The Courage to Hope
Rabbi Ron Shulman
Shabbat Ki Tisa 5771
“Hope is the better half of courage,” observed the French writer Honore’ de Balzac.
I remembered this quote sometime during the past few weeks while watching the events in Egypt and the Middle East. Watching history unfold is fascinating. We feel many things: exhilaration and anticipation, consternation, and even fear. Our curiosity is laced with sympathy and concern.
For many of us, the revolution in Egypt presents a real quandary. I’ve heard this repeated again and again. We ask each other, what will a different Egyptian government mean for Israel, and for the cold peace and stability between Israel and Egypt in a region so hostile to Israel?
We want to see tyranny defeated. But, either as an expression of the Egyptian people’s right to self-rule or by political force, we don’t want something to emerge that threatens Israeli security or American interests in the region. After all, the only previous model for freedom in Egypt was to leave it.
“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but desire realized is a tree of life,” declares the Biblical Proverbs. It’s an excellent description of our reaction. We wish we could be more hopeful than we are. At least, that’s how some of us feel.
Jewish journalist Rob Eshman describes our dilemma. “The last two weeks have been a shining moment for the Egyptian people. For us Jews, not so much. In the fight for freedom they have been bold, we have been cautious. They have acted without fear; we have withheld our applause. They have sacrificed; we have remained suspicious. They have stood before tank turrets and raised the Egyptian flag. We have logged into chat rooms and raised red flags.”
“Hope is the better half of courage.” We need to find that courage, and that better vision.
I’m thinking not only about the world, however. I’m thinking also about each of us and our lives. History happens both on the larger stage of world events and in the private places of our homes, relationships, and experiences. The world is changed by great political movements. It is also changed by individual stamina, personal compassion, and the help we give to each other.
At least once each week I hear myself reminding someone that within them is an incredible resilience, a gift from God for our lives. We can cope. We can respond. We will smile again.
We worry about so many things. We learn of an illness, but we’re not sure of the prognosis. We’re given an assignment, but we cannot see how it will get done on top of everything else we have to do. We’re upset about someone else, but we don’t know how to correct what another person said or what they think. We have an idea, a dream, a desire, a goal, but turning it into reality seems so daunting. There’s always a stubborn obstacle in our path.
How many times have we been told all of the reasons why something can’t be done? How often are we the ones making the list? It happens to everyone.
Moses told God he couldn’t go before the Pharaoh. “Lo ish devarim anokhi - I am not a man of words.” I always hear my father’s voice in situations like that. “Don’t tell me why it can’t be done,” he used to say. “Tell me how you’re going to do it.” God and Moses found a way. Moses’ brother Aaron did the speaking.
In Midrash on this morning’s Torah portion we learn another example. God commanded Israel to take a census by collecting a poll tax from every person, “as a ransom for his soul.”
“Moses bluntly replied to the Holy One: ‘Master of the Universe, who can possibly afford the value of his or her soul?’ ‘It is not what you think,’ God answered. ‘It is only half a shekel they are each to contribute.’”
It’s a good bit of Divine wisdom. It may not be what we think at first. It may be something much better. Something we can do. Like Moses learned to do, let’s change our instincts. As often as possible, let’s try to be cautiously optimistic rather than overly pessimistic. “Hope is the better half of courage.”
The Arab street is rising up demanding freedom and our first instinct was fear. I’m still concerned about Israel’s security and well being in the midst of an unstable and unfriendly Middle East. But I’m also trying to imagine what that region might be like with another democracy or two bringing dignity and freedom to citizens in Egypt, or Bahrain, or even Libya. Is it possible that there will be freedom in Egypt not by leaving, but by remaining and rebuilding?
Maybe it will come to be, and maybe it won’t. Like so much in our lives, we have no control over the outcome. But we do control how we look out into the world, and what we see inside ourselves.
In each situation, global or personal, we’ll respond to whatever happens. In the end, however, it is better to live encouraged by our hopes rather than discouraged by our doubts.
In the world of the Middle East, hoping for dignity and democracy, and in the world of our lives and relationships, hoping for goodness and fulfillment, let’s adopt a simple planning strategy. “Expect the best, plan for the worst, and prepare to be surprised!”
“Hope is the better half of courage.”
© 2011 Rabbi Ronald J. Shulman
