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January 31, 2025 - 2 Shvat 5785 Parashat Bo
Dear Friends, On Monday evening, we will hold the fourth round of Biblical Smackdowns, when we will learn about the tough time our ancestors had wandering in the desert, which led to a populist uprising against Moses and Aaron's leadership. Korach, Dathan, Abiram, and their band of rebels wondered who put Moses and Aaron in charge and they, and the entire Israelite people, got the answer in the most dramatic of ways. Join us for an in-depth look at this highly charged confrontation, ringside over Zoom on Monday at 7:30PM. We would like to thank Elaine and Paul Lyubormirsky for sponsoring this Shabbat’s Kiddush luncheon in honor and memory of Elaine’s father, Itzik Khimishman. Honoring one's father (and/or mother), is a Mitzvah, so please join us at the Kiddush table to share in Elaine & Paul Mitzvot and consider sponsoring a Kiddush to honor or celebrate a person or event. As a sports fan for my whole life, I have probably heard thousands of pre- and post-game interviews with athletes of every variety, in dozens of sports. There is a certain space of nostalgic charm that we allow more generously to athletes than we do perhaps with co-workers, family, and friends. I'm reminded of the scene in Bull Durham where Kevin Costner's Crash Davis is educating Tim Robbins' Nuke LaLoosh on mastering interviews: "You're gonna have to learn your cliches. You're gonna have to study them, you're gonna have to know them. They're your friends. Write this down: We gotta play 'em one day at a time." "That's pretty boring, isn't it?" "Of course it's boring, that's the point. Write it down." "I'm just happy to be here, hope I can help the ball club...I know, just write it down. I just want to give it my best shot, and the good Lord willing, things will work out." And, if the omnipresence of such cliches was a truth when this movie came out in 1988, it is all the more so, several times over, today. You can’t watch any competition anywhere—whether it’s a football game, a game show, reality TV—without at least one person saying the most absurd and obvious clichés like, “I came here to win.” (Oh, you’re the one.) Or, “Failure is not an option.” (Actually, I’m pretty sure it is.) And the killer is always something about demanding, giving, or pledging to give 110 percent. Now, I’m torn about that phrase. I used to laugh it off and chalk it up to sheer ridiculousness. How could anyone give 110 percent? How could someone give more than what’s actually possible to give? You can’t. It’s dumb. At least, that’s what I used to think. I started working with Quess, my personal trainer at the Stamford JCC, and he gave me one of the best compliments I've ever received. Seeing my capabilities, as well as my limits, and pushing me to stretch them as a good trainer does, he said, "I'll tell you this: you know how to push through a rep. Some things you can teach and some you can't. Lots of folks just give up the moment they think they've hit the wall; not you, you push through it as hard as you can, even if you're not able to do it every time." I don't know if that's 110%, but maybe it's something like 105%. And I'm proud of that. So perhaps there is something to it. Perhaps there’s something in the human condition that allows for the rare, occasional moment in which we somehow transcend what science or common knowledge defines as the boundaries of possibility. Adrenaline kicks in and people can suddenly lift up a car to free someone pinned underneath. A firefighter runs into a house ablaze to rescue a child trapped inside and both emerge unscathed. In the Princess Bride, Wesley is able to hold his breath for what seems like forever in order to save Buttercup from the quicksand traps in the Fire Swamp. We don’t have to be Wesley or a firefighter to know something of what it means to give 110 percent, to be like the rare amplifier in the mockumentary This is Spinal Tap that goes to 11 rather than 10. Now, I believe that every so often, there are ways to dig deep within ourselves, to find a little something extra to give to ourselves and our loved ones - physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. Perhaps that's what we see, or hope to see, in this week's Parashat with Moses. With the initial plagues upon Egypt having been served and the people starting to change their tune of belief in Moses and God, maybe the tide has begun to turn. But, Moses still knows that he has a long road ahead of him, and miles to go before he sleeps. Maybe this is the moment where Moses breaks down, looks within himself, and drudges up one more shred of Chutzpah, one more ounce of strength from a seemingly depleted reserve. Just a little bit more, he thinks. Let me just push through this rep before I start to worry about the next one. So, maybe these things aren’t impossible, irrespective of how unbelievably overused the terms may be or how foolish they might sound. Maybe the moments where the phrases actually apply are few and far between. We can’t possibly function at 110 percent all the time, even if we really wanted to, because if we did, we would completely and totally collapse. Nor should we strive to be constantly at that level because if we were always there, it wouldn’t mean anything. If we’re always there, then all we’ve done is make 10 louder, so that our amp isn’t really special at all. So, let us come to understand that living our lives to the fullest doesn’t demand that we are always turned to 11, always trying to give 110 percent, even as we appreciate that potential within us. May wisdom and love be our guide in choosing the moments where we do so. And, as we take stock of our lives, rather than asking, for what should we go to 11, perhaps the question we should be asking is: for whom? Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Joshua Strom
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