Last week, I took a trip which led to my being momentarily airborne and resulted in a crash-landing on the tarmac a few feet north of our driveway. Gd bless gravity!
If you’ve
ever taken a tumble (in my case, this was because of uneven paving), you’ll
know the drill.
The first
thing that happens is that you trip. Then
you try your best to retain your balance in the vain (and frankly comical) hope
that you’ll stop yourself falling. As
you realise that you’re not going to ‘make it’, a terror, like nothing else
you’ve experienced, hits you and, in a split second, you try to position your
body in a way that will minimise the damage you know you’re going to cause
yourself - unless you’re Tom Cruise in Paris.
In my case, I managed to angle my shoulders so as I landed, I put my
hand out and somehow managed to roll over, ‘stunt-man’ style so that I
completed a 360° turn (it might have been two).
Had the result not been so painful, I might have marvelled at my prowess. I was almost starring in my very own action
movie. The problem was that the palm of
my left hand was blistered and my elbows and knees really hurt.
Sefer
Mishlei, the Book of Proverbs teaches us (16.18) ‘Before collapse comes
pride! Before failure, haughtiness of
spirit’ or in English parlance ‘Pride comes before a fall’.
I don’t
know how proud I was feeling as I deposited an item in the bin by the green in
front of our house and then attempted to fly across the road, but I can tell
you that my spirit felt anything but haughty as I lay effigy-like in front of
number 23.
Angry for
being so careless, I picked myself up and hobbled back to the house, battered,
bruised and at the same time grateful that I hadn’t inflicted more damage on
myself.
In
reflecting the episode, it occurred to me how the fear of what was going to
happen to me was much worse that the result of the impact. It was as though the loss of control bothered
me the most.
In 1843,
Charles Dickens introduced the noun ‘moral compass’ into the English language
according to the Oxford English Dictionary.
https://www.oed.com/dictionary/moral-compass_n?tl=true
Google
defines a moral compass as:
‘a set of beliefs about what is right and wrong that
guides one's actions. A moral compass
can help one make decisions in daily life, but it can also help one find
meaning and purpose in life. An
individual's moral compass is the foundation for ethical decision-making.’
There’s
nothing in this definition which refers to losing one’s physical compass. I had intended to walk southwards to my house
but instead, I ended up in a north-easterly heap!
However,
if we look at the events which took place, from my feeling secure in an upright
position to losing my balance to changing the direction I was planning to move
in, I believe that my fall could be a metaphor for losing my balance in more
than just a physical manner.
This
week’s Parasha of Va’etchanan, we recite the Ten Commandments or Aseret
Hadibrot (version 2.0) This provides a
template for societies that are underpinned by values such as worshipping a
single Gd (‘don’t create idols); recognising the need for a day of rest in the
working week (‘Shabbat’); honouring parents, sanctifying life (‘do not murder’)
and ensuring that there is an equitable justice system (‘do not bear false
witness’).
The
Aseret Hadibrot teach us the importance of having moral clarity in everything
that we say and do. Or alternatively,
giving us a moral compass by which to lead our lives.
When this
is absent, we find ourselves rootless, flying in the air as it were, afraid of
what will happen when we hit the ground.
The last
year has demonstrated what can happen when law and order is ignored and values
are cast by the wayside.
From the
‘hate marches’ on our streets, to the antisemitic campaigns across American and
British University campuses, the rule of law has been severely compromised. Where people openly deny the horrific events
of 7th October and the College Presidents of three of America’s
leading universities evade questions regarding whether they would discipline
students who had been calling for a genocide against their fellow Jewish peers.
We have witnessed riots which have resulted in mosques being torched and people like you and me being frightened to go out in public for fear of being attacked. Does this not feel as though we are all caught in that moment where we have tripped and don’t know what will happen to us when we land? Frozen in the air.
Where societies’ moral compass is so hidden that people no longer know which direction they should be facing. Where an Olympic boxer nearly died because she’d never been hit so hard before by a contender who should have been fighting in a different ring against a very different opponent.
The words
that comprise the Aseret Hadibrot are no less relevant today than they were
when given to us at Sinai by Gd over 3,300 years ago.
For
society to heal itself, it must regain control of its balance. We humans will always trip and fall. The trick is knowing how to tumble and be
able to get up without causing too much damage to our infrastructure. That’s where our moral compass comes to the
fore. It provides us with an inner rulebook we can
refer to which allow us to question our actions and by implication, recover. It will help us heal ourselves.
Perhaps,
if we have solid and clear values, we won’t trip so easily next time.
It’s
never too late to take in the significance of those Ten Commandments. We need to ensure that we utilise them to
repair our bruised societies. It’s never
too late to start.
Shavuah
Tov.
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