(The following is my sermon from Shabbat Ki Tissa)
The Cookie Thief by Valerie Cox*
A
woman was waiting
At the
airport one night,
With
several long hours
Before
her flight.
She
hunted for a book
In the
airport shop,
Bought
a bag of cookies
And
found a place to drop.
She
was engrossed in her book,
But happened
to see,
That
the man beside her,
As
bold as could be,
Grabbed
a cookie or two
From
the bag between,
Which
she tried to ignore
To
avoid a scene.
She
read, munched cookies,
And
watched the clock,
As the
gutsy “cookie theif”
Diminished
her stock.
She
was getting more irritated
As the
minutes ticked by,
Thinking,
“If I wasn’t so nice,
I’d
blacken his eye!”
With
each cookie she took,
He
took one too.
When
only one was left,
She
wondered what he’d do.
With a
smile on his face
And a
nervous laugh,
He took
the last cookie
And
broke it in half.
He
offered her half,
And he
ate the other.
She
snatched it from him,
And
thought: “Oh brother!
This
guy has some nerve,
And
he’s also quite rude,
Why,
he didn’t even show
Any
gratitude!”
She
had never known
When
she had been so galled,
And
sighed with relief
When
her flight was called.
She
gathered her belongings
And
headed for the gate,
Refusing
to look at
The
“thieving ingrate.”
She
boarded the plane
And
sank in her seat.
Then
sought her book,
Which
was almost complete.
As she
reached in her baggage,
She
gasped with surprise.
There
was her bag of cookies
In
front of her eyes!
“If
mine are here,”
She
moaned with despair.
“Then
the others were his
And he
tried to share!”
Too
late to apologize,
She
realized with grief,
That
she was the rude one,
The
ingrate. The thief!
Does this story resonate? Maybe we haven’t been a cookie thief, but
perhaps we laid on the car horn those extra three seconds just to make the
point of how wrong that other driver was for cutting us off, only to realize
that they had the green arrow and we actually had the red light? Or maybe it happened when, in a ridiculous
disagreement with a boss, or an employee, or a student or a teacher, or a
child, or parent or a sibling or partner, we just knew we were right and the
other was wrong, so we chose to belittle our counterpart because of how
ridiculous their perspective or opinion was, only to come to see that they, in
fact, were right all along?
And the sad truth is that, just like in the
Cookie Thief, often by the time we realize how wrong we were, it’s too
late. The cookies have already been
eaten, the other driver has driven off, and the person we belittled has walked away.
And so I wonder: what is this tendency that
drives us to perceive of ourselves as right and others wrong, to see ourselves
as blameless victims and the others as purposeful offenders?
Well, let’s take a look at this week’s Torah
portion, to see if it can offer us any insight.
The portion details arguably our ancestors’ worst
moment in the Torah – the sin of the Golden Calf. You know the story: after not seeing Moses
for a long time (he’s been up on Mt Sinai with God getting the remainder of the
commandments), the people determine that they need a visible connection to the Divine
and call upon Aaron to build them a golden sculpture of a calf. Aaron obliges
and in a frenzy, our ancestors bow down and worship what they’ve created. It’s the #1 no-no in the book – idolatry, but
they don’t even realize they’ve done anything wrong until the moment they see
Moses come down the mountain with the stone tablets in his hands. And by the
time they realize just how wrong they are, it’s already too late.
What’s of note in the story, however, is not
what the people do, but rather, what drives God to respond. You see, while our ancestors are busy worshiping their idol, God becomes enraged and plans to wipe the people out. But here’s the interesting part - what offense
does God cite to justify the punishment?
Idolatry, right? Wrong. The text reads: “I see that this is a stiff-necked people. Now, let Me be, that My anger may blaze forth
against them so I will destroy them.”
The Israelites may have committed the crime of idolatry, but for what does
God want to punish them? Not their
sinful act, but for a quality of their character, or in this case, the lack
thereof - their stiff-neckedness – their obstinate nature.
One of the late 19th century
Mussar rabbis (Mussar being the ancient Jewish practice of character
cultivation) Rabbi Natan Tzvi Finkel writes about this seemingly strange
response from God. “From here we see
that a defect in character is even worse than a defect in action – more serious
even than a grave sin like idolatry.”1 According to Finkel, character
flaws are more serious than sinful acts, because they alter who we are at the
deepest level, as the divine image in us is damaged in the process.2 The eating of the
cookies, the long blow on the horn, even the cruelties to other people – those
are just the surface results of a much deeper problem. It’s why the Cookie Thief story’s ending
resonates so deeply. When we get so
caught up in our pride, our own perceived infallibility, our own insecurities, our
own stubbornness, we actually become that which we are so quick to condemn. I
imagine you’ve heard that the characteristics and behaviors we find most
repelling in others are actually insights into those qualities we dislike in
ourselves. It’s why even Maimonides teaches that we don’t
just repent for our deeds – we must repent for our negative character traits as
well. The trick is, fixing faulty
character traits proves a lot harder than apologizing for our bad actions.3
Mussar tradition defines stubbornness as an
inability to alter one’s opinion. But
even stubbornness in and of itself is not a root problem. As it happens, stubbornness is actually a
symptom of an even greater character flaw – a lack of humility.
From a Jewish lens, humility is a tricky
concept that doesn’t just mean being modest.
Rather, humility is the quality that stands between conceit and
self-debasement. As Mussar teacher Rabbi
Alan Morinis puts it: “Humility is not an extreme quality, but rather, a
balanced, moderate, accurate understanding of yourself that you act on in your
life. Arrogance [or stubbornness] has an
insatiable appetite for space. It
claims. It occupies. It sprawls. It suffocates others…The opposite extreme is
self-debasement. Shrinking from
occupying any space whatsoever, it retracts meekly inside itself….[but] whether
we see ourselves as nothing or as everything, we are still pre-occupied with
the self, and both of these traits are, therefore, forms of narcissism. In
Jewish terms, they are two variations on the theme of idolatry.”4 Idolatry isn’t just something we demonstrate
externally with sculpted forms and images.
The idols can actually be inside of us –hubris or meekness in some ways
– idols more dangerous than the golden calf.
Morinis again: “Without humility, either you will be so puffed up with
arrogance that you won’t even see what really needs some work, or you will be
so deflated and lacking in self-esteem that you will despair of being able to
make the changes that are lit up so glaringly in your self-critical mind.”5 Complicated stuff.
But all is not lost. We don’t have to throw up and hands and
declare: Once a cookie thief, always a cookie thief. Rabbi Shai Held points out that just as bad
character can yield bad action and then that bad action can feed back into our
bad character in a vicious cycle, the opposite is true as well: “Good character
is manifest in good behavior, and good behavior in turn helps instill good
character. If you want to train yourself
to be more compassionate, for example, start by doing compassionate things. Compassionate character yields compassionate
behavior, which in turn deepens compassionate character, and so on in a virtuous cycle.”6
I love this idea of a virtuous cycle. It’s the cultivation of virtuous cycles that
leads to teshuvah around the otherwise vicious cycle of character flaw. Morinis challenges us to do the following: “…ask
yourself this: Do you leave enough space in your life for others, or are you
jamming up your world with yourself? Or is there space you ought rightfully to
occupy that you need to stretch to do? Your answers are the measure of your
humility.”7 And if you have work to do on this, start
with an action. Identify an area where
you have space to relinquish or to take up, and try to cultivate something
different. If you tend to dominate
conversations, take a step back and consciously try to listen. If you tend to stay silent, challenge
yourself to speak up and contribute. And
then do it again. And again. These little acts add up over time in a
virtuous cycle to change not only the way we are perceived, but more
importantly, the way we are.
Shabbat Shalom
* Many thanks to Rabbi Jonathan Slater for sharing "The Cookie Thief" with me and my IJS cohort.
1 R.
Natan Zvi Finkel, Or HaTzafun, “Kashyut Oref”,p. 187 – as translated by Rabbi
Shai Held in his Dvar Torah on Ki Tissa 2014
2 R.
Shai Held explores this idea extensively in his Dvar Torah on Ki Tissa 5774
3 Mishneh
Torah (Hilchot Teshuvah 7:3)
4
Morinis, Every Day Holiness. P. 50.
5 Morinis. 46
6 R.
Shai Held, Dvar Torah Ki Tissa
7
Morinis. p. 54.
