Parshas Behaalotecha -- 16 Sivan, 5773 / May 25, 2013 -- Vol. 4 Issue 7
Imagine the following. A close friend of yours whom you have known all your life works in the office with you. You work on many projects together, rely on each other, and support one another. Then one day, you over hear your good buddy speaking to a colleague of yours. This is what you hear: "You know Chaim, I am so tired of Baruch. What does he think he has that makes him so much better than me? You know we went to school together, we have worked on countless projects together, and we pitched the Silverstein deal together as well. And another thing, people don't realize but I have actually been holding our team together. If it wasn't for me, Baruch would have been let go a loooooong time ago!"
Before you even have time to consider what you just witnessed, your boss walks in the room and having overheard the entire conversation tells Dovid that he should pack up his stuff because he is being moved from his nice cozy corner office to the smallest cubicle on the first floor. In fact, he is to take the next week off unpaid to think about what he said and whether he really wants to be a part of this team!
What would you say? What would you be thinking? Most importantly, would you do anything? Many of us would think that Dovid was getting what he deserved. Not only that, we would question whether we wanted to continue our relationship with someone who so carelessly tossed our feelings to the wind. Though that may be a natural reaction, it would be a very narrow one.
In this week's parsha, Behaalotecha, Miriam speaks badly of Moshe Rabbainu, and when Hashem finds out He punishes her. What does Moshe do? He pleads with Hashem not only to forgive her, but to heal her of her tzaras right away. How was Moshe able to be so humble as to forgo his own ego? Because he saw the best in everyone. He knew that if Miriam had said something, that from her perspective she must have thought she was doing the right thing. And so it was, Miriam's intentions were noble, but her assessment of the situation was incorrect.
Before jumping to conclusions, remember to consider that there are always two sides to every story. And see the best, even when you are certain you have heard the worst!
Before you even have time to consider what you just witnessed, your boss walks in the room and having overheard the entire conversation tells Dovid that he should pack up his stuff because he is being moved from his nice cozy corner office to the smallest cubicle on the first floor. In fact, he is to take the next week off unpaid to think about what he said and whether he really wants to be a part of this team!
What would you say? What would you be thinking? Most importantly, would you do anything? Many of us would think that Dovid was getting what he deserved. Not only that, we would question whether we wanted to continue our relationship with someone who so carelessly tossed our feelings to the wind. Though that may be a natural reaction, it would be a very narrow one.
In this week's parsha, Behaalotecha, Miriam speaks badly of Moshe Rabbainu, and when Hashem finds out He punishes her. What does Moshe do? He pleads with Hashem not only to forgive her, but to heal her of her tzaras right away. How was Moshe able to be so humble as to forgo his own ego? Because he saw the best in everyone. He knew that if Miriam had said something, that from her perspective she must have thought she was doing the right thing. And so it was, Miriam's intentions were noble, but her assessment of the situation was incorrect.
Before jumping to conclusions, remember to consider that there are always two sides to every story. And see the best, even when you are certain you have heard the worst!
Game Over, Please Try Again (Parshas Behaalotecha)
As a child growing up in the 1980s, one of the biggest technological advances of the time was the advent of the Nintendo Entertainment System. There was such hype to buy this new home-based arcade came system and everyone and anyone had to have one. Not being very computer savvy at the time, nor very interested in arcade games, I didn't feel the need to rush out and buy one.
But after several months, I did receive a Nintendo from my Aunt and Uncle as a birthday gift. I remember unwrapping the big box and being really impressed by the futuristic controllers, the multi-colour wires, and the game console itself. It even came with two free games, the classical favourite Super Mario Brothers, and the ridiculously monotonous ever boring Duck Hunt. I'm not going to lie, I was excited. My friends had talked about different codes you could use to get extra lives, how realistic the graphics were (I know, right), and the anticipation of saving the Princess from the evil Bowser was calling my name. So I unwrapped the game and carefully slipped it into the game system (not before blowing into the game cartridge first though; remember how everyone always did that?).
I started out fair enough breaking bricks here and collecting coins there, earning an extra life after eating a green mushroom, and so on. After a while, though, the levels became increasingly harder and eventually I was out of men. Then an interesting message came up on the screen. It said, "Game Over, Please Try Again." "Hmmmm..." I thought, "you mean that isn't it? I can continue on and try again?" So I played another round, and another and another. Interestingly enough, no matter how many times I lost, the message at the end was always the same: Game Over, Please Try Again. It was factual, yet encouraging, even inviting I might say. It is as if I was being told, "hey you did a really good job. It wasn't good enough this time but why not try again? Come on, you can do it!"
Why the positivity? Why the encouragement? They weren't making any more money from my playing the game over and over again. In fact, they may have been better off by saying, "Game Over. You aren't very good at this game. We suggest you go out and buy a different one, because let's be honest you have already tried this one and lost!" Had Nintendo stumbled on to something here? What could we learn from Mario, Luigi, and the gang?
I can tell you what I learned, besides the oh so important lesson that staring at the television and listening to the Mario Brothers theme song can push you into a dazed trance with blurred vision. I learned that more often than not, life is made up of second chances, if you want it bad enough. Because life isn't about winning; it's about trying. It is not about reaching one's destination, but rather one's journey along the way.
In this week's parsha, Behaalotecha, there is a group of Jewish people who missed out on the opportunity to bring the Pesach offering at the appropriate time because they were in a state of impurity. Utterly broken at the idea of not being able to take part in this mitzvah, they approached Moshe Rabbainu and told him that they too wanted to bring a Pesach offering. Why should they be deprived of this special act? Moshe told them he would speak with Hashem. When Hashem heard how unbelievably intense the people's desire was to present Him with an offering, He was very moved. He therefore established a new institution for all time: Pesach Sheini, a time specifically designated for people to bring a Pesach offering if they had missed out the first time around.
This doesn't mean that every time we ask for a second chance that we are going to receive it. Yet is still our responsibility to keep trying. In fact, there are examples from the Torah in which despite desperate pleading, it just wasn't meant to be. After Moshe Rabbainu hit the rock Hashem told Moshe that he was not going to enter the land of Israel. Moshe begged and pleaded with Hashem, however Hashem told him that alas this time, it was not meant to be.
But does this mean that it isn't worth trying? Absolutely not. You see there are times when we don't succeed at what we set out to accomplish; when we aren't able to achieve what we had hoped. However, when we don't give up and we try again, in many ways we have then already exceeded our own expectations. Completing difficult tasks and overcoming obstacles is a noble feat and one which can bring us much pride and happiness. But even more important than the actual completion is the journey we take while trying to get there. Who we become by trying is far more important than what we may become by completing.
Just as we should never be afraid to fail, we should also never be afraid to try a second time around. It doesn't mean that we will win, but it does mean that we will transform who we are; and in the end that is a win-win. Remember, the emphasis is never on the "Game Over," but rather on the "Please Try Again!"
But after several months, I did receive a Nintendo from my Aunt and Uncle as a birthday gift. I remember unwrapping the big box and being really impressed by the futuristic controllers, the multi-colour wires, and the game console itself. It even came with two free games, the classical favourite Super Mario Brothers, and the ridiculously monotonous ever boring Duck Hunt. I'm not going to lie, I was excited. My friends had talked about different codes you could use to get extra lives, how realistic the graphics were (I know, right), and the anticipation of saving the Princess from the evil Bowser was calling my name. So I unwrapped the game and carefully slipped it into the game system (not before blowing into the game cartridge first though; remember how everyone always did that?).
I started out fair enough breaking bricks here and collecting coins there, earning an extra life after eating a green mushroom, and so on. After a while, though, the levels became increasingly harder and eventually I was out of men. Then an interesting message came up on the screen. It said, "Game Over, Please Try Again." "Hmmmm..." I thought, "you mean that isn't it? I can continue on and try again?" So I played another round, and another and another. Interestingly enough, no matter how many times I lost, the message at the end was always the same: Game Over, Please Try Again. It was factual, yet encouraging, even inviting I might say. It is as if I was being told, "hey you did a really good job. It wasn't good enough this time but why not try again? Come on, you can do it!"
Why the positivity? Why the encouragement? They weren't making any more money from my playing the game over and over again. In fact, they may have been better off by saying, "Game Over. You aren't very good at this game. We suggest you go out and buy a different one, because let's be honest you have already tried this one and lost!" Had Nintendo stumbled on to something here? What could we learn from Mario, Luigi, and the gang?
I can tell you what I learned, besides the oh so important lesson that staring at the television and listening to the Mario Brothers theme song can push you into a dazed trance with blurred vision. I learned that more often than not, life is made up of second chances, if you want it bad enough. Because life isn't about winning; it's about trying. It is not about reaching one's destination, but rather one's journey along the way.
In this week's parsha, Behaalotecha, there is a group of Jewish people who missed out on the opportunity to bring the Pesach offering at the appropriate time because they were in a state of impurity. Utterly broken at the idea of not being able to take part in this mitzvah, they approached Moshe Rabbainu and told him that they too wanted to bring a Pesach offering. Why should they be deprived of this special act? Moshe told them he would speak with Hashem. When Hashem heard how unbelievably intense the people's desire was to present Him with an offering, He was very moved. He therefore established a new institution for all time: Pesach Sheini, a time specifically designated for people to bring a Pesach offering if they had missed out the first time around.
This doesn't mean that every time we ask for a second chance that we are going to receive it. Yet is still our responsibility to keep trying. In fact, there are examples from the Torah in which despite desperate pleading, it just wasn't meant to be. After Moshe Rabbainu hit the rock Hashem told Moshe that he was not going to enter the land of Israel. Moshe begged and pleaded with Hashem, however Hashem told him that alas this time, it was not meant to be.
But does this mean that it isn't worth trying? Absolutely not. You see there are times when we don't succeed at what we set out to accomplish; when we aren't able to achieve what we had hoped. However, when we don't give up and we try again, in many ways we have then already exceeded our own expectations. Completing difficult tasks and overcoming obstacles is a noble feat and one which can bring us much pride and happiness. But even more important than the actual completion is the journey we take while trying to get there. Who we become by trying is far more important than what we may become by completing.
Just as we should never be afraid to fail, we should also never be afraid to try a second time around. It doesn't mean that we will win, but it does mean that we will transform who we are; and in the end that is a win-win. Remember, the emphasis is never on the "Game Over," but rather on the "Please Try Again!"