Bondage to Redemption (Part Three)

Did not the psalmist (Ps 126.5) write, “Those who sow in tears, will reap in joy”? Could not the operative idea be the path through which we turn the challenges of life into the moments of unique spirit? The imperative need during a fierce storm is not resignation but a strong sail that we can raise that will carry us away from the threatening waves.

Yes, the wind is real; the storm is real; life’s challenges are real. One cannot find asylum from these real struggles by turning tail and running away. The message of Jonah is just that. Fleeing will only delay and exacerbate the challenges. Standing toe to toe with them, can only lead to a brighter future. This message is clear. You have to want to sail. You have to raise a banner in order to confront life’s storms. No one knows which way the wind may blow or which direction you will be drawn, but raising the sail is the first step towards redemption. And this might become the most ennobling journey of your life.

Very early in my rabbinic career, I came across the poetry of William Ernest Henley. This British poet, critic and editor is a great illustration of a heroic soul that grew through life’s storms. As a child he caught tuberculosis and had a foot amputated. Much of his life seemed to struggle under the weight of the storms that pounded him. He was relegated to writing from his bed. A verse of his that has been etched into my mind is this:

It matters not how straight the gate,
How charged with punishment the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.

Beethoven and Bach were deaf; Chopin continued to compose for 10 years while arthritis ravaged him. Person after person, beaten and battered by physical struggles and pain raised their sails in order to find calmer waters. They transformed their lives into shields against the storms that surrounded them. They were fashioned with a unique spark of life that built faith and hope when all seemed lost. They proved that the human spirit holds a remarkable luminescence, powerful enough to melt away the darkness and defeat the storms of life.

In our own tradition, there was one man who held that kind of hope for the future. He heard the cry of centuries of pain and suffering. He sensed the ground shudder while the restless souls of generations cried from beyond this world for rest. He emerged into the world with a conscience hidden from his grasp and as he matured, the sparks of that conscience lit his soul afire and he found himself standing before the reflected image of himself in that lonely, solitary bush growing out of a craggy rock. From that bush flowed words that would ring true to this day … “Shlach et Ami/Let my people go”. Go down, Moses, let my people go!