26/06/2016
How I Conquered My Fears in a Sprinkler Park in Israel:
Father: Quick! Come over here! The big splash is about to happen!
Daughter: Ok, but I want to stand over here so I don’t get splashed too hard.
Father: Don’t be afraid! Stand right in the middle! It will be fun! Just don’t be afraid!
This is the conversation I overheard on Friday while at a nearby sprinkler park with my kids. Children looking to push the limits of their physical abilities and their threshold for fear and pain, and parents seemingly pushing them even further. It largely goes against my American upbringing, where parents are advised to purchase more protective car seats for their children every three years because my current car seat’s ability to protect my child has somehow expired by then. So telling my kid to run TOWARDS the giant gushing waterfall in the park will take some getting used to for me [and by the way, I didn’t need to tell my kid... he was doing it already. That’s him pictured in the yellow shirt :)].
Don’t get me wrong - Israeli parents are as protective as they come - they even try and protect my kids instead of me sometimes [Does “It’s cold, your baby should really be wearing socks!” ring a bell?]. And yet, I can’t help but feel that this conversation between father and daughter is the same conversation I’ve heard over and over again between parents and children wherever I go in Israel. “Speak up!”, “Don’t let someone else go in front of you!”, “Fight back!” - these are the life lessons being delivered to the next generation of Israeli youth.
And that’s the way it should be.
As a rabbi and a clinical therapist, and also as a human being, I am the first to say that being a kind-hearted, caring, and sensitive person is of the utmost importance. But from what I can see, being bold and assertive does not contradict any of that - and in some cases, it even promotes it [Does “It’s cold, your baby should really be wearing socks” ring a bell?]. Facing fears instead of escaping them is a necessary tool in navigating through life. In the world of mental health, different methods of therapy [narrative therapy behavioral therapy as examples] offer someone the opportunity to confront a personal issue openly and safely instead of retreating from it out of fear or shame. In the world of halachik observance, volumes upon volumes of titles have been published filled with discussions and discourses on how to properly adhere to the Torah laws as they relate to a given situation. It would be much easier to avoid these complexities altogether and conclude to take the most stringent or the most lenient approach - but struggling with and confronting the essence of the issue and arriving at the most accurate conclusion is what the halachik process is all about. Just consider how important the role of the “machlokes”, or rabbinic argument, is when arriving at a halachik conclusion and you will know why Israel takes fight over flight almost every time.
In Tehilim (Psalms) we are told “do not fear evil for You (God) are with me”. Fear, in this context, is the negative consequence of failing to see God in one’s life. But it can run even deeper than that.
In this past week’s Parsha (Torah portion), we read of the story of the spies, sent into Israel to investigate its contents before entering the land. And in what seemed like a self-fulfilling prophecy, the spies return with a negative report that there is no hope of settling this land, because the inhabiting nations are too strong, the walls are too high, and the land eats its inhabitants.
But what was it they were afraid of? Had they actually lost faith in God’s ability to defeat their enemies? Did they really think this entire divinely ordained plan was to culminate in a crushing military defeat?
The truth is, they weren’t even thinking about all that. They don’t mention God’s presence even once in their analysis of the situation. Because, in truth, they didn’t believe in themselves. They weren’t worthy in their own eyes of carrying out this mission to the end. They weren’t necessarily afraid of the enemies that awaited them, or whether the land was good or bad. They were afraid that they were not fit to assume the role of the chosen people in the promised land. If they didn’t even believe in themselves, they couldn’t have possibly been considering God or anyone else at that time.
Some, like the Lubavitcher Rebbe, explain that they were afraid of their own success - of the burden of running an entire country on their own upon conquering the land. Others, like the Shem Mishmuel and other Hasidic masters, explain that they were afraid of their own shortcomings - that they did not merit the kindness they had received until now and would surely fail sooner or later. But either perspective leads to the same shocking destination - they feared themselves. And God realized that with this kind of fear, these people could not enter this land.
Even as far back as the very beginning of the relationship between the Jewish people and the land of Israel, it was established that to live in Israel, you must get rid of your fears. You must not be afraid to express your own beliefs and values. You must not be afraid to exist every single day surrounded by your worst enemies. And you must not be afraid to love your fellow Jews with such unyielding passion, that occasionally you can’t help but bother them about their baby’s socks.
As I too enter a new beginning, I hope to heed carefully the life lesson of that caring father in the sprinkler park the other day - “Don’t be afraid! Stand right in the middle, where all the water comes falling down on you! That’s where it’s the most fun!”
Time to have some fun.
