This week begins the 3rd book of the Torah, Sefer Vayikra. Vayikra translates as, ''and He called'', refering to God''s calling to Moses. Thus the theme of ''divine calling'' stands out as a central teaching of this book, and of a spiritual life in general. The idea of calling rubs up against our deepest human hopes, quandries and discomforts. It stirs our questions of self-worth, of purpose, of productivity, and identity. To grapple with calling is, in essence, to grapple with one''s sense of ''size''. In fact, one of the core teachings around Vayikra deals specifically with size, for the word itself features a sudden and glaring shift in the size of one of its letter. The aleph of vayikra is diminished...and how it stands out in its diminution! Commentaries amass around this one scribal detail. It becomes a key illustration of the paradox of Moses'' humility and his greatness. The Midrash shares that when God instructed Moses to write “Vayikra” in the Torah, he was reluctant. He begged God to omit this word which so expressed his being singled out with such distinction. God insisted the word be retained, though agreed to one concession. He said, “Reduce the letter Alef to a small size. This will indicate that you humbled yourself and made yourself small.” The letter aleph, the first of letters, is identical to the word ''aluph'' – meaning ''chief, leader''. This story thus offers us a model of calling and leadership that is built upon an act of ''making oneself small'', a ready antidote to the inflation of ego that so often accompanies leadership. Moses is the aluph, the leader, who humbly diminishes himself. Along the same theme, the Midrash shares that the reason God called to Moses was because of Moses'' humility. For Moses stood outside of the Tent of Meeting and humbly refrained from entering1. Instead he waited for God to called him forth.2 Given that this Torah reading falls around the time of the holiday of Purim, I can not help but be struck by a parallel image to this that is found in the Purim story. For the defining moment of the Purim narrative is when Esther defies the royal decree against approaching the King without being called. In order to save her people, Esther risks life and limb to approach the King (who of course is taken as a metaphor for God). She approached without being called. Her act of initiative succeeds and proves her to be the leader of the generation. The contrast to Moses'' tale is striking. Whereas Moses in his humility shrunk away from approaching God until called, Esther, with great hutzpah, rose to the task of approaching the King without being called...and in that she was rewarded and in that she fulfilled her calling. Esther''s model of leadership teaches us that divine calling is not simply about the diminishment of size, but is more about the balancing of size. Yes, perhaps it is the case for Moses that in order to take on the largeness of leadership, he needed to diminish himself. But for Esther, her calling was fulfilled when she stepping forward in self-assertion and expression.3 Both figures had to find a balance point from which to approach the divine. And so it is with us in our own efforts to enact our calling in the world. We all must find the size that is appropriate for us in any given situation. For some of us, that might mean diminishing our aleph, but for others, it might mean expanding our hutzpa. The highest ideal for which we can strive is the balancing out of size. Integration exercise: Make an effort to notice your ''size'' in a given situation (at a dinner party, within a crowd, with your spouse or children). Size yourself up. Do you need to diminish your self or build yourself? Should you speak out or keep quiet? What is your calling at that moment and what size fits the task? * A Prayer for Proportion Hashem, what do you want of me? To shine or to shy? To bury or to blare? Am I called to sit demure or am I called to dare? And if I blaze too bright and brazen will you cover me with your hovering of ceiling soft and cloud? Or if I cower too cautious will you pillar into fire to summon me to summits higher than I myself allow? Is our lesson in the lessening or is it in the rowdy row of song? Is it our task to tremble at the Tabernacle? To stutter and stub our toes lest we should overstep or open what is better left closed? Or rather are we called to tackle the treasured whim of entrance to pay the tole of voice and tell the truth with boisterous and boyish zeal? Perhaps it is our destined path to steal the stash of cunning keys of calling clad in harmony To push aside the tapestry to the draped domain of God enshrined within our very sleeves? What of we who have traced long geneologies of uncalled-for humility All too familiar with the art of a whisper the firm push of a hush. What of we who have witnessed minions of with-holding and modesty gone amuck and all we want to do is step through the crowd who cower at the gate and enter into the incensed den of witness To be seen and to be shown - to allow for expression where long lines of repression have sown something not humble or holy but something pained estranged from calling withheld and shamed And yes I blame the black-belts of chastity and rather belt a song to set a frenzy of shifting tides of size in perpetuity For I want no tight wrap of scroll to seal my childrens'' lips. I want them to quip well-equipped. Practiced as piano scales instilled with skills of opening to gusts of prayer. Where yawn is turned to song and closets into windows full of phosphorescence and ever-falling-music notes. To not be thrown by winds of all-too-human trends to know intuitively to chose how to speak and when To know when to request a feast to save something precious from becoming extinct. So, please, help us as we strive in the balancing out of size and shine Instill in us the wisdom to know how to best approach the King Divine 1Vayikra Rabba 1:5 2 Humility appears to be the Biblical trademark of greatness. Bezalel, the great and singled-out constructor of the mishkan, was also a man of humility. His name means “In the shadow of God” and evokes an image of one who lingers in the shadows, not the showman on center stage. In the Torah, it is the man who shuns the lime-light that shines with God''s light.
(photo credit: The Jerusalem Post)