Be Present With Your Past

Ever gone through something and just carried on with life, wondering what the big deal was? You changed schools. Changed careers. Had a car accident. A breakup.

Everyone waxes lyrical about what a big deal this “event” was for you, or how you could have acted differently, maybe how you should now act differently.

But you just don’t get it. Nu, life goes on, right? What’s with all the advice?

Sure, “they” tell us not to live in the past. But there’s a lot to be said for grabbing those life lessons – the outcomes of those big events everyone’s going on about – and moving forward with hindsight, insight and foresight to create a dynamic present and future.

Pharaoh is a testament to this.

It’s exciting times in the Torah. In this week’s parashah, Bo, the Egyptians have just experienced the seven plagues G-d set upon them. Pharaoh witnessed it all, but he still refuses to set the Jews free. Yet it’s his servants – the ones who waited on Pharaoh hand and foot – who are completely clear: if the Jews aren’t freed, Egypt and all who dwell there will be destroyed.

How is it that this is abundantly clear to everyone but the king, who refuses to listen?

A distinct aspect of the Ten Plagues is Pharaoh’s persistent refusal to recognise the errors of his ways and accept that Hashem is powerful. Even miracle after miracle doesn’t persuade him of Moses’s claims of not just being a sorcerer but also G-d’s messenger.

During the first five plagues, Pharaoh refuses to release the Jews and remains in control of his free will. Had G-d not hardened his heart, the king would have sent the Jews out of Egypt in the second five plagues. But that’s because he couldn’t bear any more plagues after the first ten, not necessarily because he wishes to repent from the recognition of G-d’s greatness.

Pharaoh was stubborn to the core.

Who would deny such great miracles? Surely, it’s due to lack of thought that the miracles didn’t sway Pharaoh’s stance.

When we think of it like this, when we think of Pharaoh’s illogical behaviour, it sheds so much light on why people fail to change when they experience a big event or recurring “wrongs” in their lives.

Often, we’re simply too close to a situation to see it objectively. Since Pharaoh interacted directly with Moses, he was too emotionally charged with what was going on in Egypt.

Like so many of us who are too close to a person or situation in our own lives, Pharaoh is misguided. He (like us in different situations) feels he knows the situations the best and is therefore in the best position to know what should or shouldn’t be done. So, he doesn’t entertain a single other opinion or idea.

It comes down to objectivity. When we’re emotionally immersed in something, we tend to have very little objectivity, if any.

How often have you witnessed someone in an unhealthy personal relationship, but they just couldn’t see how it was affecting them? Maybe they justify their stance as “nobody knows the person like I do.” That’s exactly why they can’t act rationally or objectively. When you’re too close to the situation, you lose sight of the bigger picture.

This is when you need to seek out others and ask sincerely for their advice. And listen. It’s human nature to discount other people’s opinions. Maybe we feel that by embracing someone else’s point of view, we’re admitting that we’ve made a poor choice. We want to “save face.”

It’s this type of mentality that stops us from rationalising poor or adverse behaviours and changing for the better. Yet, the greatest humans have been those who admit their wrongs of the past and take those lessons, that fresh perspective, and move on to make productive, healthier choices.

Whether you’re stuck in a rut, looking for a relationship or career change or been through a big event that you just don’t see “the big deal” about, there’s always room for change. We have to change – the world around us does.

Like Pharaoh, we need to learn to think; to let things happen in the world at large or our private lives and take time to reflect and change accordingly.

Change is a big word. Maybe we can look at it, instead, as growth.

When last did you take time to think about the things going on around you?

When last did you listen to those around you who truly know you – the one’s whose opinions you value?

Do it. Start today. It will help you take just a little step back, gain perspective, fight that urge to justify past actions and move forward with renewed vigour and insight.

Be present with your past.

Take the good advice. It might hurt your ego, but it will make you the best version of yourself.

The ball’s in your court.

Shabbat Shalom.

From Exile To Redemption – It’s All In Your Name – Shemot

This week we begin the Book of Exodus with Shemot, derived from the first words of the very first verse of the book; “these are the names.”

The entire book – Shemos – means “Names.” Why are we listed as names, and what is in a name?

There are two things we need to know if we’re to maximise control over our lives. I use the word “maximise” because if we had complete control, it would mean vetoing G-d’s power, and that’s just not possible.

But you can still be the master of your destiny.

Two Principles To Lead You To Redemption

Let’s talk about the first thing.

Life is an elaborate system of cause and effect. Not one thing can happen that doesn’t affect creation, even if it doesn’t affect our own lives. But it’s built into creation and as a result, each and every one of us should consider every act we perform and contemplate the potential effect.

Now the second thing – the ripple effect. Cause leads to an effect that increases over time. The snowball effect. The butterfly effect. It’s all the same.

It’s these two principles that help us understand the leap from last week’s portion to this week’s. One week, we’re rejoicing in the reunion of Jacob and his sons, and the next, we’re reading about the enslavement of a nation. Doesn’t it feel like there’s a gap in between?

But think about it. This leap serves to drive the point home that whatever happens in Genesis was the direct cause of the enslavement of the nation.

Joseph cried when his brothers lied to him. He didn’t cry because they’d upset him. Joseph cried because he knew that his brother’s cause would lead to a dramatic effect, later on, rippling through years of life spent in Egypt. He knew that the effect would lead to a lack of trust in G-d to protect them and that would lead to a harsh response.

If the brothers had wholeheartedly accepted what Jacob alluded to when he recited the Shema when he was reunited with Joseph, the journey to Egypt would have been just that. No more. No less. Joseph would have no reason to cry.

Let’s look at it another way. One person doing a small thing can have a dramatic effect. It can take a while before the results are tangible, but they will come and more than likely in a big way.

Words Have Meaning, But Names Have Power

Shemot starts with the recordings of the names of the tribes of Israel and how they arrived in Egypt. Why does the Torah repeat the names of Jacob’s children? We know their names. But it seems the Torah wants to highlight the importance of names in our tradition.

So, why such a big deal?

Let me repeat a story I once heard. A gentleman attended a brit milah (baby naming) and when the rabbi asked for the name of the child, the father responded, “Avraham Yitzchok Yakov David Shlomo Yosef.”

Astounded, the rabbi asked the father why they chose such a string of names, to which the father replied, “I am a poor man, rabbi, my child won’t have a huge inheritance. On my side of the family, he’s not going to be handsome. On my wife’s side, he probably won’t be that smart. So, at least he should have a good name.”

The same goes for the tribes of Israel. They had good names, each representing loyalty to G-d and Judaism. In their long night of exile, they remembered their names – their traditions, their ancestors, their hopes for the future – and this kept their hope for redemption burning. As long as they remembered their names, they were part of the Jewish people and bound to G-d’s covenant.

Good Name In Man And Woman Is The Immediate Jewel Of Their Souls (Shakespeare)

This makes me think of my favourite blessings, the Amidah. Traditionally, we recite a verse containing our name. It’s the opportunity to remember your name, even beyond this life.

That’s because in your name lies your self and soul.

It’s why we place such great emphasis on naming a child because in that name lays the history and the past, the hopes and blessings that lie ahead. I remember once reading an article that said our Hebrew names are innate. They guide us throughout life. I truly believe this.

So, before embarking on the narrative of Israel in Egypt, the Torah proffers an understanding of survival – through names. There’s a lot in a name, and that will be the key to redemption and exodus from Egyptian slavery.

Is there truly a connection between Names and exile or redemption? There has to be. The Medrash teaches us that when G-d created Adam, all the animals were brought before him and named.

In Hebrew, a name isn’t just a label for communication. It’s your very purpose. Your essence. By naming the animals, Adam shows intuition of the role each animal should play in the world.

And so, it is for us. Your name describes your potential.

Your purpose is to bring that potential to reality.

Your actions should be in sync with who you are.

How does that connect to exile and redemption? The hardships of the exile forced the people of Israel to dig deeply into themselves to find their strength. Think of exile like gardening. You plant something. The seed decomposes. Then real growth starts.

That is the deeper understanding of why the B’nei Yisrael didn’t change their names. They refused to lose the connection to who they were and what had been planted within them.

Is it not the case, then, that our names are synonymous with exile and redemption? I think a name represents the distinctive abilities we bring into exile and the fruition of those abilities that define redemption.

From Exile To Redemption – A Personal Journey

When we fail to use our abilities, to dig deep and find that strength and talent within, we truly are in exile.

At the end of the Amidah, we recite the verse “Adonai tzuree v’go’a’lee – Hashem is my rock and my redeemer.” Is it not a plea for heavenly assistance to use our abilities and bring honour to G-d’s name and reach a state of our own redemption?

How has this year been for you? What have you discovered for and about yourself? Do you feel like you’re living a life of exile?

You have the power to change that. The clue is in your name.

What’s in a name? Everything. But only once you realise the potential in your name, self and soul, can you truly experience redemption.

Shabbat Shalom.

The End Is The Beginning – Vayechi

Decluttering the home of things that no longer serve a purpose.

Removing toxicity from your life.

Changing jobs or careers.

Finishing a good book.

Everything seems to come to an end, I believe, so that we can make way for more. More growth, more fulfilment, more blessings and more hope.

And so it is that I begin this blog with an end. Vayechi, this week’s Torah portion, is the last reading from the book of Genesis. Interestingly, it’s the end of the book, but the preparation for new things ahead. Vayechi means “and he lived,” and it comes from the first verse, which says “Jacob lived in the land of Egypt seventeen years” (Genesis 47:28).

In this week’s portion, Jacob is preparing for his death. He secures a double portion of inheritance for Joseph and blesses each of his sons. The book of Genesis ends with Jacob’s demise, followed shortly by the death of Joseph and the promise of redemption from Egypt, and with that comes a whole lot of hope.

Going Backward To Move Forward

Let’s rewind for a second. Throughout Genesis, we’ve seen our matriarchs and patriarchs mourn and celebrate, laugh and cry, wrestle and make up. It’s the quintessential Jewish way – one big, complicated family.

But it’s in Vayechi that the people of Israel are on their way to becoming a people. With all the twists and turns, slavery and redemption in Egypt, it’s the conclusion of Genesis that I find the most prolific.

Towards the end of the book, Joseph presents his sons, Ephraim and Manasseh to Jacob. He places his eldest, Manasseh, at Jacob’s right hand and Ephraim to the left. Joseph crosses his hands, placing his right on Ephraim and his left on Manasseh and pauses to bless Joseph, who only notices this peculiar positioning after the blessing.

Joseph points out to his father that he’s blessing them in the wrong order – back to front if you will. But Jacob persists, confirming that this is a deliberate action. He then blesses his grandchildren in the way that the people of Israel are told to bless their children, May God make you like these, Ephraim and Manasseh.

There’s a lot of familiarity in this moment: the patriarch who can no longer see properly; the elder blessing the next generation unconventionally; the apparent confusion of birthrights. They’re all themes we’ve encountered before, except for one: Jacob declaring that he is purposely crossing his hands. In just a few words, an entire cycle of conflict is broken, and only then does Jacob say that this is how he will make his blessings.

Vayechi
The end is the beginning, full of hope

Go Forth With Hope

Does it not teach us that we should be open about the blessings we offer? Doesn’t it show us that we can’t always control our situations? Yet should we not go forth and offer blessings?

In verse 11, Jacob reflects that he thought he’d never see Joseph again and now has the chance to see his favourite grandson. Surely, as we reflect on the book of Genesis with all its conundrums, we’re reminded to always have hope.

Let us hope that those we have lost are not entirely gone.

Let us hope that blessings are there, even when we feel like the window for goodness has closed.

Let us hope that we can see the generations that come after us act on the values we hold dear.

And let us hope that even when we and those around us make mistakes, those mistakes can still lead to potential and possibilities.

New Year, New Chapter

I find it difficult to bid farewell to our matriarchs and patriarchs every year. It truly is like ending a good book. But it’s also like decluttering the house or making a career change. It brings with it the start of something new, promising and full of hope.

Through all the ups and downs in Genesis, the promise of the covenant inspires and guides, assuring us that our history continues. We don’t know what the future holds, as Genesis comes to an end. Jacob and Joseph have gone. Everyone else is living in a strange land. Nobody knows what their fate will be.

It’s pessimistic, but there’s one thing that reminds us to be hopeful, and that is Vayechi – “and Jacob lived.” As we reflect on his death, we remember the characters we’ve encountered. Those that have inspired us. While one chapter ends, the convent reassures us that it’s by no means the end of the story. It’s just the beginning.

The end of the book of Genesis. The end of what has been, for many, a challenging year. And yet, ahead lies a new book, a new year, new blessings and renewed hope.

I hope Genesis inspires us to learn and introspect. Take some time to look at those sacred words, Chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek – and may we grow stronger, drawing strength from our Torah and one another as we embark on a brand-new chapter.

Shabbat Shalom.