Clergy Blog

Dear Friends,

Several weeks ago, in our weekly Torah reading, we read of the Prophet Balaam. Despite the fact that he was not Jewish, the Torah recognizes Balaam as a legitimate Prophet, with the power of pronouncing blessings and curses. When asked by the Moabite King Balak to curse the Israelites, the Prophet responds by informing the King that his pronouncement of blessings and curses are descriptive and, perhaps, predictive but they are not determinative. The Prophet cannot impose a blessing or a curse.

At the request of Balak, the Prophet departs to see this People, camped nearby, who have caused Balak such concern. From a perch above the Israelite encampment, Balaam looked down and saw a beautiful and Holy People. From that lofty lookout, the Prophet can only bless the Children of Israel. So inspiring and moving was his blessing that it has become ensconced in our liturgy as the first words we recite upon entering a synagogue: How goodly are your tents, O Jacob…

Part of the message of this episode is that perspective matters. Throughout the Book of Numbers, where this story appears, we hear mostly complaints and threats of rebellion against Moses. When we scrutinize from up close, we see most clearly the blemishes of a People ungrateful and obstinate. But the view from inside and up close, misses the beauty of the larger picture. Sometimes, it takes a view from a different vantage point, in this case, the view of an outsider looking from above, to remind us of the beauty we may have overlooked.

Last Shabbat, I did something that I have never done before: I attended Shabbat morning services as a congregant! For thirty-one years, I have led services that were carefully organized, and orchestrated for bar/bat mitzvah ceremonies and other celebrations. My thoughts on those Shabbatot needed to be focused on the choreography of the service (who went up for an Aliyah or Torah Honor), what page we were on in our Siddurim or Chumashim, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the clock, assuring that services concluded on time. I needed to focus on names (of bar/bat mitzvah students, parents, and grandparents) and, all the while, reviewing in my head the sermon I would deliver. What a difference it made to attend services without the encumbrances and distractions of a rabbi!

I found our Shabbat services last week to be both relaxing and meaningful. Rabbi Witkovsky treated us to a lovely sermon about the importance and weight of the words we speak. And, following services, we enjoyed a lovely kiddush. At that moment, I could not help but think that, despite the joy I have had over three decades leading Shabbat and Holiday services, I had missed something important. Our Shabbat services seemed quite different than those I had led, not because the services (and the rabbi!) have changed, but because I viewed our services from a different perspective. I found the view from the pew refreshing and surprisingly satisfying.

It is worth remembering that when we look at something for a very long time, we can become bored, disinterested or even dismissive: Been there. Done that. There comes a time when we crave a change. What needs to change, however, may not be the object we have regarded, but the perspective from which it is seen. Friendships can become stale. Relationships can be taken for granted. There comes a time when we need renewal. What we may need, however, is not a new partner. Perhaps, what we need is a different angle from which to look, a different vantage point.

The process of renewal may be more a matter of perspective than a process that requires a substantive change. And here, we can learn an important lesson from Balaam. The non-Jewish Prophet saw the Children of Israel as an outsider, from a lookout which gave him a perspective to see things differently. He saw what we may have missed simply because we were standing too close.

For all those years as your rabbi, I enjoyed our Shabbat and Festival services. But truth be told, I needed to make a change and that change was made simply by changing my vantage point. From my “new view from the pew”, I found a different, deeper appreciation for our Shabbat services. As I sat next to Lori on Shabbat morning, without jumping up to remind this one of their Aliya and that one of the page number in her Siddur, I found a renewed sense of joy and spirit.

I invite you to join me for our Shabbat services. I suggest, as well, that you not sit in the seat in which you have been sitting for so many years. I predict that, from this different perspective, you will find in our services lots that will feel familiar but, at the same time, you will sense more directly that which is new. Next time, if you see things from a slightly different perch, you too may be prompted to say, “How beautiful are your tents, O Jacob”.

B’Shalom,

Neil S. Cooper, Rabbi Emeritus