Take
this as somewhat cynical. Take this as a slight conceit. Take this as just so
much rabbinics. An extra thought for this Shabbat – Parashat Yitro.
Tomorrow
morning, every rabbi in every synagogue all over the world, will ask the
congregation to rise, imagine that they are, with every Jew that ever was,
every Jew that is, and every Jew that ever will be, “once again” standing at
the foot of Mount Sinai, and listen to the words of the Ten Commandments as
chanted from the Torah. It’s an amazing teaching moment for rabbis. (Actually,
every Shabbat, every hospital visit, every funeral, every class, every every, is an amazing teaching and learning moment, that unfortunately only comes once.) I have no doubt that rabbis who are educators,
social workers, chaplains or for that matter stock brokers have also been
teaching and reflecting on this parashah all week.
That’s
not exactly what I am thinking about this Erev Shabbat, this Friday morning,
this very moment. Here come the cynical, conceited rabbinic thoughts. Notable about
this electrifying and unifying event at Sinai are bookend events which also
reflect a kind of “unity” on the part of the Israelites. Last week we read in
the Torah that, immediately after they escaped from the Egyptians and sang
their victory song at the Reed Sea, the Israelites kvetched to Moses: “Where is
there food? Where is there water? What have you done to us?” In a few weeks we’ll
read about the incident of the Golden Calf, which comes out of the Israelites unanimously
kvetching again: “Where is Moses? Where is God? What will become of us?” Moshe
Rabbeinu, Moses Our Teacher, Moses Our Rabbi, takes the brunt of it. Moses, who
is in a very real way the rabbinic paradigm.
When
I was in rabbinical school about 20 years ago, my teacher, Rabbi Elliot Dorff,
told us: “Your job as rabbis is to save the Jewish people!”
(I
immediately thought of my Red Cross Life Saving/Life Guard Training. The final
test is to swim to, take hold of, and bring back to shore a wildly flailing instructor,
who kicks, punches, and climbs on the would-be rescuer, just as happens in real
life. Drowning people are so afraid of drowning, they nearly kill their
rescuers.)
I
raised my hand. “Elliot, what if they don’t WANT to be saved?”
“That’s
precisely why YOU have to save them.”
And
so we will – even if it kills us.
To
all my fellow rabbis, to all my fellow Jews – I’ll see you at Sinai. Shabbat Shalom!
