“Yours is Greater Than Theirs”
“It’s so stressful. I just can’t take the pressure anymore.”
“I can’t believe we still can’t afford it. It’s not fair.”
“How on earth are we going to pay for this bar-mitzvah?”
“How are we going to afford camp for the kids this summer?”
“Tuition just doesn’t make sense. How is this supposed to work?”
I am sure these and similar questions sound very familiar. Chances are you’ve either asked them yourselves, or have been around other people who asked them, many times.
More often than not, the “solutions” offered to these problems involve finger-pointing. As a Rabbi, I’ve heard so many people complain about finances and tell me that Rabbis need to do this or that, the camps need to do this or that, or the yeshivot need to do this or that. What people forget is that those who they think should be doing this, that or the other thing are not coming to them for advice.
Let’s face it, we don’t have all that much control over other people. And so I believe, very strongly, that when we talk about financial struggles, we need to focus our attention on the one thing over which we have absolute control, and which is, in truth, the most critical element, and that is, our perspective. We can’t control what Rabbis, schools and camps do and don’t do, but we can control our perspective on our situation.
When Everyone Else is Making a Splash
Parashat Beha’alotecha begins with the mitzvah of kindling the menorah. Each and every day, Aharon was to clean the oil lamps of the menorah in the Mishkan and light the candles anew. Rashi explains that this command is directly linked to the final section of the previous parashah, Parashat Naso, which tells of the special gifts and sacrifices brought by the nesi’im, the leaders of the tribes of Israel. In honor of the inauguration of the Mishkan, each of the nesi’im brought an elaborate series of sacrifices, and each one brought his offerings each day of the celebration. Aharon, Rashi explained, felt dismayed over the fact that he did not participate in this special celebration. Each and every tribe had its special day, when its leader brought lavish gifts and offerings, but Aharon and his tribe, Levi, were left out. Hashem sought to encourage Aharon and lift his spirits by reminding him of the mitzvah of the menorah. He was telling Aharon, in Rashi’s words, שלך גדולה משלהם – “Yours is greater than theirs.” Aharon should not be disturbed by his exclusion from the special offerings of the nesi’im, because he had the privilege of cleaning and kindling the menorah each day.
Already the Ramban raises the question of why Aharon felt disturbed by not participating in the nesi’im’s gifts. He was the kohen gadol, assigned the most prestigious position of all. Why should it bother him that he did not have a special day for bringing offerings like the leaders of the other tribes?
I am sure we have all gone through times when it seems as though everyone is “making a splash,” doing something big and monumental, except us. We look around at the other people in our circles and see one person making a fancy wedding, another one buying a beautiful house, somebody else hosting a lavish bake sale in his gigantic home, and someone donating a Sefer Torah and hosting a huge celebration. We look around at all these people and think, “These people are doing all these things, and then there’s just little old me, struggling to get by, barely covering my bills, just trying to do my thing, preparing dinner, getting the kids set for school, and then waking up in the morning and doing the same.”
This is how Aharon felt. Everyone else was “making a splash,” the other nesi’im were all having their big moment. He felt he was just plain and ordinary, not doing the “big thing.”
Hashem’s response to Aharon is the response we need to give to ourselves whenever we feel “left out,” when we feel small, ordinary, plain, unexciting, and unaccomplished because we aren’t making a splash: שלך גדולה משלהם – “Yours is greater than theirs.” Your simple, day-to-day struggle is greater than the splash and the excitement. This is not to say, Heaven forbid, that there’s anything wrong with making large, festive semahot or making generous philanthropic donations – just as there was nothing at all wrong with the nesi’im’s lavish gifts and offerings. These are all very beautiful. But we need to remember that the simple, day-to-day struggle is something great. Sitting down and working out problems and difficulties, figuring out how to squeeze by with a limited budget – this is something great.
This is not how our society views things. The world does not let us appreciate the everyday struggles.
We are now entering graduation season. Every school holds a graduation, and the greatest honors are given to the valedictorians, the top students who are recognized for their outstanding achievements and receive special plaques. They certainly deserve their awards, and their parents are entitled to every bit of joy and pride that they experience, but they are not the ones that we should get really excited about. I am far more impressed with the parents of the struggling student, who figured out a way to pay for a private tutor, or who somehow got the child to get through a piece of Gemara. The “splash,” the excitement and public accolades, are given to the brilliant student who gets outstanding grades, and his or her parents receive the most emphatic compliments. That is terrific. But I turn to the parents of the below-average students, of the children for whom learning does not come easy or naturally, and I say, שלכם גדולה משלהם – your achievement is far greater. The everyday struggle is far more impressive.
Nobody cheers when a couple sits down for an hour one night to go over their bills, and patiently and wisely finds a way to make all their payments. Standing ovations are given to the wealthy donor who is honored at a dinner, not to the mother who decides to forego on something she wants so she can hire a tutor for her 3rd grader who’s having trouble reading. But I say, שלך גדולה משלהם – that mother’s share is greater.
Why do we feel inadequate when we see others making a “splash”? Because we have trained our minds to believe that struggle is a bad thing, that if we have problems with finances or with our children, then we are failing. Nothing can be further from the truth. And I’m not just saying that to comfort people, to give those who struggle a good feeling. It’s really true. Success means working through problems, struggling to overcome difficult obstacles. This is worth more than the $30,000 aliyah on Yom Kippur. שלך גדולה משלהם.
My Heroes
There are a number of true heroes in our community whom I truly admire and respect. My heroes are not the outstanding Rabbis who deliver brilliant, inspiring lectures, as much as I respect and look up to them. Nor are my heroes the generous donors who support our institutions, as grateful as I am to them and as much as I admire their generosity. Who, then, are my heroes?
My first hero is the person who lives with healthy financial expectations. He is somebody who is happy to have a house for his family, even if the house is much smaller and simpler than other people’s houses. He is somebody who understands that even though many others fly to other countries for vacation every year, he does not “need” to get away, and can find joy and contentment staying in Brooklyn.
My other hero is the person who does what needs to be done with honesty and integrity. The Gemara in Masechet Pesahim comments, עשה שבתך חול ואל תצטרך לבריות – it is preferable to treat Shabbat as a weekday, eating ordinary, simple food, rather than having large, festive meals, than to ask for charity. The second hero I am referring to is the person who honestly recognizes his financial difficulties and has spaghetti and majadra on Friday night while his neighbors are eating roast, chicken and three desserts. This person follows the Gemara’s instruction, doing what he needs to do in light of his situation, rather than pretending the problem doesn’t exist, and rather than adding more stress to himself and his family.
This second hero also follows the instruction given elsewhere in the Gemara (Baba Batra):
נטוש נבילתא בשוקא ושקול אגרא, ולא תימא גברא רבה אנא וזילא בי מילתא.
Spread carcasses in the marketplace for pay, and don’t say: I am a distinguished person, and this is beneath my dignity.
The Gemara here teaches that when necessary, one must be prepared to do any kind of job to earn a living, even jobs that seem demeaning. Based on this Gemara, the Shulhan Aruch (Yoreh Deah 255) writes that even if a person is a distinguished Rabbi, if he needs money, he should perform any kind of work, including work with animal carcasses in the marketplace, to earn some money.
My second hero finds noble ways to manage financially without worrying about what other people might think. When necessary, he makes a simple bar-mitzvah, keeps the kids home from camp for a month, leases a simple car, and takes on some odd jobs on the side to make some extra money. If a person needs to sell his house and move into a smaller residence to balance his budget, then as difficult as it is, this is what he should do. This is noble and heroic. Somebody who does this is my hero – more so than the successful businessman who buys a brand new, enormous house and hosts three bake sales a month, as wonderful as that is. שלך גדולה משלהם.
A Beautiful Frame
My third hero is the greatest hero of all.
Some of the nicest pictures hanging on the walls of our homes aren’t necessarily that beautiful, but they are placed in beautiful frames. Even an unseemly picture can become beautiful when it is framed the right way.
The greatest hero of all is the supportive wife who can “frame” her husband’s day and make every “picture” beautiful. When a husband comes home upset, distraught and anxious after a difficult day at work, there are two ways the wife can react to his problems at the office. One option is to say, “Oh, I guess that means I can forget about that vacation,” or, “So I guess I won’t be getting that piece of jewelry this year.” This is not what the husband needs at this time. He needs somebody who can put even the ugliest picture in the most gorgeous frame. He needs his wife to tell him, “Don’t worry. Look how much we have. It’s all good. Trust me, everything will be fine. We will have a great time even without an overseas vacation. I’m very happy with the jewelry I own. We are already very blessed.” A woman who can do this is truly a hero. The heroic wife is not the one who stands beaming alongside her husband in front of the cameras as he receives an award from the institution to which he made a large donation. The heroic wife is the one who stands beaming alongside her husband when he feels downtrodden and tense, when there are bills to be paid and not enough money coming in to pay them. The true hero is the one who doesn’t go to bed at night exasperated from the family’s problems, but the one who goes to the bed at night joyous and thankful for all the family’s blessings, even as they work to address the problems.
The Talmud famously teaches in Masechet Sotah that our ancestors were redeemed in Egypt in the merit of the nation’s righteous women. The men would return home broken and frustrated after a day of grueling, painful slave labor, and the wives would tenderly care for them, offer encouragement and lift their spirits. This is truly heroic. A righteous wife is one who can provide positive energy during life’s difficult moments, alleviate her hard-working husband’s stress and pressure, and place a beautiful frame around whatever picture their lives happen to be at any given moment. To such righteous women I say, שלכם גדולה משלהם – your portion is the greatest of all.
Let us not allow the “splash” made by the people around us to define for us what success and failure are. Working within one’s circumstances and making the most of every situation is the greatest form of success. Those who succeed in that most critical area of life have the greatest portion of all, and are people whom we should all salute as the most outstanding heroes.