blogs/rabbi-huberman

Moses -- Somewhere Over the Rainbow

This past December 25th, I rewatched one of the most treasured movies of my youth.

With its wonderful colors, inspiring characters, and meticulous sets and costumes, The Wizard of Oz held my attention and inspired my imagination no less than it did when I first saw it fifty-five years ago.

There was so much which still touched my heart - perhaps now in new ways.

The lyrics to Somewhere Over the Rainbow were, I know now, written by Yip Harburg, whose real name was Isidore Hochberg, the youngest of four children born to Russian-Jewish immigrants. Its melody was composed by Harold Arlen, born Hyman Arluck. His father was a cantor. His parents had emigrated from Lithuania.

In composing Somewhere Over the Rainbow, the duo reached deep into their immigrant Jewish tradition - just before the Holocaust - and gave music to the eternal story of Jewish survival, and a land "that I heard of, once in a lullaby."

The land they'd seen in their dreams was, of course, not Oz, but Israel.

I was moved anew by the journey: four characters - the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion, and Dorothy - chasing their dreams through a magical land. The Scarecrow wished for a brain; the Tin Man a heart. The Cowardly Lion sought courage. And Dorothy just wanted to go home.

Of course we know the parable of this timeless story. All along, the Scarecrow was an insightful thinker, just as the Tin Man felt deeply: the Scarecrow was smart enough to understand what he didn't yet know, and the Tin Man could not have ached for a heart if he had not experienced a great spectrum of emotion.

Likewise, the Cowardly Lion's quest for courage was in itself a brave act. To quote from Game of Thrones - admittedly not as sunny a story - when Bran Stark asks, Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?, his father replies, That is the only time a man can be brave.

Wisdom, love, courage - they are within each of us, and have been all along. They are waiting for us to act.

And so it is with Moses, our greatest leader, who - like so many of us - questions whether he has the brain, the heart, the courage to fulfill his life's mission.

It is this week in our Torah reading, Va'era, that God instructs Moses to approach Pharaoh and demand that the Israelites be permitted to "depart from this land." (Exodus 6:11)

Moses balks. He protests that he is "a man of impeded speech." Tradition tells us that Moses had a stutter: the result of his tongue touching a hot lump of coal.

But the great 13th-century commentator Nachmanides argues that Moses' reticence concerned more than a speech impediment. He was concerned, Nachmanides suggests, that his words would inspire neither the Israelites nor Pharaoh.

Like many of us, Moses questioned whether anyone would listen when he spoke, or follow where he tried to lead.

I think there's a little Moses in all of us. How many times have we been called to lead, and at first refused the call?

I have no skills, we argue. I'm afraid of public speaking.Finally, we protest: I have nothing of interest to say.

Often new parents are terrified of the responsibility of raising children, of keeping them safe. They question in a real way whether or not they are good enough, or ready to be parents.

In a similar way, when we accept a new job, receive a promotion, or even begin new training, we're certain that others can see our discomfort and fear - that they'll know we feel like imposters, not equal to the challenges we've been set.

Never mind an entire nation of people - how often do we question whether we have the words to convince one person?

Yet our tradition tells us that each of us has a destiny. God placed within us skills one else has. And each one of us possesses the capacity to rise from the depths of self-doubt to untold heights.

Moses, as do we all, had a bit of the Scarecrow, and the Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion in him. Like them, he felt doubt, insecurity, fear - but all along, he had within him everything he needed to fulfill his unique destiny.

So do we. Each one of us is blessed. And, like Dorothy, home lies within each of us.

Who is your Wicked Witch? Or - more accurately - what is it? Hesitation? Reluctance to confront challenges? Do we shy from leading others, even when it's what we must do in order to be the parents, the grandparents, the people that our loved ones need us to be?

This week, God does not take no for an answer. He instructs Moses to go forward. He appoints Moses' brother Aaron to act as his spokesperson, and together they approach Pharaoh with a display of miracles and a series of threats with, ultimately, consequences that will change history.

We know that, with time, Moses finds his voice. By next September, when the time of Deuteronomy comes round, we know that Moses will speak volumes.

But his voice was there all along - his insight, his empathy, his strength. He just needed a little time to find it.

We're capable of so much more than we think. Within each of us, there is boundless potential. So what are we waiting for?

If we're waiting for a wizard to hand it to us, we will live unfulfilled lives. In the words of Glinda, the Good Witch of the South, "You are capable of more than you know."

So it is for each of us. In this week's Torah reading, Moses, a man of few words, inspires us to ask: What exists within each of us? Why are we reluctant to let it fly?

Or, in the words of Hochberg and Arluck:

"If happy little bluebirds fly

beyond the rainbow....

Why, oh why, can't I?"

Shabbat Shalom. V'kol tuv.

Rabbi Irwin Huberman

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"Dedicated to my dear friend and student Stevie Schwartzberg, October 29, 1982 - December 26, 2017"