent tension in this idea freedom and service juxtaposed. But also at play is our meaning relative to this Eternal One. When do we actually count? Are we only meaningful in a corporate existence in the arc of history, or do individuals matter?

The narrative begs the question by leading with being remembered after 210 years sojourning in Egypt. Then God remembers and 600thousand with their families are lead out. We cross into the wilderness and begin a two-week trek to the Promised Land that takes 40 years, a deliberate amount of time so that the entire generation that was freed will not survive to reach their goal. What about those poor souls who suffered during 210 years of deteriorating conditions in Egypt? What about those poor souls who would have found satisfaction with enough food to eat and water to drink and would have returned to bondage just for those basic needs? There are many who did not make it along the way. What about them?

For so many of us, living in this new Promised Land came at the expense of untold millions who suffered harsh lives and died ignominious deaths at human hands that practiced hate. How do we remember them properly, with respect and the knowledge that were it not for them, we would not be here. Can we simply say “there but for the grace of God Go I” that we are merely the lucky ones? Aren’t we compelled to practice an active gratitude acknowledging and cherishing those who have come before to make our lives possible and using our blessings and positions to help those who continue to struggle, who have not experienced full redemption? Our tradition suggests that it is our responsibility, not God’s.

When we say goodbye to someone we grieve the loss as we should.   The tradition says Zichrono Livracha- May their memory be a blessing. Our task is to fulfill this aspiration and continue to journey.

Shabbat Shalom and Happy New Year

This Shabbat we read Parsha Vayechi, closing the Book of Genesis. This coincides with the end of the secular year 2017. The religious and secular realms share something else as well; we immediately move forward into the Book of Exodus and seamlessly, 2018 starts.

Exodus’s incredible story awaits its unfolding. And if only based on the events of the past year, we anticipate 2018 will be filled with things that will both challenge us and have a far-ranging impact upon us. How we respond will also have a great effect on the future as well.

We end Genesis, as with every book of Torah, with the traditional closing: “Hazak, Hazak, v’nitchazek! Be strong and together we shall be strengthened!”

May we live 2018 energized with the courage of our convictions and move forward together. May 2018 be a year of blessings for us all, in which we work toward creating a legacy worthy of the next generation.

Shabbat Shalom and Happy New Year!

To a wonderful 2018

Hard to get where you are going if you don’t know where you are

And you cant know where you are if you don’t know where you’ve been.

 

As aphorisms go, mine needs some work, but I hope you get the gist of it. We are ourselves links in a chain and our life journey is similar. The things we learn along the way shape us. Knowing our past helps us understand our present; who we are and how we connect with others. And that helps us take the next steps on our journey.

Our Legacy is not merely an Ethical Will we leave behind, it is the product of our life experiences. Let’s spend some time during 2018 embracing this idea and using it to understand how better to connect and create more meaningful relationships.

 

What do we leave behind? Thoughts on Glenn Frey and our Personal Legacies

What do we leave behind?oldhandsholdingyoung

I was saddened to learn of Glenn Frey’s passing. His music and artistry were amazing gifts he shared with us all as a solo artist and through the Eagles. I watched the documentary and thought we will never see him perform again or share new poetry with us. But his legacy of music will endure. I could not help but turn inward and wonder what is my legacy?

This accounting is often referred to as Cheshbon HaNefesh in the Jewish Tradition. But it is more than looking back and making a list; the Cheshbon is more than a list, it is an assessment by us of ourselves. Such a perspective is much more than a posthumous accounting or someone else’s reflection; it means that we can be proactive managing this list and our lives for whatever time we have. We are active, not passive in the process of this accounting. Since it “ain’t over ‘till it’s over,” as the American Philosopher Yogi Berra said, we could change the course of our lives if we are willing to do so.

handsOldYoungOften we leave important conversations unspoken. The discomforts we believe these conversations will cause make us shy away from them. But then we miss an extraordinary opportunity. It is never too late to tell those we love that indeed we do love them, until they are gone. We can talk about our lives, the triumphs and the tribulations, the things in which we had success and the times when we missed the mark. We can give them an understanding of their meaning to us; for too often those thoughts are not expressed. By sharing our aspirations and our vulnerabilities we can elevate our relationships by bringing those we care about close to us.

Not all of us possess the gifts of a Glenn Frey and not all of us will have the ability or opportunity to change the whole world. But we do have the capacity to change our piece of the world. We can decide what kind of relationships we create or nurture with those we care about. We choose to add our voice and our support to the people and causes we care about. Through these we change our piece of the world and our legacy is written by us.