Being Yourself

A young man named Jason recently became a Bar Mitzvah at my Temple, completing the Jewish rite of passage for a thirteen-year-old boy or girl to become a Jewish adult. Jason read from the Torah, led the service and did a wonderful job. Jason is about 5 feet, 2 inches, with lots of curly hair. In preparation for his Bar Mitzvah, we asked Jason: “Who is your favorite Jewish hero and why?” He replied: “King David, because he defeated Goliath who was much bigger than him, which reminds me of myself!”

What made this response so wonderful was not only its humor, but the point behind it, that Jason is comfortable in his own skin. Jason knows that he is small in stature and he accepts that fact. Jason does not look to ignore or deny who he is. By joking about his God-given size, he set a good example for all of us. He reminded us of the value of being comfortable with who we are.

All of us have been dealt a mixed hand by our Divine maker. We may excel in one area, but struggle in others, like the student who is good in math but has difficulty in English. Sometimes, we may wish that we were smarter, stronger or more attractive than we are. And no one has every personality trait that they would desire. We might lack patience, or fortitude, or we may struggle to make good decisions at work or at home.

Judaism teaches us that we need not be perfect, we need simply to be ourselves. Our goal is not to be like a marble state of Venus or Zeus, perfectly sculpted in body or personality. To see this lesson, we turn to a Rabbi Zusia, probably not a relative of Zeus.

Once Rabbi Zusia came to his followers. His eyes were red with tears. "Zusia, what's the matter?” they said. Zusia replied: "The other day, I had a dream. In the dream, God’s angels came to me to ask me a question. At first, I thought they were going to ask me: 'Why weren't you like Moses, leading your people out of slavery?'" I was scared because I knew that I could not be like Moses. But the angels did not ask me that question. Then I was afraid that the angels would ask me: “Why weren't you like Joshua, leading your people into the Promised Land?'" But the angels did not ask me that question either. Finally the angels looked at me and asked: “Why weren’t you Zusia?”

Like Zusia, most of us cannot reach the level of Moses or Joshua. Yet we can all be ourselves. We are all born with certain gifts. Maybe we understand the language of numbers, and can become accountants. Or perhaps we have an ingrained sense of justice and fairness, and we can advocate for the less fortunate. Maybe we are kind to others, letting a car turn into our lane rather than cutting them off. The trick is not to strive to be perfect, like a Greek statue. Nor do we benefit from envying others and desiring their looks, skills or personality. Rather, our task is to search for our own God-given gifts and embrace and develop them.

Parents play an especially important role in helping children to find their abilities and appreciate who they are. Yet, parents can also create problems within a family, when they try to make their children into people that they are not. In the Torah, the brothers Jacob and Esau were very different. Esau was the big athletic type, hairy and muscular, and he loved to hunt and be out in nature. Jacob was quiet and mild and liked to stay in the camp.

Problems developed when their parents began to favor one over the other with Isaac elevating Esau for his hunting prowess, and Rebekah favoring Jacob. Rather than accepting their children for who they were, each parent chose a side, and ignored the special skills of the other son.

Of course, the situation quickly got messy. Jacob stole his brothers’ birthright and blessing, and had to flee home from his brothers’ wrath. It was only years later when the two brothers found a way to reconcile with one another.

To learn from our biblical ancestors, parents benefit from accepting the skills or abilities of their children, even if their children do not meet long held expectations. One of my professors at Hebrew Union College, my rabbinical school, is a brilliant scholar. He is a rabbi, has a PhD and is very well respected in his field. His daughter decided to pursue a totally different path: she is a starving artist. But the way he talks about her and the obvious pride he feels in her accomplishments and her artistry cannot be missed.

Another man that I know went to Yale Law School and is a respected lawyer. He is brilliant and makes an excellent living. He has a daughter who found her passion as a ballet dancer. She lives at home and has an office job while trying to get a break. But this father has not missed a show that his daughter performed in since she was a small girl, and he glows when he talks about her accomplishments.

When parents expect a child to be what the parents want, know that unhappiness lies ahead. But when parents expect their children to grow up to be decent human beings and to be who they are, then they help their children blossom into mature, responsible and fulfilled adults.

The Hebrew word shalom has many meanings. Shalom means “hello” and “goodbye.” Shalom also means “peace.” A family strives for shalom bayit, which means a peaceful home. When the members of a family live in harmony, accepting one another, listening, and caring for each other, they create a peaceful home.

The Torah says that we all can be rodfei shalom, seekers of peace. That means that we must strive to end conflict and war. But the phrase also has a spiritual meaning. We all seek wholeness in our lives. When we find our own God-given abilities and develop them, and when we accept ourselves and others, we can bring into our lives a sense of wholeness, peace and shalom.