D’var Selicha 5772
Jonathan Blake
A story is told of the famed 5th-Century-BCE Greek sculptor, architect and painter named Phidias who was commissioned to make a statue for one of Athens’ temples. The statue was to be set against a wall inside one of the rooms of the temple. Phidias used only the best and most expensive tools for the task and gave exquisite attention to every inch of the statue.
An apprentice in his workshop asked the master, “I can understand why you work so hard on the front side of the statue, for that will be seen. But why must you work so hard on the back? After all, it will be up against a wall and no one will see it anyway.” The artist answered, “The gods see everywhere.”
His answer should resonate with artists everywhere because real artists do not create in order to impress others but to express their innermost selves. Therefore their art must be right, inside and out, comprehensively true to the artist’s vision, reflective of the artist’s innermost longings.
As it goes in the realm of Art so it goes in the realm of the Spirit. Our spiritual pursuits must also be true to a vision; right, inside and out. I offer you this reflection tonight, on the cusp of a new year, because it seems to me that one important spiritual aspiration that we might renew at this time of year is our ongoing quest to become our most authentic selves.
Authenticity is commodity much in demand in our world; there is nothing more obnoxious than when we see others straining to present themselves as something they are not: authors who invent quotes and even pseudo-biographical experiences in order to impress the reader and buy credibility with false credit; social climbers who cover up their own insecurities and unique charms by attaching themselves to the wealthy or powerful; politicians whose promises reflect what they think voters want to hear rather than their own core convictions; children who so crave fitting in that they betray their own happiness to be part of the crowd.
And in our world, where anyone with Photoshop can smooth out every imperfection; where plastic surgery can mask the steady toll of time; where high school and college kids are often talked out of pursuing their dreams because they have to do something “practical” with their lives; is it any wonder that sightings of authenticity seem so rare and refreshing?
This past January, when we were interviewing candidates for the assistant rabbi job that would eventually go to Rabbi David Levy, I asked our Confirmation students, tenth graders, what qualities they would seek in our new rabbi. I underscored that youth work would be a core component of this new rabbi’s portfolio and therefore I felt it important to invite their feedback into the process.
One thoughtful and impassioned teenager implored me, “Please don’t focus on hiring someone cool. Hire a rabbi who is real. Kids are tired of adults thinking that what we want in our teachers, spiritual leaders, and role models, is someone cool and hip so that we’ll be impressed by them. What kids really want, and really need, is someone real--true to him or herself and his or her beliefs.” In that moment, I wanted to hire this student to be our next rabbi -- so wise and true did her words ring.
One thoughtful and impassioned teenager implored me, “Please don’t focus on hiring someone cool. Hire a rabbi who is real. Kids are tired of adults thinking that what we want in our teachers, spiritual leaders, and role models, is someone cool and hip so that we’ll be impressed by them. What kids really want, and really need, is someone real--true to him or herself and his or her beliefs.” In that moment, I wanted to hire this student to be our next rabbi -- so wise and true did her words ring.
A favorite midrash, a Rabbinic lesson, asks a question about a peculiar feature of the Holy Ark whose construction is described in the Book of Exodus. Moses receives instructions from God to have an Ark built of cedar wood, and then to have the Ark inlaid and overlaid with gold. The overlaying we can understand as everyone could see it; but inside, where no one but God could know, why inlay the entire thing with precious gold?
From this detail the Rabbis deduced an important principle: “Whosoever wishes to be considered a disciple of the wise has to be the same kind of person, inside and out. One cannot be impressive and ostentatious in piety when people are looking and a scoundrel when no one else will know.”
Selichot--the word means “forgiveness”--prompts us to approach the people in our lives whom we may have hurt with our words, our ways, or our failure to act or speak, our inattentiveness.
As we go about this difficult spiritual work we’d be wise to remember what our Sages teach, that there are two types of divisiveness: between one person and another, and between a person and him or herself.
Divisiveness between two people is easy to comprehend. Of internal divisiveness, a state of conflict with oneself, the Rabbis use this phrase: “Echad B’Peh, Echad B’Lev,” that is, the mouth is saying one thing, but the heart is saying something else.”
One Chasidic Master, Reb Yisrael, who founded the Modzitz dynasty, taught that when a person is not at one with oneself, when one’s speech betrays one’s true feelings, this internal divisiveness inevitably leads to discord with other people -- hence my astute teenage student’s harsh assessment of people who try to be cool instead of trying to be real.
One Chasidic Master, Reb Yisrael, who founded the Modzitz dynasty, taught that when a person is not at one with oneself, when one’s speech betrays one’s true feelings, this internal divisiveness inevitably leads to discord with other people -- hence my astute teenage student’s harsh assessment of people who try to be cool instead of trying to be real.
Put positively, one should strive to be “tocho k’varo,” with inner self and outer self in concord with each other.
In other words, authentic.
There is another word in the English language whose meaning may point to the same idea and takes us back to where we started, the world of art and sculpture in particular.
The word is “sincere.” A folk tradition links the word sincere to two Latin words, “sine” and “cera” which means without wax. When artists were commissioned to produce a work of sculpture, those who were honest would use pure marble. Fraudulent practitioners would use good material in front where people could see but inferior material in the back and then patch the holes with wax--a shortcut often exposed by the first hot and sunny day.
For this reason when a work was completed, the artist would attest to the quality of his work by signing that it had been done sine cera – that is, without wax -- sincerely.
The Chasidic Rebbe Zusya, who is celebrated for his emotional introspection and heartfelt piety, is credited with the quintessential teaching for the Yamim Noraim. I imagine you have heard it countless times but listen to his words again.
“When I reach the next world,” said Zusya, “God will not ask me, ‘Why were you not Moses?’ The question will be, ‘Why were you not Zusya?’”
“When I reach the next world,” said Zusya, “God will not ask me, ‘Why were you not Moses?’ The question will be, ‘Why were you not Zusya?’”
It’s all about authenticity. Why are you not the person you were meant to be? Why are you not the most you that you could be?
As we prepare to enter the new year, I hope each of us will take some time to consider the following two questions and respond privately as a kind of spiritual exercise that will help us enter this new year in a state of wholeness and peace. - JEB
I am my most authentic self when I am:
1. __________________________________________________
2. __________________________________________________
3. __________________________________________________
These things get in the way of my own most authentic self:
1. __________________________________________________
2. __________________________________________________
3. __________________________________________________
Authentic people do not delete comments because they are threatened by them.
ReplyDelete