Rejection's Value
Rabbi Ron Shulman
Shabbat Bereshit 5772
We begin again our people’s sacred book. This is what Torah is about. Torah is about us, and our lives. It points us to awareness of God as it urges us to find meaning, purpose, and responsibility in life.
The Torah’s story of humanity begins where we live, in the place of instinct and emotion. In their surprise and variety, our moods and passions may be the most complex part of being human. Expressing all that we feel within our hearts and minds reflects our individual characters. It also defines the impact different experiences have on us. Often, we are not in control of our emotions.
The Torah’s first portrayals of human personality reflect this universal truth of human nature. Adam is lonely. As he seeks a companion he represents our social desire to be with others. Eve is curious. Her appetite is our drive to explore and discover. Cain is jealous of his brother Abel. He can’t seem to live in relation to another. Abel’s shorter life span demonstrates gratitude, one of humanity’s finest traits.
As we meet them, Cain is a farmer and Abel a shepherd. According to some scholars, the brothers represent humanity’s two original cultures in tension - one a nomadic existence, the other a settler. Both make necessary contributions to culture and economy. Cain is a “tiller of the soil,” just like his father. Abel raises livestock, “a keeper of sheep,” branching out from the family’s home.
“In the course of time, Cain brought an offering to the Eternal from the fruit of the soil; and Abel for his part, brought the choicest of the firstlings of his flock.” How did they know to worship God? Is prayer also instinctive to our nature? Why do people offer something of themselves, or their possessions, as an expression of caring, thanks, or praise? What validation and sense of place do Cain and Abel’s offerings seek?
Jealousy is one reason, according to the Midrash. Their father Adam sees the rivalry between Cain and Abel and sends them to “pacify their Creator by offering to God from their strivings,” or the burden of their bond. Prayer is the expression of our emotions. It is a release of all that we carry and feel within ourselves, our souls.
From the Torah’s text, however, there arises a deeper question. “The Eternal paid heed to Abel and his offering, but to Cain and his offering God paid no heed. Cain was much distressed and his face fell.” The obvious concern is clear. Why was Cain’s offering rejected?
The deeper question to learn from asks about that rejection. Why is it not okay to be rejected sometimes? We can ask a few more questions. Why does Cain assume that what he offered had to be acceptable to God? Why do any of us assume that something we do, or something we produce, must be accepted by others? Why can’t we be rejected?
Candidates seek our votes. Some of them are rejected in every election. Different choices, colors or flavors are presented to us all of the time. We like some of them. We reject others. Employers interview numerous candidates for a position. Most of them are rejected in favor of the person selected. In Libya, the people forcibly rejected the oppressive, cruel rule of Muammar Qaddafi, just as populations throughout history have done or still strive to accomplish.
The Latin term for our human species, homosapien, has at the root of it’s meaning that we are judicious and discerning. The issue is not that we do accept and reject according to our preferences. What needs to engage us are the criteria, good or bad, by which we make those decisions.
Again, from the Midrash we gain one insight. Abel’s offering reflected his humility. “Who am I that I can draw near to God?” the rabbis imagine him wondering. Perhaps Cain assumed everything he did at every time he did it was worthy of other’s acceptance. The problem with such an attitude is that it’s not true.
We need to be reminded that rejection is a necessary, even a valuable, experience in our lives. Not all of the time, of course. No teenager finds pleasure in being told “no” when asking someone out on a date. Being accepted is crucial to forming our identities and supporting our personal feelings of self worth. Even so, we ought to be mature enough and wise enough to understand the value in rejection.
Over the coming months students will be accepted or rejected by schools or programs they hope to attend. Their applications will be rejected based on statistics, demographics, and very selective, subjective, criteria. True, not everyone is qualified or a good fit for every slot. But, it is never personal. No admissions officer or evaluation committee actually knows the students they evaluate.
Life’s most enduring lessons challenge us. They don’t always make us happy. We learn from them to evaluate what we are doing. If we like what we are presenting, we gain confidence to continue. We look for the right place to offer what we can, to be who we are. How many members of the St. Louis Cardinals or Texas Rangers were released by other teams, only to find themselves playing in the World Series this week?
We do not have to like, agree with, or accept everything that people bring to us. Other individuals are entitled to our respect, not our automatic acquiescence. Think about your own opinions. You can’t agree with everybody, unless you simply don’t care enough to have a view of your own. I agree and disagree with many good friends on this issue or that. I never feel dejected when a friend rejects my point of view. Isn’t it enough that my perspective was considered at all?
I reject the idea that Gilad Shalit should not have been brought home. I rejoice that he is reunited with his family and his people. I understand the difficulty of this trade. I recognize the fear. I respect the emotion of those whose loved ones can’t return home. I also celebrate my people’s values. One life, every life, is precious.
If you need any proof of this, listen to freed terrorist Yehya Sinwar, imprisoned for crimes committed in 1988 when Hamas was only one month old. “The issue of prisoners can only be resolved in this way,” he said. “For the prisoner, capturing an Israeli soldier is the best news in the universe, because he knows that a glimmer of hope has been opened for him.”
Why does he know this? Because the world knows what Israel values, what we all must value. One life, every life, is precious. Israel’s ethos is never to abandon a soldier in the field. For the last five years, through his family’s diligence and sympathetic concern among so many, Gilad Shalit became an icon, a symbol of this value.
Aware of this, I completely reject the attitude of others that no life is precious, that more kidnapping and more murder will improve their destiny. Listen to the words of Hamas prisoner Shuaib Abu Snini who sees no wrong in his terrorist activities. Only “the one who does something wrong can be sorry.”
At the same time, I reject the belief that good, caring people cannot ultimately co-exist in peace, somehow, someday even if not now, not today.
Cain murdered his brother Abel because he didn’t understand the possibilities present in God’s rejection of his offering. We discover from this that not all expressions are equal one to another, even though people are. In our emotion and vulnerability, we can offer to others from our efforts as well as from what may result.
As God asks Cain in the Torah’s story, “Why are you distressed, and why is your face fallen? Surely if you do right there is uplift. But if you do not do right, sin couches at the door.” We always have the opportunity to overcome any setback, to find a better place, and then to find acceptance we desire and deserve.
Rejecting the notion that life is void of meaning, this is what Torah is about. Torah is about us, and our lives. As it points us to awareness of God, Torah urges us to find meaning, purpose, and responsibility in life. Let us accept this sacred task.
© 2011 Rabbi Ronald J. Shulman
