shemot – english

                               MEMOIRS OF GRATITUDE  

Moshe was reluctant to take the position of leading the Jews out of Egypt. He justified his reticence to G-d by saying: I am not a man of words … for I have a heavy mouth (my speech is halting) and a heavy tongue (the words I speak are not clear). Moshe was referring to the lisp that he had from having burned his tongue as a child. The Midrash (Rabba 1, 26) writes How did Moshe develop a lisp? Paraoh’s  daughter (Batya who drew Moshe out of the water and adopted him) would kiss and hug little Moshe as if he were her son, and she would not let him leave Paraoh’s palace. And because he was good looking, everyone wanted to see him. Whoever saw him would not  leave him alone. Paraoh, also, would  hug and kiss him. Little Moshe took the crown off of Paraoh’s head and put it on his own. The magicians of Egypt said that they feared that this child would overthrow Paraoh one day and take the throne. Some said, kill him. Others said, burn him. Yithro, at that time an advisor to Paraoh, was present, and interrupted this train of thought. “This child is too young to have wit. We can test him by bringing a bowl of gold and another, of coals. If he reaches out for the gold-it is a sign that he has wit, and we shall kill him. And if he sends his hand toward the coals, it will show that he has no wit, and he should not be killed. They followed Yithro’s advice, and Moshe stretched out his hand for the gold. The angel Gavriel came and pushed Moshe’s hand away from the gold, guiding it toward the coals. Moshe put the coal into his mouth, burning his tongue and causing permanent damage. From this incident, Moshe had a “heavy tongue” and a “heavy mouth”.

G-d denied Moshe’s refusal to be a leader…Who gave man a mouth, and who makes one deaf and dumb? Is it not I, G-d ? And now, go, and I will be with your mouth…  There is a question here that we must ask ourselves. Why did Moshe not ask G-d to cure his lisp instead of denying G-d’s request? Was it not self-evident that this is what G-d would answer Moshe?

The answer here reveals an important aspect of Moshe’s personality. Moshe wanted a constant reminder of the miracle G-d had performed for him when he was but a child. He did not want ever to forget his burnt tongue and the appreciation he had to G-d for sending the angel Gavriel to save his life. If G-d would cure Moshe’s tongue, then his gratefulness to G-d for the miracle of his youth could conceivably be forgotten at times.

Moshe feared man’s natural tendency toward ingratitude: the human psyche tends to forget kindness bestowed upon it by others. One can be easily persuaded to forget, for forgetting takes away the responsibility to respond with appreciation. Moshe was aware of this human shortcoming and wanted to have a constant reminder that he could never ignore. This was so important to Moshe that although he knew that if he did not take the Jews out ofEgyptthen no one else would, he could not bring himself to pray to G-d to cure his tongue, a request which would ultimately cause him to forget the miracle.

How many people would react as Moshe did? If such an incident were to happen to them, instead of recognizing it as a miracle, most people would spend their whole life blaming  G-d for having given them the burn and lisp. They would prefer to find something to be upset about, and someone to blame. All this bitterness is just in order to free ones self of responsibility.

I once attended a class in which the rabbi mentioned how he had convinced a woman not to make an abortion. The women cried and said that she did not want to bring a child into a world where there is no love. I gave this much thought. Is there no love in this world? I do not think that she was right. Our rabbis and mentors love us. They dedicate their lives to teaching us. Our parents and spouses love us. We quickly forget the thought and effort that goes into preparing meals and doing household chores. Subconsciously, we’d rather forget to show appreciation for these things, as it frees us from the responsibility of acknowledging being beholden to others.  Perhaps, if we look more deeply into this very human trait, we will find that in giving thanks to another person, we are recognizing the fact that we are not totally in control: “thanks” means that we were in the position of receiving something from another person.

Once, someone pointed out something quite ironic to me. Our parents made us birthday parties in our earlier stages of life. This was to give us a feeling that we were appreciated, and that we were noticed. One might then assume that as the “birthday boy” grows,  he should make a birthday party on his birthday for his own parents, out of gratitude for having brought him into the world,  having diapered him, fed him, stayed up with him at nights etc. etc. But no one makes such a birthday party.

We must never forget to be grateful. Even if one has no other human in the world that loves him, G-d loves him. The human psyche likes to forget all the good things G-d has done for us from the minute we were born. This is an unusual phenomenon. People are surrounded by so much love  – but they would rather ignore it. We would rather believe that we are alone, and that no one cares for us. All this just in order to avoid feeling responsible for acknowledging our gratefulness and appreciation…

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It seems as if in our present day and age, it is impossible to emulate the willpower Moshe displayed for doing the right thing. Just three years ago, I attended a Saturday night funeral in Jerusalemof an elderly friend I thought I had known. The deceased had had his vocal box removed as a medical precaution twelve years prior to his death. He could barely be understood when he talked, as he tried to whisper blessings loudly to those who knew him. People would sometimes walk away or try to end the conversation with him, not understanding what he was saying as he continued giving his blessings. He had a hole in his throat in the place where the voice box was removed, making it even more difficult to look at him while he tried to whisper his blessings as loud as he could.  He asked, before his death, to be buried before midnight. This gave us time for only one quick eulogy. The one story that was told left everyone shocked and tearful for having underestimated the greatness of the deceased.

Two years after the voice box was removed, this man’s family was informed by the doctors that it would be possible for him to regain his voice by undergoing an inexpensive, surgical procedure, necessitating being in the hospital for only one day with no risk involved. The man’s family believed that he would receive the offer happily. Instead, the man rejected it. He explained that now that he was obliged to speak sparingly and with great effort, and  even so was understood by no one, he had not spoken loshon hora (gossip) for the last two years. Forced to remain silent while others spoke, he also realized how much people gossip, and he preferred not to be able to speak again, so as not to find himself once again in the test in which so many people fail. He lived another ten years of his life choosing not to speak, just because of his fear of speaking slander and other evil talk. He found contentment in doing the right thing. Ironically, the people at the funeral were left speechless. The few people who were at the funeral felt that if only they had known of his greatness, they would have wanted to get just one more blessing from this great man. It was already too late. Such great people do exist. We just have to open our eyes and recognize who they are and learn from them before they are gone.                                   .

                      ME IN THE MUD

The phenomenon that we discussed is this: when the situation is reversed and the Rabbi needs or expects something from the student, he discovers a void.  There is nothing there – no relationship, no dedication, no reciprocity.  Since I was acquainted with one of the students with whom the Rabbi was frustrated, I decided to approach him on the subject.  I told him that it could be that his rabbi is disappointed in the fact that, although he had given considerable time and effort – and even money – toward creating a special relationship between the two of them, his student doesn’t even return the Rabbi’s phone calls.  The reply I received needs no comment: it speaks for itself.  “It’s his fault,” said the young man.  “He chose to be a rabbi.”

I have seen this with businessmen who were put on their feet by a kind, successful friend. Not long after things were going well for the newly established fellow, all ties were cut off, in some cases, with the relationship being far less friendly than it had been before – for no justifiable or comprehensible reason. Many times, shadchanim feel the same way after they have made a great shidduch. The lucky person who has met his match will often not even mention the name of his benefactor.  For a while, I pondered this way of men. This is not something new. It goes all the way back to ancientEgypt.

And a new king who did not know Yosef rose to power over Egypt.(Shemot1:8) Rashi comments that Pharoah made himself as if he did not know Yosef. This is amazing. Yosef and his family brought so much blessing to Egypt. Yosef built Egypt up to the point that it was the major world power . How could the Egyptians, then, be so cruel to the Jews and hold them in such bitter enslavement?

The answer is that when a person either rises to power or “gets out of the mud” of a dysfunctional state through a certain benefactor, the human tendency is not to want to see that person ever again. One explanation for this is because when one sees the benefactor, he is reminded of his former situation, of a negative identity. He does not want to be reminded of his inferior status before having attained success. The Egyptians wanted to forget that without Yosef’s interpretation of Pharoah’s dream and his plan for saving the economy ofEgypt, they would have been no different from the people of the rest of the world. They enslaved the Jews bitterly in order to forget.

It is said about the Chatam Soffer that after he did someone a favor, he would give him a bag of small stones. The person would ask why the rabbi did this. His answer was that the way of the world is that it is customary for a beneficiary to throw stones at his benefactor.  The Chatam Sofer’s message was, “Please throw these small stones and not big ones!”

Sometimes, painful reminders of times when we were “in the mud” act as catalysts for finding complaints about those who cared for and loved us.  Whenever we have complaints about someone who did us a favor, we must always keep this in mind. It might just be the tendency to ignore our past by finding fault with the other person. Looking more deeply into ourselves, we may discover that at the root of such ingratitude lies a lack of self respect. If we could only learn to respect ourselves as human beings, recognizing that past mistakes can be corrected.  If only we could remember that we are only human – and humans sometimes need help – then we would be able to sincerely appreciate all the good and kindness that others do and did for us.  This is one of the keys to leading a fruitful and happy life!

Shabbat Shalom, Yosef Farhi