Today I am celebrating my Hebrew birthday, although my legal birthday is later this month, which means it also marks thirty years since my Bar Mitzvah. A lot has changed since then in my life, including the fact that I am older, and thank G-d, married, have a beautiful family and I am a part of a lovely community, but one other thing that changed is my fear of public speaking.
In the weeks that preceded my Bar Mitzvah, I was terrified at the thought of having to stand up on the Bimah in my large synagogue to read the Haftorah. At night I could not sleep as I had stomach pains from worry, and I even had to go and see a doctor who helped me deal with the pains which were a result of my stress. On the morning of my Haftorah, I gradually turned more and more pale as the dreaded yet meaningful moment approached. My mother who was watching me with pride and also concern, was nervous that I was going to faint. My legs trembled as I was called up to the Bimah and all eyes in the massive synagogue turned to me, and I was just hoping this would be over quickly.
Yet lo and behold, I survived the ordeal.
I did my Aliya and read the Haftorah, even as the children next to the Bimah tickled my feet as they waited for me to finish the Haftorah and congratulate me with a Mazal Tov. The relief I felt when I finished I can still feel, and I can still remember all the smiles and warm handshakes as I waded my way back to our table and seat.
To this day, I can put myself back in that moment as I wavered between feeling like I was perhaps going to disappear or somehow survive, and I can still see the faces of those who stood there on the Bimah during that moment looking on as I did my Aliya and read the Hafotorah.
In the years that followed, I continued to be afraid of public speaking and tried hard to get out of every situation where I might have to be in the public limelight and even worse to have to speak. Yet one day, when I was about nineteen years old and studying in Yeshiva in Montreal, I attended a Chassidic gathering called a Farbrengen, at which the Chassidic mentor of the Yeshiva began to publicly pressure me to go to speak publicly at other synagogues each Shabbat afternoon to share some of the teachings that we had studied that week. I tried pushing back, and explained that I am shy and it is so hard for me and I am terrified of public speaking, but he kept the pressure on and reminded me, that it is not about me and my ego, but rather it is about my responsibility in sharing something meaningful and inspiring with people who would love to hear something new each Shabbat and who look forward to being able to hear from a Rabbinical student sharing something new.
It took time and I continued pushing back, but I finally relented and agreed to go and speak in another synagogue each week. Over the next few months, I slowly began to speak publicly at various synagogues each week as I shared what I hoped were meaningful and inspiring teachings and ideas, and slowly I became more comfortable and more relaxed in public speaking.
These days, it is something that I have to do several times a week and I am much more relaxed and comfortable, although even today, new crowds, new venues or a big crowd can still get me fazed.
On the topic of confidence or lack of it, we find a striking message in this week’s portion of Shelach.
“We appeared like grasshoppers in our eyes and so were we in their eyes”, are the famous words echoed by the spies that Moses sent to Israel. The spies famously failed in their mission and in their ensuing monologue against moving into the land of Israel, they caused a great despair among the Jewish people, which resulted in G-d delaying their entry into the land by forty years.
The verse regarding appearing like grasshoppers was said in context of how they viewed themselves compared to the strong and mighty warriors who lived in Canaan at the time. The commentaries all explain, that the wording is extremely telling, in that the insecurity and lack of confidence in themselves led to their perceiving of themselves as meek and simply like grasshoppers compared to these warriors. This then also caused their opponents to also look at the spies and define them with the same meek and timid lens.
In describing the story in this manner, the verse is teaching us a critical piece of information about the sin of the spies, and that is it began with not believing in themselves and in their sense of mission on behalf of the people which had been promised this land by G-d. This led to an even further weakening of their own resolve and it caused their enemies to look down at them and look at them as meek.
In life, we all have our missions and challenges which in a sense are a part of our destiny and Divine given mission. Some are personal and some are public and communal. Some situations and challenges are about our individual roles as parents, spouses, teachers or whatever other role we find ourselves in, and some are broader and relate to our communal work or advocacy.
One idea which we learn from this story, is the need to believe in succeeding in the mission you have been entrusted with. In other words if we believe that G-d put us in this role, situation or challenge, it must be that we also have been entrusted with the ability and power to succeed. Our job is to focus and think on how to make that happen, and do it with the knowledge that we can and will succeed. It is this attitude which breeds positivity, confidence and and a much greater chance for actual success in our mission.
Yet when we don’t believe in ourselves and doubt our mission, it will cause us to become shaky and unsure, which will most likely make it hard for us to be positive, have confidence and to be able to succeed.
Likewise when dealing with adversity, others often read us in how we view ourselves. Our hopeless attitudes or our confident attitudes often make all the difference to how others perceive us and can help shape the future one way or another in a very tangible way.
A tangible example would be the spate of recent antisemitic incidents which have occurred in this country, including in Massachusetts. We can hide our identity, take off our Yarmulkahs, not use Jewish names and take down our Mezuzah and look at ourselves as little grasshoppers among a giant sea of humanity. Yet in truth this won’t help and instead this will only breed more fear, negativity and will add fuel to those who don’t like us.
Or alternatively we can believe in our mission and purpose and go forward with pride, joy and positivity, especially given that the overwhelming part of the population don’t believe in antisemitism, and knowing that if we are here in this situation it also means we have the ability to succeed and make it even better. Acting in this way and going forward with this attitude will breed respect, positivity and yes success at doing what we need to do in life with our heads held high.
So yes tomorrow, I will once again read the Haftorah of my Bar Mitzvah, a little more confident about doing it in public than I was thirty years ago, and as I do so, I will think of the storyline itself, which is when spies sent forty years later by Joshua learned from the past and did it with a sense of purpose, confidence and belief in their mission, and this time they succeeded.
Good Shabbos & Shabbat Shalom
Yisroel