Planned Living
Rabbi Ron Shulman
Shabbat Vayigash 5771
I’m a planner. I consider how to use my time, how to get things done, and where to be when. But as much as I might plan, I know that it is a very rare day when what I plan and what happens are the same thing. I know I’m not alone in this. I hear it from folks all of the time. That’s the joy of every new day. It surprises us!
Who will we meet? What will they tell us? What will happen? Who will win? What will go wrong? What will be just as we hoped? Who of us experiencing illness or infirmity saw it coming? Who of us touched by love anticipated the sweetness we feel or the caring we know? Who of us hurt by love were ready for its pain? How many of us are involved now in activities we would never have predicted a few years ago? How many times have we been caught off guard by great beauty, by genuine compassion, or by true viciousness?
Everyday is a surprise. Everyday is a challenge. Everyday is complicated. Everyday is a gift. Every new day is a chance to begin again. To apologize for what went wrong, to anticipate what will be right. Each day can be meaningful in its unique way. This is what it means to be alive. Each precious day comes to us only once, and then it is gone.
A person who lives only in the past loses their life today. But, a person who lives only planning for the future also misses out on life today. I understand this about myself. Planning is a way to establish some control. Yet, to think that in planning our routines and organizing our activities we control our time is at best only partially true and largely an illusion.
This is one of the reasons I find Shabbat so important. I need a day for which I planned, but during which I have no focus on what is supposed to happen, and instead enjoy the present moment I am in and the people with whom I am sharing it. Shabbat teaches, right now we need to live.
I was struck this week by the passing of Elizabeth Edwards. The last and most difficult years of her life are an example of the gap between our plans and our actual lives. In response to a critic of her choices she said, “With all due respect, what you would choose to do is relevant only once: when you choose how to spend your remaining days. I made my choice; because of our lives it was a public choice, but the choice doesn't belong to the public, it belongs to me.”
She spoke a powerful truth. There is within each of us a tremendous capacity to cope, even more so, to respond. Life’s meaning is not defined by what happens to us. Life’s meaning is defined by how we respond to what happens to us, by the choices we make and the way we make them.
Let’s look at Joseph’s story. The moment has come to reveal his true identity to his brothers who stand before Egypt’s viceroy cowering and nervous. They have been accused of theft and spying. They want to rescue their youngest brother Benjamin from prison.
Joseph is overcome with emotion. He demands, “Have everyone withdraw from me! So there was no one else about when Joseph made himself known to his brothers.”
It’s hard to imagine their shock. There’s no way they could have planned for this eventuality. Joseph realizes they are afraid, so he tells his shocked brothers what he believes. “So, it was not you who sent me here, but God.”
Joseph reveals his faith. God is present in what has happened to him. Joseph believes that God designed his destiny. Notice what has occurred. Joseph is able to look back on the events of his life and incorporate them into a narrative that explains who he is and why plays the role he does.
When the young boy Joseph was sold into slavery, and as he grew through his experiences in Egypt, he did not know why this was. Now, as he finds within himself the strength to reveal himself, he also understands himself. This moment defines Joseph’s life. He brings together all that has happened to him.
According to psychiatrist Erik Erikson, it is only after we sort through the various events and identifications of lives that our true identities and characters emerge. This is what Joseph is able to do. This is what we all seek to do.
Joseph’s brothers had planned to kill him, They sold him instead, and now he tells them, it was God’s design from the very beginning. Joseph sees meaning in what has happened to him. He helps his brothers to do the same. Ask yourself, could you be so forgiving? Could you be so insightful about your life?
Just a couple of days ago, Elizabeth Edwards posted her last message on Facebook. She wrote, “You all know that I have been sustained throughout my life by three saving graces – my family, my friends, and a faith in the power of resilience and hope. These graces have carried me through difficult times and they have brought more joy to the good times than I ever could have imagined. The days of our lives, for all of us, are numbered. We know that. And, yes, there are certainly times when we aren't able to muster as much strength and patience as we would like. It's called being human. But I have found that in the simple act of living with hope, and in the daily effort to have a positive impact in the world, the days I do have are made all the more meaningful and precious. And for that I am grateful.”
This Shabbat’s lesson of Torah and life is simple and important. We may each think we can plan and know the course our lives will take. But we can’t. All we can know for sure is what we do today, and did before. Everything else is a surprise. Every new day is a gift.
Recognize that within you is a tremendous capacity to cope and to respond. Life’s meaning is not defined by what happens to us. Life’s meaning is defined by how we respond to what happens to us.
We cannot plan what will happen. We cannot plan the meaning in what happens. All we can do, the most we can do, and the best we can do, is to live it.
© 2010 Rabbi Ronald J. Shulman
