Have you ever felt that you were not worthy? Maybe it was for being given an honor or being promoted to a position. If so, you’re not alone, as that is how our ancestor Aaron felt when he was chosen to become the High Priest.

       When Aaron was going to go offer sacrifices at the tabernacle as High Priest, he was ashamed. Aaron was embarrassed and so When he was told “approach the altar…and atone on your own behalf and on behalf of the people,”[1] the medieval commentator Rashi speculates that he did not move.[2]

        Why didn’t Aaron move forward to approach the altar? Perhaps because one of the sacrifices he was to offer was a calf [3] as a purification offering to atone for the sin of the golden calf. This is the only time a calf is offered on the altar. The Midrash asserts that Moses had to reassure Aaron, saying “come forward-it is for this reason that you were chosen.”[4]

       Why was Aaron chosen to lead Israel as High Priest despite his making the golden calf? Noam Elimelech, the second century Hasidic commentator, asserts that this is the mark of the Tzadik-to “Always see in his eyes sins on every aspect that leads towards sin (places where it is easy to sin) and always submit and lower himself and in front of the masses.”[5] Because Aaron saw the imperfections within himself and recognized the mistake he had made, he was precisely the right person to become High Priest.

The point of Noam Elimelech’s teaching is that Aaron being mindful of what he did wrong prepares him for being the High Priest. Unfortunately, we see that Aaron’s sons-Nadav and Avihu-were not so mindful and underwent a terrible fate, offering a “foreign fire” and being consumed by fire.[6]

Of course, there is a shadow side of this-being so focused on one’s imperfections that it paralyzes you from taking constructive action. The early Mussar movement, especially from the school of Khelm, focused on self-improvement through being critical of all one’s mistakes and limitations. That approach can cause shame and fear of making a mistake and the consequences that would bring. When one is constantly afraid of messing up, it often becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Rather, if one is hesitant because of past transgression, like Aaron, yet moves forward with gentle encouragement, like that given by Moses, they are more likely to succeed. While fulfilling the maxim of being careful before we act or speak, we cannot forget the reason we are here in the first place and the Hasidic ideal that each of us has a special mission to carry out.[7]

As we come out of Passover, it is my hope and prayer that each of us channels any feelings of shame, inadequacy as to our capabilities or whether we can fulfill our role, into living our lives with the feeling that we have been chosen for a special purpose. Aaron had trepidation in not feeling that he was the right person to lead Israel as the High Priest. His hesitancy coupled by his coming forward to atone for his past mistake and turn over a new leaf, is precisely the reason why he was the right choice.

[1] Leviticus 9:7

[2] Rashi on Leviticus 9:7 ד”ה קרב אל המזבח

[3] Leviticus 9:2. See Rashi there.

[4] Rashi on Leviticus 9:7 based off Sifra Miluim 1:8

[5] Noam Elimelech, Shemini Comment 1

[6] Leviticus 10:1-2

[7] See Netivot Shalom Lech Lecha

God is a man of war-God is His name.[1] This verse from the Song at the Sea showed God’s power in this battle. Often, we think of war as an external thing. At times, however, war can be a battle against our inner demons. Like my favorite interpretation between Jacob and the angel, most of our wars are not against an external force but rather what is going on inside of us.

Dr Aaron T. Beck, founder of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, identified that the best way to fight our negative thoughts is by acknowledging, understanding and processing them rather than battling them. Through modifying these negative, automatic thoughts he treated depression.

I think about this in light of Moses’ initial struggle to move forward. He seemed paralysed, the sea in front of him and the Egyptian flank behind him. God’s response was מה תצעק אלי? דבר אל בני ישראל וישאו

why are you crying out to me? Speak to the children of Israel and move forward!”[2] Moses was stuck as many of us are during difficult situations or through debilitating thoughts. He needed God’s help to push him forward.

The same is true for us. When we are stuck, or in the midst of uncertainty, at times we need to ask for help. This is so challenging to do yet it is necessary in order for us to take a step forward. It also takes time and relationship building to be able to move, as well as confidence that at times we will relapse or take a step back along the way and that’s ok. Moses needed to know and feel that God, the Man of War, was on his side and would help him lead the people across to the other side. Through having patience, understanding and knowing that we are not alone, we can conquer our inner demons, cut through the paralysis and break on through to the other side.

Of course, this is easier said than done and we need resources, especially when the pain feels too great to bear. Enter the medieval mystical poet, Jalāl al-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī, who provides us with the poem The Guest House. I hope it will comfort you as it has for me when facing inner demons. This version is translated by Coleman Barks.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

[1] Exodus 15:3

[2] Exodus 14:15

God is a man of war-God is His name.[1] This verse from the Song at the Sea showed God’s power in this battle. Often, we think of war as an external thing. At times, however, war can be a battle against our inner demons. Like my favorite interpretation between Jacob and the angel, most of our wars are not against an external force but rather what is going on inside of us.

Dr Aaron T. Beck, founder of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, identified that the best way to fight our negative thoughts is by acknowledging, understanding and processing them rather than battling them. Through modifying these negative, automatic thoughts he treated depression.

I think about this in light of Moses’ initial struggle to move forward. He seemed paralysed, the sea in front of him and the Egyptian flank behind him. God’s response was מה תצעק אלי? דבר אל בני ישראל וישאו

why are you crying out to me? Speak to the children of Israel and move forward!”[2] Moses was stuck as many of us are during difficult situations or through debilitating thoughts. He needed God’s help to push him forward.

The same is true for us. When we are stuck, or in the midst of uncertainty, at times we need to ask for help. This is so challenging to do yet it is necessary in order for us to take a step forward. It also takes time and relationship building to be able to move, as well as confidence that at times we will relapse or take a step back along the way and that’s ok. Moses needed to know and feel that God, the Man of War, was on his side and would help him lead the people across to the other side. Through having patience, understanding and knowing that we are not alone, we can conquer our inner demons, cut through the paralysis and break on through to the other side.

Of course, this is easier said than done and we need resources, especially when the pain feels too great to bear. Enter the medieval mystical poet, Jalāl al-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī, who provides us with the poem The Guest House. I hope it will comfort you as it has for me when facing inner demons. This version is translated by Coleman Barks.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

[1] Exodus 15:3

[2] Exodus 14:15

          “My god, your pride will be the death of us all. Beware, it goeth before the fall!” This line, spoken by Aaron Burr to Alexander Hamilton in his play Hamilton is based on Proverbs לִפְנֵי־שֶׁ֥בֶר גָּא֑וֹן וְלִפְנֵ֥י כִ֝שָּׁל֗וֹן גֹּ֣בַהּ רֽוּחַ׃ “Pride goes before ruin; arrogance before failure.”[1] The short reading we did today begins between the episode of the golden calf and the carving of a new set of tablets.

          How could the Israelites succumb to this calf? The answer is simple: hubris. They believed that they were above the law that they had been given at Sinai 40 days earlier and could do what they wanted. They missed the test of patience and resilience in waiting for Moses’ return.

          A Hasidic Master, Meshullah Feibush Heller of Zhbarazh, write about this in chapter 2 of his work Yosher Divrei Emet. wrote as follows:

          “In reality, we humans are naturally ingrained by birth to have prideful hearts, as our Sages of blessed memory stated, ‘There are four prideful creatures, (the lion, ox, eagle, and human), and the human is more prideful than all of them.’[2]

          The Blessed One granted me a credible parable related to this. Let’s say we’re travelling on the road in a wagon and we fall asleep. The wagon driver is accompanying us and drives up a high mountain. But when the driver reaches the top of the mountain the path is flat, for we have already passed the upward slope. If we were to wake up thereafter and someone were to tell us that we’re on a mountain, we wouldn’t believe them because we can’t see any evidence to that effect. If we had initially witnessed the slope we’d ascended, we would know the truth. But now that the road is flat, on what grounds can we possibly conclude that we’re on a mountaintop? How can this reality be made known to us? Subsequently, when we descend the opposite slope, which dips into a valley, we will discern that we had been on a mountain.

          In reality, our pride is like a high mountain. If we could feel and truly know that our heart is growing prideful within us, we would certainly discern that we are experiencing pridefulness and hubris and that we’ve ascended a mountain. But we were born on this mountain, which is our pride…which is why it seems to us that we have no pride and that we’re not on a mountain at all. How can we possibly discern this to be the case if we don’t fully descend to the foot of the mountain by habituating ourselves to surrender and humility in heart and deed-and especially in heart-so that the truth will become known to us?”

          A Hasidic ideal is בטול היש, nullification of the ego. The example from our tradition is that the golden calf was burnt, grounded into powder, strewn into water and drunk by the Israelites.[3] The very thing in which Israel took pride gets destroyed and consumed by them.

This does not mean self-effacement. Rather it is recognizing the things that we do not control, that the “I” in the story, is not nearly as significant as we give it credit for. That way, when unfortunate things befall us, our world doesn’t collapse on us but rather we have the resilience to continue. As Mona Fishbane said, “It’s time to stop being the victim and become the author of your own life.”[4]

When we are on top of the mountain, let us remember that we can descend. When we on at the bottom of the mountain, let us remember that there will always be an ascent later on. The journey might be long and bumpy like a roller-coaster, but if we stay with it, we will merit seeing many vistas over the course of our lifetimes.

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[1] Proverbs 16:18

[2] Exodus Rabbah 23:13; Bavli Hagigah 13b

[3] Exodus 32:24

[4] Told to me at the Rabbinic Training Institute 2017