Beyond the Life of I

As of last Wednesday, the president of Syria was floating on a Russian warship off the coast of Syria, continuing to order the wanton destruction of his citizens, refusing any compromise, and adding that if things reach a certain point, his Syrian supporters should aim their missiles at Israel.

Political analysts across the board say it’s only a matter of time before he leaves the country permanently.

He had the opportunity to end the violence at numerous points during the previous year and did not, choosing to maintain a death grip on his country that has had disastrous results.

How does a leader become so desensitized to the needs of his own people?

There is a neurotic ego at work here, whereby a leader loses sight of the value of his constituents – when the “I” fills the room, there’s no room left for anyone else.

I’d like to examine an ancient showdown and the insight it provides for us about the danger of total self-absorption and the need to look beyond ourselves altogether.

I'll call this sermon, Beyond the Life of I.

The ancient showdown I refer to was between God and Pharaoh – an explosion of egos.  Moses, the leader of the enslaved Israelites, says, God wants you to let the people go.  To which Pharaoh replies, “Who is God that I should listen to him?”

Pharaoh is so self-absorbed that he shuts himself off from the pain of his people – not only doesn’t he hear God, he doesn’t hear them.  God sends a plague, Pharaoh resists, then relents, then resists again.  His heart grows harder as Egypt sinks further and further into misery.

He is the antecedent to Captain Ahab, Muammar Gadaffi, Bashar al-Assad.  The mentality, in less intense form, has impacted many political leaders and each of us can possess this mentality to some extent, to our own detriment and the detriment of those who rely on us.

Back to the ancient showdown.  What rationale does God give for the plagues?  Ba’avor teda ki ein kamoni b’chol ha’aretz – for you to know that there is none like me in the land. 

And later ba’avor heroteecha et kochee ul’maan saper shmee b’chol ha’aretz – maybe I put you on the throne, God has Moses tell Pharaoh, in order to show you my power and so that others will speak of my name throughout the land.

What’s going on here?  Surely, one can say that God is proving that His power trumps Pharaoh’s power.  But maybe there’s another layer, and that is that God is showing Pharaoh the danger of ego unlimited.  See what happens when “I” goes unchecked? 

The unchecked I is dangerous, even (perhaps especially) as applied by God.

Where to go from here?

Last week, I attended a lecture about Abraham Joshua Heschel, whom I referenced a few weeks ago, at the school in Manhattan that bears his name.  The lecture was given by Dr. Shai Held, a leading authority on Heschel.

Heschel said it’s important for people to learn how to experience wonder, how to sense the grandeur and majesty that exist in other people and in nature.

According to Held’s thesis, the purpose of wonder, for Heschel, is to get us to think and feel beyond ourselves, to recognize that there is a world beyond the Life of I.

Held said that Heschel once made the following comment.  The difference between Zeus, the Greek God, and the God of the Bible is that whereas Zeus likes women, the God of the Bible likes widows.

Not to take the comparison too literally, the sense is that God as described in the Bible demonstrates self-transcending concern.

And that, for Heschel, should be the model for each of us.  If we look at the world and one another with wonder, we start to expand our field of vision.  The myopic mania of an ancient Pharaoh or a modern Assad yields to a broader perspective.

We may be deeply frustrated by some of the seemingly endless negotiations and perorations that democratic leaders undertake, especially as we watch our congress engage current issues like fiscal cliffs and gun control, but I suspect that deep down we understand that such leadership is ultimately healthier and more effective than the more dogmatic, myopic kind.

Roger Cohen, in a recent article, lambasted certain Palestinian leaders and Israeli leaders for their continued, if not increasing, intransigence – Palestinian leaders who continue to deny Israel’s right to exist, and Israeli leaders who, as their government seems to move further to the right, increasingly deny the possibility of a Palestinian state. 

In my view, it’s a bad scenario, both sides retreating further into the deceptive comfort of the world of I.

In the world of I, there is no recognition, no compromise.

Leaving for a moment the ancient Nile Delta, the cities of modern Syria and the towns and villages of Israel, Gaza and the West Bank, I want to take us to the privacy of our own offices and homes.

Many of us are living the Life of I in ways that seem comfortable, but run the risk of sucking the life out of the people around us.

How often does one spouse take up so much emotional space that it leaves little room for the other?

Arnold Bennett author of Riceyman Steps, an early 20^th century British novel, describes a couple whereby the wife endured the gradual seepage, year after year, of her husband’s will into her.

How often do parents impose our insecurities and dreams on our children? 

The quest for the right college bumper sticker can suck the gas out of the car and the life out of the child.

We have seen marriages derailed and children upended and when it happens, we wonder if it had to be that way.

We wonder if things could have been different if, frankly, our sense of wonder at the other might have diminished our intransigent Napoleonic zeal.

The Exodus side of God, MY name, NONE LIKE ME, is not the only side of God.  There is also the Genesis side of God, where God creates and says, “now YOU fill the earth,” where God watches as the first man and woman disobey and says, “It bothers you suddenly that you’re naked?  I’ll make you a pair of clothes.” 

There is the side of God described by the rabbis who believed that God followed the Israelites into Exile.

The side of God described by the kabbalists where God pulls back to make room for everything else.

Life which is merely about win win win and me me me is doomed to burn out, destroying nations and families in dramatic and subtle ways.

Martin Luther King was accused during his lifetime of appeasing the authorities, of not fighting oppression strongly enough.  His policy of nonviolent protest was hardly met with universal acclaim.

On and around the anniversary of his birth, I ask us, as we consider him in comparison with his detractors - whose legacy has endured? 

In his lecture, Dr. Shai Held made a very important point with which I’d like to conclude.

We get up every morning and what’s the first thing a Jew is supposed to say?  Modeh ani l’fanecha.  I thank you for the soul which you have returned to me.

Except that the word order in the Hebrew is different than in the English, and that’s significant, says Held.

The first word is not ani – “I”; it’s modeh – thank.  The syntax of the prayer encourages us to say the word “thank” before we say the word “I.”

For sure, we exist only within ourselves.  We view the world through our eyes and hear the world using our ears.  But, to paraphrase the British group, Yes, we don’t have to surround ourselves with ourselves.  And we can try hard to say “thank” and “you” and “we” – to recognize that there’s a life and a world outside of I.

For ancient kingdoms and modern nations, for parents and lovers, the Life of I is not enough. 

The more we recognize that, the greater the chance that all of us will journey from a land of servitude to a land of promise and freedom, hopefully bringing others along for the ride.