Remind Me Who I Am

It's important for us to remember who we are, as individuals and as a nation.  Not as simple as it sounds.  Gail Sheehy wrote a popular book called Passages in 1976 in which she outlined the challenges that people face at different stages of their lives.

I want to focus for a few moments on the 20’s.  Sheehy refers to the 20’s as the “trying 20’s” – I assume she intended the pun – the 20’s are a time in a person’s life for trying things out –relationships, professional paths – once people have gained some independence from their parents.  But the 20’s are also trying in the sense of difficult.

You look at people in their 20’s and they seem to be having an awesome time – they tend to look great, they are energetic, trying new things – big thumbs up – and in many respects they are having an awesome time.  But beneath the surface, there is often insecurity that comes form being “neither here nor there,” having left the structure of the home in which they grew up and not yet having settled into a home of their own creation.

It is really important for people at any stage in life to feel grounded – to feel connected to family and community – but it is especially important during this phase of a person's life.  Our three children are currently all in their 20's and I see how important it is first-hand.

In this phase of life a person needs to be reminded who he or she is fundamentally – what is the bedrock that I come from, and what is my potential.  The details – those can be worked out, even when painful – but the essential "who am I" needs to be conveyed by the people who care most. 

We don't know how old Jacob was when he left Beer Sheva on his way to Haran – escaping from his brother who wanted to kill him and heading off to find himself a spouse.

Who knows if he was actually in his 20's, but he was definitely in a trying phase of his life.  One has to imagine that he felt vulnerable all on his own, fearful of his brother's anger, possibly remorseful about his actions in the past, anxious of his prospects for the future.

Vayetze – he has left somewhere, but he surely hasn't arrived anywhere yet – and he won't settle for decades.

He is, emotionally, psychology, a representative of everyone who, at a certain point – is between the relative stability of the home we grew up in and the relative stability of the home we will establish.

If you've ever been in that place – you left home, maybe for university, maybe to seek out a professional opportunity, maybe to move a new land – and you have no idea where you will ultimately land – then you likely can relate to Jacob's situation.

Jacob has a remarkable dream.  It's fanciful, filled with powerful imagery – a ladder ascending to heaven, angels climbing up and down.

And then God appears.  And God says, I am the God of Abraham and Isaac.  I will give this land to you and your descendants.  You will spread out north, south, east and west.  Through you and your descendants, all of the families of the earth will be blessed.

This is the perfect dream, and those are ideal statements, for a person going through a major transitional phase of life.  God is a pretty good therapist, you might say.

Dear Jacob, says God:  You may feel isolated and alone but you didn't just drop in from outer space.  Your grandparents sought a connection with me and they have begun to relate to the world in a unique way.  Your grandfather advocated for justice for people he didn't know, he and your grandmother opened their tent to strangers, your father and mother continued those traditions in their own ways.

And, Jacob – although you are in transit right now, you will ultimately find your place – you will be a source of blessing to others.

And so will your descendants.

And so I wonder – what can we do to ensure that our children and grandchildren, our nieces and nephews – who are abroad in Europe for their first job, or squeezing into a bedroom in Manhattan that they can't quite afford, and/or trying to navigate romantic relationships – what can we do to ensure, during the "trying" years – that we are conveying some variation of the message that God conveyed to Jacob?

You are part of a larger reality that gives context to your values and, by extension, your identity.

Lifecycle events provide an opportunity for families to reflect on values in ways that can shape the identities of their members.

I recently attended a memorial service where the deceased was honored, among other things, for his commitment to the joy and benefit of scholarship and learning. That commitment has become a legacy for members of the family from one generation to another, it shapes their priorities and the way they approach their personal and professional lives.

I also attended a service where a grandson reflected on his grandmother's commitment to social activism – her advocacy for women's rights and racial equality going back more than half a century – and how that advocacy inspired his own commitments in these areas.

The "who am I" question, which starts when we are teens, revs up during our trying 20's, and continues to some degree throughout our lives, can be a source of excitement but also anxiety. 

It's so important for us, especially during transitional, vulnerable times, to have the influence of those who can remind us that a large part of "who we are" is impacted by the values that our family and community and people hold – and that we, in the future, will have a strong impact on others, will be a source of blessing for them.

Remind me who I am.  It's not something we tend to think of explicitly, especially when we are "neither here nor there," transitioning from one phase of life to another, busy with life's myriad details.

But most of us want to be reminded.  And those of us who have the good fortune of knowing people who are in transition – from childhood to adulthood, from one part of the journey to the next – can do a real good deed when we remind them of the larger context of their lives – not to suffocate, not to micro-mentor, but to give grounding and shape.

Before I conclude, I want to make an observation about our relationship to our great nation right now.  I think that many of us are wondering and worrying about our future during a time of transition – and I think that we're wondering and worrying across political lines and ideological perspectives. 

Maybe we'll have a dream like Jacob did, reminding us of the relationships and values that ensure continuity with our past and ground us to face the future – but let's say that we don't have such an explicit dream.

I believe that during this transitional time we want to and ned to be reminded of who we are.

So here's a brief, localized (but generalizable) encapsulation of who we are.

If we are Americans, then we were either born in, or moved to, a country which champions liberty and justice for all – and who is included in the "all" has expanded, over the centuries that American has been in existence so that it now includes diversity of race, ethnicity, religion and gender.

Second, if we are New Yorkers, then we hail from a tradition of cacophonous diversity.  I read an excellent book called The Island at the Center of the World by Russell Shorto which describes the history of New York under Dutch rule, when it was known as New Amsterdam back in the 17th century.  And guess what – while the Puritan colony up in New England was pretty homogenous racially and religiously, New Amsterdam was teeming with diversity – religious, ethnic and racial.  Not everyone always got along within and across religious, ethnic and racial lines, but there was a spirit of acceptance of diversity – notwithstanding Peter Stuyvesent's intolerance – that could not be suppressed.  If so-called “New York values” means that everyone is welcome to live with freedom and opportunity – then I'll take it.  The author argues that we tend to look at the Puritans as the example of American society worth celebrating and emulating – think Thanksgiving – but we would do well to assert the model of New Amsterdam/New York for the good of the entire nation, to which I say, Amen.

Third, if we are Jews, if we are the children of Jacob, of Israel, then we live with the knowledge that our ancestors achieved personal success while advocating for justice and opportunity for others.  We live with the knowledge that our people have brought their dual commitment – to doing well AND doing good – to every place in which we have lived.

The many of us in this room who are New York American Jews have a powerful legacy of values that helps us inhabit the world consistent with our three-fold identity.  We must continue to embrace and advocate for freedom and opportunity for all because - well - that's who we are and that's what we do.  

When we live through the "trying" decade or decades in our lives and when we navigate trying times in our nation, we need to be reminded of who we are.

For us, no less than for Jacob, there is an impressive past that we can claim and a glorious future that we can help to create.  If we make choices that are in keeping with who we are – choices that enable us to do well for ourselves and good for others –then we, too, can be a source of blessing to all the families of the earth.

Originally shared with the Temple Israel of Great Neck community on December 10, 2016, Parashat Vayetze