Sermon - Beshalach - "Taking the Long-Cut"

“Taking the Long-cut”

I love a great shortcut! I love my gps, I love google maps and I am always trying to figure out the quickest way to get from point A to point B. A few weeks ago, someone posted on the Potomac Listserve, a shortcut to the Hebrew Academy (the school my daughter attends) from Potomac. I was so excited. The next time I drove carpool, I timed it. I shaved a minute and a half off my time! I was mamash bsimcha (literally in a state of joy) all day just because I saved a minute and a half!
We all love shortcuts. All of technology is built around creating shortcuts. Think about remote controls, computers, apps; these are all shortcuts. “Progress” can really be defined as doing the same things more quickly.

It was therefore surprising to read the first posuk from this morning’s parshah. The Jewish people have just left Egypt and now they are on their way to Israel. What is the shortest way to get from Egypt to Israel? Straight up the coast towards current day Gaza (in hebrew, “derech eretz plishtim).
What way do the Jews go? Southeast.
Why? If they would have just gone straight up the coast they wouldn't have had to cross the Red Sea and they would have been in Israel in a matter of days.
The posuk gives an answer.

ולא נחם אלקים דרך ארץ פלשתים כי קרוב הוא.

G-d did not take them up the coast (the shortcut) because it was a shortcut!
This makes no sense. If it was the shortcut, why didn't they take it.
It is because of this problem that most commentators say that the word כי which normally means “because” in this case means “despite the fact.” Despite the fact that it was a shortcut, Hashem did not take them on that route because they might see an opposing army and turn around.

Rashi and Ibn Ezra, however, say something amazing. “Ki” means because. Hashem did not take them on the shortcut, because it was a shortcut. Sometimes a shortcut is not the best idea. If it is so easy to get there, it is also easy to go back. If something is easily attained, it is also easy to give up. Hashem therefore wanted them to take the longcut. If something is hard to get, you will keep it forever.

I often think about the history of Aliyah to Israel. In the 1700’s, it was extremely difficult to make Aliyah. The Ohr Hachaim Hakadosh’s (Rabbi Chaim ben Attar) life’s goal was to make aliyah. First he made the long trip from Morocco to Italy (Livorno). He then was not able to continue. There was disease, financial struggles and more. Finally, a few years later, he went on to Acre and a few years after that he finally made it to Yerushalayim. It took him more than 5 years to make Aliyah! When he arrived, he faced a lot of difficulty, but he did not turn around. When you invest 5 years in getting somewhere, you don’t just turn around.

Think about Aliyah today. It is still extremely difficult but compared to the 18th century, it is much more manageable. The flight is only 12 hours, we can still skype with family and friends and many people are able to still work for their American Employers and telecommute. I have talked to people who have made aliyah and then come back to America. They faced real challenges and I know it is painful for them to leave. But it was easier for them to make aliyah, so it is easier to return.

This idea is true on many levels. I just read a fascinating book, “Outliers” by Malcolm Gladwell.
The book is answering the following question. Why is it that some people become Outliers? Why do some people become masters in their art or field. Think about Mozart, the Beatles, Bill Gates (I was going to say Lance Armstrong but that doesn't work any more!).
Gladwell proves that while these people had tremendous talent, that is not why they became the best. There were others with the same talent. Gladwell comes up with what he calls the Ten thousand hour rule. In order to become great at something you need to spend 10,000 hours practicing. The Beatles were excellent individual musicians. But the only reason they became outliers was because they practiced more than 10 thousand hours.
There is no shortcut to excellence. To really accomplish something, we must take the longcut.

I am always amazed that often times when I am thinking about something, I find a message from the day’s daf yomi (page of talmud studied every day). In today’s page (shabbat 115b), we read something shocking.

ספרים שכתובים בכל לשון...לא נתנו לקרות בהם

It is forbidden to read translations of sacred texts. The gemara says (according to one opinion), if your house is burning down on shabbat and inside the house you have an artscroll translation of the Torah and the only way to rescue the english torah is by carrying it without an eruv, you must let the English Torah burn. Let me say that again. You must let the english torah burn.
Translated Torahs cannot be read, they are left to burn, one of the reasons we fast on the tenth of Teves is because in the third century B.C.E, the Torah was translated into Greek.
Why fast? Shouldn't translation be wonderful. It makes the Torah accessible to so many.

But when you think about it, translations are really shortcuts. They make it easy. If you want to take the long cut, you do it in the original. You break your teeth, you try to put one word next to another, it takes a lot of time, but when you get it, when you understand it, you will never lose it. If you read the translation, it is easy to get, but also very easy to lose.
This is why even though translations are important, we always have to remember that there is a certain “tragedy of translation.” It is a shortcut.

This issue of taking the shortcut versus the longcut is something that we struggle with all of the time here at Beth Sholom. We are an outreach shul. As an outreach shul, we are making Judaism accessible to outsiders, we are making it inspiring, doable, unintimidating. This is all important. But sometimes I wonder if we make it too easy and accessible, if we “translate” it too much. If it is easy to attain, it will be easy to give up.
We shouldn't be looking for the shortcut. We should be looking for the longcut.

I have a friend who always says, “If we do X in the following way, it will be quick, simple and easy. This is his motto; Quick, Simple and Easy. I am thinking that I want my motto to be “Long, Complex and Hard!”
To quote John F. Kennedy “We don't do these things not because they are easy but because they are hard.”
I am sure you know the Yiddish Saying, “Shver Tz’zein a Yid.” It is hard to be a Jew. Lets not look for the shortcut. If it is quick simple and easy, it is also easy to give up. Lets choose the longcut.

Let me conclude by sharing an experience that I had just yesterday. I had what I thought would be a brief meeting with Rabbi Eli Reingold, Rosh Kollel of the Yeshiva of Greater Washington. The meeting went on for two hours. We started by discussing some interesting halakhic questions that he was dealing with. I was very impressed with his knowledge, insight and sensitivity. He had an amazing grasp of all areas of the Talmud and Halakha and many people come to him with very complex halakhic questions.
After about an hour, the conversation turned to personal matters. I asked him where he was from. He said, Cleveland. Wow! I am from cleveland so I asked him, where did you go to school (thinking that he went to the Hebrew Academy, the only orthodox school in town when he was growing up). He said, “I went to Shaker Heights High.” What! I did a double take. How did someone go from Shaker Heights High to being a master of Talmud. He explained that when he was a teenager, he got turned on to Judaism and he begged his parents to send him to Telz yeshiva. He arrived at Telz and stayed for 23 years! I am sure the first few years were extremely difficult. He told me he barely knew the Aleph bet. There were no artscroll talmuds. He worked and worked and worked. He probably put in 12 hours a day for 23 years (remember the 10 thousand hour rule) and he ended up being a tremendous master of Talmud and Halakha.
23 years! He took the longcut and it made all the difference. He is definitely someone I want to get to know better.

When I was in High School, I did not really study Poetry because I went to a very frum yeshiva. But when I was going out with Sarah in college, I took a poetry class to impress her because she is a Poet! So I am going to read the last few lines of a poem that you probably had to memorize in high school. It is from Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.”

Two Roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that had made all the difference.

Let us take the road less traveled. The longer road, the path that is more difficult, more complex - the longcut.
I promise you that if we take that road, it will make all the difference.