Dear Friends,
Humility and ambition are difficult bedmates.
Most of us encounter these feelings or characteristics tugging at us at some point in our lives.
It is very difficult to humbly allow others to advance in professional or personal stature while stepping aside. Similarly, it is difficult to harness one’s desires and focus one’s ambitions while maintaining a measure of equanimity and humility. Sometimes, we are witnessing oil and water.
Such was the case in the episode in this week’s Torah portion. Aaron and his sons are about to be consecrated as the High Priests of Israel, which would devolve as a hereditary position for every generation. Yet, Moses was called upon to anoint his brother and thus to pass the eternal mantel to Aaron and to relinquish that personal aspiration. There would be no hereditary consignment for Moses; his day would conclude with his leadership in the desert.
Our commentators recognized the element of pain associated with this moment for Moses. It had to sink in for him that his brother and his sons were the “heirs” of his own spiritual stature and not his own sons. Even though this was a great honor about to be bestowed on his older brother, Moses surely was saddened by his own forfeiture of that possibility.
In truth, even Moses, whom Torah called the most humble of men as he had repeatedly endeavored to decline the leadership of the Jewish people, had to feel loss associated with this momentous consecration. His humility was jolted by the reality that his ambition was forever undermined.
We are no different. Few of us go through life without having to recognize some limitation and some loss to our aspirations. When I was 10, I dreamt of being President; when I was 11, I was the crossing guard captain in elementary school. I think every child wants to grow up to be the next soccer superstar, or musical idol, or celebrity. Today, when I ask B’nai Mitzvah students, what they want to be “when they grow up,” it is not uncommon to get such replies. And, it is not in jest. A 13-year-old who is a good athlete dreams of winning the World Series. But he may not even make it to the freshman team in high school. So, too, the 13-year-old gymnast. Dashing of hopes, mixing ambition with humility, and doing so graciously, is the emblematic behavior of adulthood. I tell these students that maturity is not “getting what one wants” but “learning to want what one gets.”
Moses demonstrated this with his own graciousness three millennia ago. We still learn it year after year.
Hoping you enjoyed a meaningful Passover!
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Douglas Kohn
Humility and ambition are difficult bedmates.
Most of us encounter these feelings or characteristics tugging at us at some point in our lives.
It is very difficult to humbly allow others to advance in professional or personal stature while stepping aside. Similarly, it is difficult to harness one’s desires and focus one’s ambitions while maintaining a measure of equanimity and humility. Sometimes, we are witnessing oil and water.
Such was the case in the episode in this week’s Torah portion. Aaron and his sons are about to be consecrated as the High Priests of Israel, which would devolve as a hereditary position for every generation. Yet, Moses was called upon to anoint his brother and thus to pass the eternal mantel to Aaron and to relinquish that personal aspiration. There would be no hereditary consignment for Moses; his day would conclude with his leadership in the desert.
Our commentators recognized the element of pain associated with this moment for Moses. It had to sink in for him that his brother and his sons were the “heirs” of his own spiritual stature and not his own sons. Even though this was a great honor about to be bestowed on his older brother, Moses surely was saddened by his own forfeiture of that possibility.
In truth, even Moses, whom Torah called the most humble of men as he had repeatedly endeavored to decline the leadership of the Jewish people, had to feel loss associated with this momentous consecration. His humility was jolted by the reality that his ambition was forever undermined.
We are no different. Few of us go through life without having to recognize some limitation and some loss to our aspirations. When I was 10, I dreamt of being President; when I was 11, I was the crossing guard captain in elementary school. I think every child wants to grow up to be the next soccer superstar, or musical idol, or celebrity. Today, when I ask B’nai Mitzvah students, what they want to be “when they grow up,” it is not uncommon to get such replies. And, it is not in jest. A 13-year-old who is a good athlete dreams of winning the World Series. But he may not even make it to the freshman team in high school. So, too, the 13-year-old gymnast. Dashing of hopes, mixing ambition with humility, and doing so graciously, is the emblematic behavior of adulthood. I tell these students that maturity is not “getting what one wants” but “learning to want what one gets.”
Moses demonstrated this with his own graciousness three millennia ago. We still learn it year after year.
Hoping you enjoyed a meaningful Passover!
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Douglas Kohn
