For many years I hadn’t heard about Ted Talks. Once
I did, I soon realized many people talk too much and often for no good reason
at all. A couple of years ago an article came out based on a TED
Talks series “How to Be a Better Human” which postulated
that we say “sorry” way too often. It reasoned that apologies “make
us appear smaller and more timid than we really are, and they can undercut our
confidence.” And of course in a society where everything revolves around how
the “I” feels, why should one walk around feeling like a small “i” so that you
can feel like a big YOU? The only problem with that way of living life is that
it is Godless. In the preservation of the “I” and in our mania to foster it,
everything and everyone becomes a casualty. The article posited that even apologizing
for bumping into someone, is one sorry too many. However, that entire
philosophy most certainly steps on God’s “foot,” which leads to this week’s
Parasha, Vayikra and many reasons to be sorry.
Without having to ask
“Can you hear Me now?” for the third time in the Torah it is written that God
“called” Moses. Once again it was to assume a momentous duty. So important is
this new duty that the entire book of Leviticus is titled Vayikra,
which means, “He called.” Leviticus opens with God instructing Moses how the
Israelites should “say sorry,” to atone for their sins through sacrificial
service. They were to atone not only for sins against God, but for sins
against each other. They were to atone not only for sins they did, but
also for their sinful thoughts. They were to atone not only for clear
violations of the commandments, but for sins they were not certain they even
violated. They were to atone not only for sins they did on purpose, but for
ones they committed accidentally. Why? Because God takes “sorry” very
seriously. Yes Moses got the “call,” but who’s sorry now?
The sages teach that
thought, speech and action are garments of the soul. We need to clean those garments
when they become sullied by sin. The sacrifices provided the remedy to purify
those “garments.” And let’s not keep this so sterile. The act of sacrificing
involves slaughtering a living animal, cutting it into pieces and sprinkling
blood, etc.; It’s gory even if it is for a holy end. But be sure that those who
brought sacrifices were cognizant of one thing: that the animal before them was
dying in their stead. Since it is the animal soul of man that causes him to
sin, “atonement comes about only through blood” (Zevachim 26b).
But there is one thing
that even sacrifices cannot do for us, and that is to say sorry to one we have
wronged, hurt, lied to or from whom we’ve stolen (which includes stealing time,
reputation, manipulating, etc.) Until we make good, God won’t forgive us. Even
our fasting on Yom Kippur absolves only our sins toward God not those
perpetrated against others. When we try and preserve the “I”, our ego makes no
room for God, for goodness, for apologies or forgiveness. And luxuriating in our
own imagined greatness will bring us to sin. The word for “I” in Hebrew is
“ani”; when the same letters are
rearranged they spell the Hebrew word “ayin," which means nothingness. Moses was the most
humble person in history because he rearranged the letters, perceived his
nothingness and in a profound unfathomable way he lived beyond the
“I.” That made him the worthy recipient and teacher of God’s Torah.
In this generation of
selfies and excessive self-love, the challenge for us all is ever harder. The “I”
has been exponentially fortified, digitized, glamorized and monetized, but scantily
spiritualized. Unfortunately, the third Temple has yet to be rebuilt and we
can’t throw some poor sheep on the fire to atone for us. But saying sorry to
God, to our neighbors and to ourselves is still possible through prayer,
charity and repentance. If God loved Moses for being the most humble man
on earth then we can deduce, even though we are no Sherlock Holmes, that God
must hate the arrogant and prideful. And indeed it is written in the Talmud
that where the arrogant reside, God cannot dwell. So don’t be too "proud" and cool to wear
a kippa and to ask for a kosher meal; don’t be too haughty to
say I think I will stop working on Shabbat; don’t be too cosmopolitan to say I
am a Jew and I love Israel. To be a Jew means to make sacrifices and
take risks in our lives for God, for our Homeland, for our people and for all
humanity.
Forget about all the self-help
books which expire like old medicine and the Ted Talks promising to make you
the best YOU; God’s eternal book will make you the best JEW and therein you’ll
find the best you. In that destined role you will truly find who you are. "Just
as physical light influences plants to grow, spiritual and intellectual light
[Torah] prods man to achieve his potential." (Rabbi Michael L. Munk). So,
yes, be sorry. Be very very sorry if tomorrow you are not a better person and
better Jew than you were today. And if you think saying sorry to God or to man
makes you “small”, then I’m very sorry to tell you, you weren’t all that much
to begin with. Shabbat Shalom!
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