Long ago,[i]
there was a great king. This king
possessed the most beautiful diamond. It
was perfect in every way. The diamond
brought the king great joy and he spent hours gazing at its beauty. One day, tragedy occurred. The diamond fell from the king’s grasp, smashing
upon the marble floor. A deep, long
scratch, now marred its exquisite perfection.
The king was distraught. He sent for his best artisans pleading with them to fix the diamond. Each diamond-cutter looked closely at the gem and shook his head sadly. The scratch was too deep to be repaired.
Finally, one last diamond carver arrived and gazed at the gem from every direction. He told the king that he could create something beautiful out of its flaws.
Within the week, the diamond cutter had returned. The king lifted the gem towards the light and saw that the long scratch still remained. He became furious. “Why do you mock me?” he yelled! “Look closer” said the artisan. Instead of seeing the scratch as a flaw, the artisan saw it as the stem of a rose. Patiently, he carved flowers, roots, and leaves: transforming an ugly imperfection into something unique and truly remarkable.
At the start of these High Holy Days, we too focus on our imperfections. We recognize that we made mistakes; we committed wrongs; we missed the mark. We will spend the next ten days, searching, uncovering, and repairing the regrets that litter our lives. The question is: how will we grapple with our imperfections? The diamond carver recognized that our limitations can’t easily be erased or polished away; imperfections don’t just disappear, they must be transformed into something of lasting value.
Our society more than ever believes in perfection. A politician misspeaks; an athlete takes the wrong shot; a teen idol fails to live up to her image; and we gladly lambast them publicly. Social media, tv advertisements, peer pressure, push us towards the elusive goal of perfection. We want the killer body, the Ivy League education, the high flying job, the gorgeous home, and the perfectly behaved kids. I believe our striving towards perfection is not only unhealthy, but inherently un-Jewish. The Talmud teaches that: “The Torah was not given to the angels.”[ii] God gave the ultimate gift, the treasure of Torah, not to those perfectly behaved Angelic Beings, but to us, human beings, even with all of our frailties and all of our many faults. Judaism does not expect or even ask that we be perfect. Our tradition teaches the reverse: be true to who you are and work to better your life and the lives of those who surround you.
Nothing better illustrates this point, than our understanding of God. When Moses and God meet for the first time, God shares God’s name: “I will be, what I will be.” – The imperfect tense.[iii] Through our personal experience and the stories shared throughout our tradition, we recognize that God is an imperfect being. God is continually changing and adapting, never reaching a state of perfection. We sometimes are challenged or even angered at God’s limitations, but are reminded that God makes mistakes, just like the rest of us. If God is not perfect and the Torah was given even with all of our limitations, why must we continually strive for perfection? Why must we push our children to achieve unreasonable expectations?
Many of you might not know this… but I guess there is no better time than this, to come out of the closet, and admit that… “I am… a perfectionist.” Yes, I always make sure that everything is done “the right way, at the right time.” Being a perfectionist served me well as a teenager, throughout grad school, and especially as a rabbi, but something changed since the birth of my son. I’ve come to learn some incredibly important lessons. As a parent, there is no such thing as perfection. Caleb is smack dab in the middle of the terrible twos with potty training to boot. I’ve come to the hard realization that I’m not a perfect parent. Like many others in this room: “I’ve lost my cool, said things I shouldn’t have, acted rashly, and didn’t do my best.”
I’ve also come to the realization that although Caleb is incredible in every way and I kvell with joy when I speak about him, I don’t want him to be perfect either. He will make mistakes; will do things his way, at his time; and will have his own limitations. This year, as we will reflect upon teshuvah – working to better our own lives – I personally am wrestling with perfection. It’s difficult to step back and affirm our flaws. It’s challenging to accept the imperfections of loved ones. But, it’s these imperfections that can transform our lives into something of lasting value.
Don’t get me wrong: I firmly believe that doing our best and working hard are truly admirable traits. My concern is when our end goal is always perfection. There is a danger when we expect perfection for ourselves and our loved ones. Sometimes, we will use any means to get there: harming our bodies; working far too hard; cheating; finding the easy answer that might not be the “right” answer. Striving for perfection can be a sign of low self-esteem or of an inability to believe in ourselves. We lose our identity: that understanding of who we are and what we believe when we travel down the path that others assume for us.
Imperfections are not always bad. It’s our imperfections that allow us to see the flaws in the world and work to fix them. Just look at the story of our most beloved ancestors, Abraham and Sarah. These two stalwarts of the Jewish people were dedicated to our religion, fiercely loyal to our God, and advocates of Social Justice. Why? It was their imperfections that allowed them to see the cracks in the world and work towards the betterment of all. Abraham and Sarah, as we will see tomorrow morning, were sometimes blind to the needs of family members and hurtful to loved ones. As the founders of our ancient faith, we would expect them to be perfect. Yet, even God does not command perfection; God tells Abraham, “walk in my ways and be whole.”[iv]
What a beautiful sentiment. Our goal as Jews is not to reach perfection; our mission is a journey towards wholeness. As the scholar, Susan Handelman explains: “‘Be whole’ does not mean ‘…flawless [or] perfect.’ It means be ‘on the way,’ towards others, towards the future.”[v] Since Abraham and Sarah, we Jews journey forth, not towards perfection, but towards the pursuit of wholeness. A journey towards wholeness in not concerned with every detail of the moment or with every social expectation. Instead, it focuses on the big picture – on the larger goal of bettering our lives.
That means allowing ourselves the freedom to fail. Often, we are scared of failure, terrified that a wrong turn will careen us off the path of life. But, failure makes us stronger. Moses stood before Pharaoh ten times before he could “Let his people go.” Moses wasn’t worried about failing, he wasn’t petrified about how others viewed him; he kept on stumbling, kept on trying, and became stronger from the experience. It’s not only Moses: Albert Einstein failed out of school. “What? A nice Jewish boy didn’t make the honor role?” And Oprah, queen of television, was fired from her first job because she was too emotional. She was “unfit for tv.” By taking risks, recognizing that we aren’t perfect, and are special for who we are, we can achieve our dreams and pursue that path towards wholeness.
We all feel the need to be perfect, but it is our kids who bear the brunt of the pressure. Beginning at an early age, our kids are told to not only achieve their best but to BE the best. Our kids are expected to be the valedictorian, the star athlete, the prom queen, the prom king, and now to tower over everyone else. Our teens continually jump through hoops in a race to nowhere.
Recently you might have seen Frank Bruni’s column from the New York Times on “How to Survive the College Admissions Madness.”[vi] Bruni will be speaking at Temple Sinai later this year. I hope you will join us! He tells the story of Matt Levin a senior from Cold Spring Harbor, who was about to hear from his top schools. His parents Craig and Diana were worried about him and wrote him this letter expressing their thoughts. He could read it whenever he wanted; they just wanted him to know they wrote these words before he learned his fate.
Dear Matt,
On
the night before you receive your first college response, we wanted to let you
know that we could not be any prouder of you than we are today. Whether or not you get accepted does not
determine how proud we are of everything you have accomplished and the
wonderful person you have become. That
will not change based on what admissions officers decide about your
future. We will celebrate with joy
wherever you get accepted… But your
worth as a person, a student and our son is not diminished or influenced in the
least by what these colleges have decided.
We
love you as deep as the ocean, as high as the sky, all the way around the world
and back again – and to wherever you are headed. Mom and Dad
.
Matt
read these words hours after learning that he was rejected from his top three
schools. As mentors, teachers, friends,
and parents, we must remind our kids that we love and support them no matter
which direction life takes them. We are
proud of our kids for who they are and our love will not be diminished.
Long ago, a king possessed a beautiful diamond; a perfect gem that was marred by a deep, long scratch; an imperfection. We are that diamond. Each one of us begins life as a perfect baby, but no matter where our journey takes us, we veer in the wrong direction, make mistakes, and miss the mark. Deep down, we know that we possess flaws and blemishes; that we are imperfect. That faithful artisan recognized, that our imperfections can be transformed into something unique --- something remarkable --- something even beautiful.
During these High Holy Days, we become the artisan, transforming the blemishes that are upon our souls. We open our eyes to the journey ahead and recognize in our hearts, that our goal is not perfection, but a pursuit of wholeness. Let us be willing to fail. Let us revel in our identity. Let us support our loved ones for who they are. Judaism doesn’t expect you to be perfect. It only asks: be true to who you are and work to bring wholeness to our world.
[ii]
Babylonian Talmud, Me’ilah 14b
[iii]
Check out this great article by Yoram Hazony entitled “An Imperfect God” from The New York Times, November 25, 2012, http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/11/25/an-imperfect-god/#more-136650
[iv]
Genesis 17:1
[v]
“Yom Kippur – loving our imperfections,” Sh’ma,
September 1989
[vi]
Frank Bruni, “How to Survive the College Admissions Madness,” March 13, 2015, The New York Times, http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/15/opinion/sunday/frank-bruni-how-to-survive-the-college-admissions-madness.html
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