As you most of you know by this point, I am a frequent attendee of Saturday morning Torah study at my temple. It is the most consistent part my Jewish routine. There are different rabbis who present and some I connect with more than others.
One of the rabbis presented this week with whom I struggle to connect. He approaches the Torah as a compositional document (which I absolutely believe it is). There’s something about the way he presents that always leaves me feeling sort of hollow. I almost feel silly for being religious by the time I leave. He is a brilliant mind and a wonderful man, just not my preference.
That being said, I felt like during shabbat shuvah I felt compelled to go even though I knew this rabbi was leading. I’ve found that even on weeks when I feel less connected, there’s always a little scrap of something that reaches me just right.
This week, it was early in the hour. The rabbi was discussing the Exodus which he does not believe happened. There is a lot of interesting scholarly work about this. He explained that it was a convenient myth we use to unit behind as a people (see what I mean about feeling kind of silly?).
Regardless, he said this sentence which profoundly impacted me. He explained that the Egyptians were never really our captors anyway. We escaped the Babylonians, but since we. were still living amongst them, the threat was too great. So we wrote a narrative about the Egyptians.
We spend much time in Judaism describing our exodus from mitzraim, the land of Egypt. We talk a lot about the theoretical Egypts from which we attempt to escape every day. This idea, that we’ve been mislabeling our mortal enemy for our entire history as a people is profound to me.
I think about how much time I spend in my day-to-day life trying to fix myself and do better and screw up less. I label all of these shortcomings:
- overweight
- under performing
- lazy
- unlovable
- messy
- too guarded
- too open
- selfish
- loud
- …
The list could go on and on. I imagine most people have a similar list that they wrestle with daily. Very few people I know aren’t battling some kind of invisible battle against their mortal enemy.
What the rabbi said, called into question the very reality of these enemies.
Are we fighting against the wrong things?
What if the real threat is so great, that we find it unnamable? Or, what if we put a code name in place of the real, untenable threat?
I think about Harry Potter and “he-who-must-not-be-named.” In the end, was Voldemort the real enemy? Really? I feel like fear and hatred were the enemies. Voldemort was a convenient vessel.
When I look at my laundry list of “Egypts” up there that I’m trying to fight against at any time, what I really think I’m fighting is the fear of loneliness and unbelonging. The concept is that if I can fix all of these mortal flaws of mine, I will be more palatable and belonging to the great world. I will be less lonely and more lovable.
“Being human is not about being any one particular way; it is about being as life creates you—with your own particular strengths and weaknesses, gifts and challenges, quirks and oddities” -Kristin Neff
I’ve been in therapy for a long time and every now and then you meet a moment that you realize will fundamentally change your life.
For me, that was when I started acknowledging the worth of two concepts:
Radical Acceptance + Self Compassion
This is a discussion for another post, but suffice it to say for now, that I am questioning the labels I have slapped on the threats to my well being. I am challenging myself to look beyond the obvious enemies I’ve always singled out in my life.
I am humoring the idea that my narrative has been aimed at the wrong enemies for a very long time. As Yom Kippur looms, I am trying to humble myself to face the real enemy.
And You Shall Love 