Showing posts with label Shemini. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shemini. Show all posts

Friday, April 21, 2017

Blame the followers? On Leadership- Shemini

I lay awake at 4:30 am the other day. Not for very long, but still unusual for me to be awake worrying about work. I tend to do my worrying during the day.

Fear of failure is a natural part of leadership. However, I wonder to what extent a leader needs to feel responsible for outcomes that are ultimately dependent on the choices of many people, whether active supporters or disinterested “followers”? Perhaps leadership is overrated. Some leaders appear successful, when in fact they are merely taking people where they want to go anyway.  Should the primary potency and responsibility be recognised as being with the followers instead? Perhaps this idea is a form of shirking of my responsibilities as a leader disguised as modesty. On the other hand, I know that my mental and emotional strength as a leader is enhanced by the generous appreciative  engagement of my “followers”, either as participants in my work or at my Torah discussions.   

In the Torah reading this week we read how Aaron was encouraged to approach the altar when he was bashful and fearful about performing sacrifices on the altar (1). Aaron imagined the altar resembling an ox and this reminded him about his past failure when he built an altar for a false god, the golden calf (2). Aaron carried the burden of that failure for the rest of his life. Yet the main stimulus for him being involved with the golden calf was the loss of faith by the people, which all but forced his hand.

The wording of the phrase in which Aaron was invited to approach the altar relates to the question of the impact of followers on their leaders. “Moses said to Aaron, a) "Approach the altar and perform your sin offering…and atone for yourself and [atone] for the people, and b) perform the people's sacrifice, and atone for them (3). This appears quite repetitive, Aaron is told twice to atone for the people. However, the atonement for the people actually involves two different elements. Aaron’s offering of a calf as a personal sin offering for himself is also partially an atonement for the people (4). Aaron’s sin is not only his own. This idea is also found in the way the offering of the anointed priest’s offering is described as well. “If the anointed priest sins, to the guilt of the people, then he shall bring for his sin which he has committed, an unblemished young bull as a sin offering to the Lord” (5).

A sheikh I know reflected that we spend a lot of time giving leadership courses, perhaps we would be better off teaching people how to be followers. To all who have supported me in my work or teaching, thank you for helping me be as strong, mentally, emotionally and spiritually as I am. Thank you to the Australian supporter who sent me text messages about helping me from a hotel room in New York yesterday, at 7:00 am his time, while on holiday with his family. Thank you to the people who attend my Torah discussion group on a Saturday afternoon, who offer their thoughts, reflections and questions. Thank you dear reader for spending your precious time reading my thoughts. The success of leaders belongs to their followers as well as to the them. And when they fail, the buck stops with them... and perhaps a little bit with their followers too.

   
Notes

  1. Torat Cohanim, in Torah Shlaima, p. 154.
  2. Raavad cited in Torah Shlaima, p. 154.
  3. Leviticus 9:7.
  4. Abarbanel, Vayikra, p.108 (Chorev edition). Abarbanel’s interpretation of the atonement for the people that was included in Aaron’s offering is that Aaron’s sin “was a great stumbling block for the people”. However, his reference to the verse in Leviticus 4:3 can be plausibly interpreted in the way that I am suggesting in this post, even though this is not quite the way he explains it.
  5. Leviticus 4:3. The translation is mine, others such as the translation on chabad.org renders it as “If the anointed kohen sins, bringing guilt to the people, then he shall bring for his sin which he has committed”

Friday, April 1, 2016

Don’t keep it simple or calm! On political and other leadership

The contrast between Donald Trump and our current prime minister could hardly be greater. The “Donald” fearlessly commits to punishing women for having abortions, ‘building a wall that Mexico will pay for’ and barring Muslims entry to the US. I cringed when I read Kristina Keneally’s sarcastic ridiculing of the caution of our Prime Minister in her article; “Let’s cut Turnbull some slack, he’s had a hard week after making a decision[i]”. Another comparison could be made between the complexity of Hilary Clinton’s candidacy and the simplicity of the Sanders economic message. The attraction of the simple is undeniable. Despite my strong feelings about the leaders more generally, this post is focused on the merit of different leadership styles rather than on the personalities. 

 I was told the other day to calm down while talking passionately about my ideas. I thought: ‘No way will I calm down’. Sitting alongside emotion’s potential for destruction and messiness, is its potency as an ingredient of positive change. I love watching Bernie Sanders getting carried away in delight, as when a bird settled on his podium, or in anger when talking about injustice. On the other hand, emotion coupled with arrogance can be truly scary in a leader.

I also choose to embrace, albeit reluctantly, my hesitancy and difficulty making decisions. While it might be considered heroic or “manly” to be decisive, it can also lead to harmful decisions.

In this week’s Torah reading, we find a caution against getting carried away with emotion in the case of Aaron’s sons who spontaneously and joyously[ii] brought an offering that they were not commanded to bring[iii]. Passion is vital, as symbolised by the constant fire in the temple [iv], but it must be combined with humility[v]. Humility is also highlighted in commentary about Aaron being told by Moses to step forward to leadership[vi]. It is suggested that Aaron was reluctant about leadership, worried about a past failure. However he was told “it is for/because of this that you were chosen[vii]”. This quality of humility and reluctance to lead is itself the virtue that makes Aaron deserving of leadership[viii].  Sanders seems to have a combination of humility and passion which I am drawn to.   

I also have been thinking about the qualities attributed to honey and salt in our traditions. Honey is seen as highly potent and not at all complex: it simply adds to the flavour of foods. Salt is complicated. If you put a lot of salt on a plant, it will destroy it; however, put salt on other foods and it preserves them. So salt is complicated in that it’s  both preserving and destructive. Of the two elements, it is salt that is required in the temple and honey that is generally banned. That might be of some comfort to Clinton or Kasich supporters if complexity was the only thing that mattered.  Humility and passion, coupled with an embrace of complexity and caution, are some of the needed qualities for leadership. As Ed Kotch said when he was running for Mayor of New York, “there are many people better qualified than me to be mayor. None of them are running this year”.  I pray that whoever leads both the US and Australia be blessed with the required qualities to do so.   


[i] The Guardian
[ii] Torat Cohanim, in Torah Shlaima p3, 1
[iii] Leviticus 10:1
[iv] Schneerson, Rabbi Y. Y. in Hayom Yom,  21 Adar II
[v] Talmud, Eruvin 63a, Yoma 53a, and Torah Cohanim
[vi] Leviticus 9:7
[vii] Torah Cohanim cited in Rashi

[viii] Baal Shem Tov in Degel Machne Efrayim, in Greenberg, A.Y. (1992) Torah Gems, Orenstien, Tel Aviv p.266

Friday, April 5, 2013

Grief and Loss (Shemini)



Envy, grief, anxiety, resentment and anger are not just unpleasant for the person feeling these emotions but also for the people around them. One young man struggling with painful inner turmoil told me “I put a mask on every morning”, a false smile firmly planted on his face to get through the day. There is merit in containing our emotions, thinking about events differently perhaps or considering time and place. Equally, there is a need to acknowledge that we feel what we feel, however painful, and not seek to deny reality. Both of these approaches are reflected in the teachings of our sages and the Torah itself. The nuances of these teachings shed additional light on this challenge. 

Aaron the brother of Moses, and his wife Elisheva, are confronted with the death of their two sons, Nadab and Abihu, in middle of a very public celebration of the dedication ceremony of the temporary temple in the desert. The text does not mention Elisheva and does not tell us about Aaron’s initial reaction, only that after Moses speaks to him he is “silent[i]”. 

Commentators offer a variety of interpretations about what happened prior to his chat with Moses. One tells us that Aaron was crying out loud at first[ii], “screaming out of the bitterness of his spirit[iii]”.  “It is not right” argues another “that he should raise his voice and scream before God on this day… of the joy of his (God’s) heart[iv]”.  How dare he make a scene in God’s house - even if his two sons had just died?

The meaning of Aaron’s silence is also ambiguous. One translation renders his silence as praising God[v], or a quietness of the heart and an inner calmness of the spirit[vi] reflecting his acceptance of the tragedy. Today part of the ritual response to the death of a loved one is to recite “blessed is the true judge”, in acceptance of God’s judgement. Another view is that Aaron is persuaded by Moses that the death of his sons had a different meaning and reflected their greatness[vii]. Yet other commentaries see his silence as being about having a broken heart[viii] or “his heart becoming like an inanimate stone…not accepting any consolation from Moses as no soul was left in him”.
 
Moses also faces a moment of loss, not as great as Aaron’s but still substantial. He thought he would have the role of high priest in the temple, which would be passed on to his descendants. Instead, by God’s command he appointed his brother Aaron to the position he had coveted for himself. In a poignant observation one commentator writes that despite Moses’ humility and righteousness, every living heart feels[ix]!

In other commentary, Moses is praised for wholeheartedly installing Aaron in the role and being happy for him in it. When Aaron is reluctant, Moses insists that he is reciprocating Aaron’s earlier joy at Moses being chosen a leader rather than himself as the older brother. 

It might not be a contradiction. Moses might have felt the deep pain of disappointment at first, but perhaps after noticing and acknowledging his feeling to himself, he then took a deep breath, even a long quiet walk in the desert and reflected on how he was feeling and whether there was another way to look at it. When he found this other perspective he changed his thinking and was able to feel happy for his brother rather than sorry for himself. One of the wisest women in our tradition, Beruria, managed to shift her thinking about the death of her two sons from solely focusing on her loss to the idea that these children were loaned to her by God who then collected them. In contrast to Beruria, we are simply taught that Elisheva goes from the joy of having her husband installed as high priest and her two sons as deputy high priest, to the terrible sadness of a mother who has lost her children[x].


[i] Leviticus 10:1-3
[ii] Ramban
[iii] Abarbanel’s understanding of Ramban’s commentary
[iv] Abarbanel
[v] Targum Unkelus, version in the Chumash Kesser Torah, cited in Torah Shlaima
[vi] Shem Olam cited in Torah Shlaima
[vii] Rashi This connection is based on the idea that when the great were harshly punished for disrespecting the temple, it showed the importance of the temple and would have a positive impact on the rest of the people.  
[viii] Toldot Adam (commentary on Mechilta) cited in Torah Shlaima
[ix] Ohr Hachayim
[x] Rabenu Bchai

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Loss Trivial and Tragic and Silence of the heart

The trivial in tragic times
I have been very blessed to be able to think about trivial losses. I cannot begin to imagine the recent devastating losses in Japan, New Zealand, Libya and Queensland and the holy land. Nor can I grasp the loss of Indigenous Australians who would hide their children when the Authorities came looking for them[1], echoing stories of Jewish children in Russia that were kidnapped for 25 years of enforced assimilation. But in my limited way I will try to shed some light on this, but may tread more lightly than the harsh times call for.

Loss of privilege - in the town of Berry
I am on a flight to London. Travel is a gift of good fortune as much as technology. The privilege of travel that I often take for granted was taken from me yesterday. I expected to be home between 7 and 8 pm, travelling on reasonable roads between 60-110 km per hour. There is heavy rainfall, my friend Sheik Haisam behind the wheel, slows down slightly. Then the traffic stops. We wait, wait some more and some more. Nothing is moving. There are police ahead. The road is blocked, covered in water. No idea when it will reopen. Could be hours, the Sheik, a priest named Buzz and I might need to spend the night in the tiny town of Berry NSW (Population: 1934). The road behind us has also been blocked. The reality sinks in, there is no detour, no way to fix this.  

Relief in powerlessness and acceptance
A strange equanimity enveloped me. A bit like when we were kids and the bus broke down on camp, we were stuck in middle of nowhere and it was fun. So we got out of the car, wandered around the town in the light rain, pondered the ominous sign of the dingy on the roof of the local pub (Bar for Americans) and cracked corny jokes. It's what my father would have done, the jokes that is, not the corny bit.

My equanimity about spending the night with two friends in Berry is no great achievement[2]. A remarkable story about King David has him fasting and in absolute distress about his sick child, until he learns that the boy has died, when he arises and goes off to bathe and change. When he is questioned about this, he says “'While the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept; for I said: Who knows whether the Lord will not be gracious to me, that the child may live? But now he is dead, wherefore should I fast? Can I bring him back again[3]”. It seems that in addition to loss, there is the additional distress of trying to prevent catastrophe, which is often as frustrating as it is futile.

Finding the silver lining in the downside of blessing
I found the following story illuminating,
The Master's[4] son had passed away. His disciples came to comfort him.
Disciple 1: Adam lost his son, yet he was comforted.
Master: Do I need to add Adam's tragedy to mine?...
R. Jose entered and sat before him.
R. Jose: My master, would you like me to say one thing?
Master: Say.
R. Jose: Aaron lost his two great sons, Nadav and Abihu[5] both of whom died in the same day, yet he accepted consolation.
Master: Do I need to add Aaron's tragedy to mine....
Finally one disciple told the master a parable.
A king entrusted a treasure to his servant, as long as he had the treasure he suffered because he was worried that something might happen to it. When the king retrieved the item he felt relieved . Upon hearing this, the master was comforted[6]. 
The responsibility the master had for raising this child to be a good person and servant of God had been completed and he was relieved of it.

Silence and Stillness of the spirit
The howling in pain sits alongside the stoic silence. In the case of Aaron the brother of Moses, we learn that his two sons were killed by God for an offence that is not entirely clear[7].  The Torah tells us “Vayidom Aaron”. This is translated by some “Aaron was silent”[8]. An alternative view argues that the choice of word, “Vayidom” rather than the common “Shtikah” is significant. Shtika is  about  not talking, crying or sighing. Words with the root “Dom”, indicate a silence of the heart, and an inner calmness of the spirit[9].  Jews pray everyday that “toward those who curse me, may my heart be still (or silent)[10]”. Aaron justified the judgement upon himself[11], in a way that Jewish law still mandates today. The response to news of bereavement is “Blessed be the true judge”.

On the other end of the spectrum we have an interpretation that Aaron's “heart was broken out of the pain of his sons”[12].

Meaningful suffering
This discussion cannot ignore Victor Frankel's concept that 'if one has a why, one can withstand any how[13]', in that if one can find meaning in his suffering s/he can bear it. This dynamic is also at work in Aaron's ordeal, when Moses states “this is what God has spoken, with my holy ones will I be sanctified and on the faces of all the nation will I be respected[14]”. This helps Aaron deal with his loss.

A parable is given to explain the sanctification of God through the death of Aaron's sons.
A king hears that one of the people of the palace sat in his thrown room and put the kings crown on his head. He thinks that if it becomes known that this happened and he got away with it, no one will respect the king. So he has the offender beheaded and this way everyone takes the king seriously[15].

I find the parable jarring, especially when I think about recent events in Libya, yet in1300 BC this kind of reasoning would have helped Aaron find meaning and be still or silent in the face of a terrible loss.

Responding to the suffering of others
Silence is also useful for those seeking to support the bereaved according to Jewish teachings. Dutch Rabbi Vorst, in his outstanding honest and valuable book “Why” talks of his own struggle to deal with the loss of his child. He expresses intense frustration with well intentioned people who visited him and tried to distract him with small talk. He did not want to be distracted, he wanted to be present with his loss[16]. Jewish law guides “comforters” to be silent and follow the cues of the bereaved. I think this is beautifully illustrated in the description of R. Jose's behaviour in the story above, where he sits first, then asks permission.

Conclusion
In spite of all of the above, one of the teachings I find most useful is the statements that “it is not in our hands to grasp (the reasons for) the tranquillity of the wicked nor the ordeals of the righteous,[17]”. The mystery of loss can at times be responded to with acceptance which can be less distressing than trying to control the uncontrollable. Finding meaning or thinking differently about loss has also helped some people. We dare not judge people in how they deal with distress. Each person will respond differently and if we are in a position to try to support them, taking cues from the sufferer is useful, as is silence. I conclude with a prayer, that it be the will of the almighty that real suffering and loss come to an end and that more people be in a position to think about problems like whether or not they will have to spend a few hours in the lovely town of Berry NSW. 


[1]    Heard from Lex Dadd, a Darug man at Maroubra, NSW Australia on 22/03/2011
[2]    Although it did involved cancelling my commitments for the next day and some risk that I would not be on the plane  to London.
[3]  Samuel II, 12:22-23
[4]    Rabbi Yochanan Ben Zakai
[5]    Leviticus 10:2
[6]    Talmud, Avod D'Rabbi Nathan
[7]    The Torah says they brought a fire or offering that God had not commanded them. Interpretations vary about what this actually means, they include the suggestion that they were drunk during the service among others.
[8]    Rashi, Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel
[9]    Shem Olam, cited in Kasher, M. (1978), Torah Shlaima, Vol 28. p.10, note 24
[10]  The Amida prayer, “Vlimkalily, Nafshi Tidom”
[11]  Menorat Hamaor, part 3, p146 cited in Kasher, ibid, also in Shem Olam. Kasher also includes a version of Unkelus' translation that renders the verse as “Aaron praised”.
[12]  Toldot Adam also cited in Kasher, note 25
[13]  Frankel, V., Man's Search for Meaning
[14]  Leviticus 10:4
[15]  Midrash Hagadol cited in cited in Kasher, M. (1978), Torah Shlaima, Vol 28. p.8
[16]  Vorst, Rabbi Y,(1991) Why? Reflections on the Loss of a Loved One
[17] Pirkey Avot, (Ethics of the fathers)  4:11