Rabbi Leder's Shabbat Message - January 31, 2025

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Rabbi Leder's Shabbat Message - January 31, 2025

The worst mistakes of my life were all rooted in my ego and arrogance. I am pretty sure I am not the only one and absolutely certain the sins of the haughty are not new in human history; or at the very least, go back 33-35 centuries. Proof? Consider Moses’ message to Pharaoh from God: “How long will you refuse to be humbled before Me?” It is Pharaoh’s arrogance that offends God and brings so much suffering and death not only to the Israelites, but to his own people.  

And what of the other great figure in this famous drama…the greatest of them all - Moses? The final verses of the entire Torah say: “Never again did there arise in Israel a prophet like Moses…for all the great might and awesome power that Moses displayed before all Israel.” “Great might and awesome power.” That was Moses. But from whence did his power come? Why did God choose him? Because, as the Torah puts it when we first meet him, “Moses was a very humble man, humbler than anyone else on the face of the earth.” There is great power, the greatest power, in humility.

Of course, humility is difficult to achieve. It comes at the expense of pride. Consider a certain rabbi who shall remain nameless. This rabbi was chosen by Newsweek magazine as one of the 50 greatest rabbis in America four years in a row. He even made the top ten a couple of times. One year after the article appeared, the rabbi received a beautiful note from a woman in his congregation complimenting him on his preaching and comparing him with the great rabbis of the Talmud. She finished by writing, “I think you are one of the greatest preachers of all time.”  

Feeling pretty, pretty good about the note, said rabbi took it to his wife and asked, “Sweetheart, how many great preachers do you suppose there actually are in the rabbinate?” She looked down at the card, looked up at her husband and replied, “One less than you think dear.”

We think a lot of ourselves sometimes. Just last week, for something like the 100th time, someone forwarded an email to me noting Jews are .02% of the world’s population and have won at least 216 Nobel prizes, whereas Muslims are 22% of the world’s population but have received only 8. There is no doubt about Jewish exceptionalism when it comes to Nobel prizes. But if we are going to take credit for that, we also have to take responsibility for names like Irving Madoff, Harvey Weinstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Ghislaine Maxwell, and plenty of others. The truth is, Jewish exceptionalism cuts both ways. 

In his commencement address, Wellesley high school English teacher David McCullough, Jr. told the graduates, “None of you is special. You are not exceptional. Contrary to what your soccer trophy suggests, your glowing seventh grade report card, despite every assurance of a certain purple dinosaur, that nice Mister Rogers and your batty Aunt Sylvia, no matter how often your maternal caped crusader has swooped in to save you… you’re nothing special.  

Even if you’re one in a million, on a planet of 6.8 billion that means there are nearly 7,000 people just like you…. Your planet, I’ll remind you, is not the center of its solar system, your solar system is not the center of its galaxy; your galaxy is not the center of the universe. In fact, astrophysicists assure us the universe has no center; therefore, you cannot be it.”

This wasn’t the first speech in human history reminding us that we are not the center of the universe. God gave that speech to Job 2,500 years ago. God behaves outrageously in the book of Job. He makes a bet with the devil that he can abuse this good man named Job and this good man will never turn away from God. God takes away Job’s wealth, his business, his family, his health, everything.  

Job’s friends say, “You must have been bad.”

He says, “No I have not. In fact, I have been faithful to God.” Finally, Job challenges God.  “I’m a good person God. Why me?”

Does God say, “Look I made this bet and you have done just fine?” Did God offer a justification? No. God says, “Are you big? I am. Could you fill Leviathan’s nose with harpoons? I did. Can you keep the ocean waves within the shore? Do you make the sun rise? Try it.”  

In other words, who are little humans with their puny powers of thought and reason and judgment to challenge the universe to be righteous as a human would be; to attribute human qualities to the universe? The universe is a mystery and I am it.  

To which Job replied, “I have heard thee and now I behold thee.” He renounced his human judgment in the face of the mystery that is God and the universe.

If God’s speech to Job is meant to teach us anything, and it is, if Pharaoh’s flaws and Moses’ leadership are meant to teach us anything, which they are, if the mistakes of our politicians, cultural icons, and executives can teach us anything, which they can, if Hamas, Hezbollah, Assad (and his murderous father too) who are now dead demonstrate the eventual outcome of hubris, which they do, then hopefully they all inspire us to manage our egos so that we don't wind up like Pharaoh, drowning in a stormy sea of our own arrogance.

I find it beautiful that Torah teaches us we are not more special than anyone else and therefore some humility is in order. Great power without humility is not greatness. It is Pharaoh, Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Bin Laden, Hamas, Hezbollah, Iran, Putin, and Assad. It is the belittling boss, the abusive parent, the cold, indifferent spouse.

Do you want to heal the wounds in your friendships and family, our city, nation and world? Then inject some doubt into your self-righteousness. In the midst of social, political, cultural, and personal discourse, only doubt enables us to consider, “Maybe it’s me. Maybe she is right. Maybe he does have a point. Maybe I was unkind. Maybe I was too severe, insecure, self-righteous, proud, aggressive. Maybe I was wrong.”

Why must it take a tumor, an addicted child, financial ruin, public embarrassment—some tragedy of Job-like proportion to humble us? There are so many broken families, so many broken hearts. Why? Because we don’t reach deep enough into the pocket of humility that says, “I am but dust and ash. I am no more special than you. I am not perfect. I am not the center of the universe. I am not without flaws and fault, foolishness and doubt.” Real wisdom is about that pocket. Humility before God and our loved ones is the only hope for love to survive. And what is greater than love?
 
There is a beautiful old story about a student who came to a rabbi and said, “In the olden days there were those who saw the face of God. Why don’t they anymore?”  

The rabbi replied, “Because nowadays no one can stoop low enough.”

This week of Pharaoh’s cruelty and foolishness, and every week, during each tempting, prideful moment, let us find our doubt and humility. Let us all be great enough to stoop low.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Steve Leder