The Quest for Significance

A Thought on Parashas Nitzavim and Preparing for Rosh Hashanah

Having recently traveled, I found myself with some extra time to read. A standout was the latest issue of the Harvard Business Review, titled "Reskilling in the Age of AI." The article posits that the longevity of skills is diminishing, averaging less than five years. Even more striking, some tech fields have a skill half-life of just two and a half years. Simply upskilling will not suffice for many. This prompts an essential question: how do we maintain relevance in the AI era? The article goes on to suggest various strategies for companies to assist their employees in reskilling and staying pertinent.

As Rosh Hashanah approaches, there's an undeniable air of reflection and anticipation. The Nesivos Shalom vividly describes this period as our spiritual performance evaluation, setting the tone for the coming year. Our Parashah provides insights into mastering this spiritual evaluation.

Rabbi Sacks offers a profound perspective:¹

Something remarkable happens in this week’s parsha, almost without our noticing it, that changed the very terms of Jewish existence, and has life-changing implications for all of us. Moses renewed the covenant. This may not sound dramatic, but it was.

Thus far, in the history of humanity as told by the Torah, God had made three covenants. The first, was with Noah, and through him, with all humanity. I call this the covenant of human solidarity. The second, was with Abraham and his descendants. That made Abraham the father of a new faith that would not be the faith of all humanity but would strive to be a blessing to all humanity. The third was with the Israelites in the days of Moses, when the people stood at Mount Sinai, heard the Ten Commandments and accepted the terms of their destiny as “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.”

In our parsha, Moses, seemingly of his own initiative, renewed the covenant:

All of you are standing today before the Lord your God – your leaders, your tribes, your elders and officials, all the men of Israel, your children, your wives, the strangers in your camp, from woodcutter to water-drawer – to enter into the covenant of the Lord your God and its oath, which the Lord your God is making with you today, to establish you today as His people, that He may be your God, as He promised you and swore to your ancestors, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. 

The renewal of the covenant happened because Moses knew it had to happen. The terms of Jewish history were about to shift from Divine initiative to human initiative. This is what Moses was preparing the Israelites for in the last month of his life. It is as if he had said: Until now God has led – in a pillar of cloud and fire – and you have followed. Now God is handing over the reins of history to you. From here on, you must lead. If your hearts are with Him, He will be with you. But you are now no longer children; you are adults. An adult still has parents, as a child does, but his or her relationship with them is different. An adult knows the burden of responsibility. An adult does not wait for someone else to take the first step.

That is the epic significance of Nitzavim, the parsha that stands almost at the end of the Torah and that we read almost at the end of the year. It is about getting ready for a new beginning: in which we act for God instead of waiting for God to act for us.

Translate this into human terms and you will see how life-changing it can be. Many years ago, at the beginning of my rabbinical career, I kept waiting for a word of encouragement from a senior rabbinical figure. I was working hard, trying innovative approaches, seeking new ways of getting people engaged in Jewish life and learning. You need support at such moments because taking risks and suffering the inevitable criticism is emotionally draining. The encouragement never came. The silence hurt. It ate, like acid, into my heart.

Then in a lightning-flash of insight, I thought: what if I turn the entire scenario around. What if, instead of waiting for Rabbi X to encourage me, I encouraged him? What if I did for him what I was hoping he would do for me? That was a life-changing moment. It gave me a strength I never had before.

I began to formulate it as an ethic. Don’t wait to be praised: praise others. Don’t wait to be respected: respect others. Don’t stand on the sidelines, criticising others. Do something yourself to make things better. Don’t wait for the world to change: begin the process yourself, and then win others to the cause. There is a statement attributed to Gandhi: ‘Be the change you seek in the world.’² Take the initiative.

That was what Moses was doing in the last month of his life, in that long series of public addresses that make up the book of Devarim, culminating in the great covenant-renewal ceremony in today’s parsha. Devarim marks the end of the childhood of the Jewish people. From there on, Judaism became God’s call to human responsibility. For us, faith is not waiting for God. Faith is the realisation that God is waiting for us.

Hence the life-changing idea: Whenever you find yourself distressed because someone hasn’t done for you what you think they should have done, turn the thought around, and then do it for them.

Don’t wait for the world to get better. Take the initiative yourself. The world is waiting for you.

Our parashah identifies ten figures standing beside Moshe, each crucial to the formation of the Jewish people. Their collective roles ensured the covenant's durability. Indeed each role represented a commandment on the Luchos HaBris (lit. Tablets of the Covenant).³ The Lubavitcher Rebbe⁴ expounded on the unity of the Jewish community, stressing its uniqueness. Unlike communities bound by transient objectives, the Jewish community's bond is eternal, rooted in faith. Real unity, the Rebbe explained, isn't homogeneity, but each member's unique contribution to the shared covenant.

I recently read Seth Godin’s book, "The Song of Significance." In it, Godin illustrates how bees establish new hives. Remarkably, they do this without any guidance or strategy, but with sheer motivation. If they fail to find a new hive within days, they perish. Godin contrasts the mundane tasks of industrial work with "significant" work, which is challenging and filled with purpose. In such roles, workers are accorded autonomy, respect, and safety. Godin’s argument is clear: work of significance is the better choice. He writes, "What we yearn for is significance, to do work that matters, to do something we thought we couldn’t do, to be treated with respect, to be part of something.”

Significance is a choice. It’s not about what we make, it’s about how we choose to make it. It's essential to seek out how you can make a meaningful impact in the upcoming year and take action. Whether it's an endeavor you're familiar with or a novel pursuit, the world awaits your contribution.

History has shown how the relevance of tasks has shifted, especially after the industrial revolution, rendering once crucial jobs obsolete. While AI may seem intimidating, it's just the next step in this evolution. Godin emphasizes that staying relevant requires embracing our human and creative essence.

Ramchal⁵ teaches us that man should always strive to see clearly what is his obligation in his world. This is an ongoing quest, as the playing field constantly changes.

However, one must be cautious not to fall victim to what Steven Pressfield⁶ describes as "resistance" – which is a nice term for the Yetzer Hara. This internal force called resistance is mightier than any outside obstacle in deterring you from reaching your aspirations. It's that nagging thought suggesting you lack the talent, strength, or motivation to embark on your creative path. Resistance tricks you by giving excuses to keep you from the tasks you know you should undertake.

Pressfield elaborates that this resistance arises specifically when you engage in activities that nourish your soul and align with your true purpose. Your innate skills and passions define your "genius," a term which in Latin means “inner-guiding spirit.” If you ever felt a pull telling you you're meant to be a writer, entrepreneur, a social justice champion, or even the one to find the cure for cancer, that's your genius reaching out. But along with that, resistance also makes its presence known. Think of resistance as a compass, always pointing towards the work that matters most to you. It challenges these endeavors precisely because they hold significant meaning in your life. They're intertwined with your broader purpose and identity. In Pressfield's words, “Most of us lead two lives: the one we're living and the unexplored life within us. Resistance stands between them.”

As the year draws to a close and we usher in a new one, let us use this auspicious time to reflect on our contributions and significance. It's an opportunity to evaluate whether our actions have faced resistance, yielded success, or if we need to acquire new skills. Consider jotting down your intentions to maintain relevance throughout the coming year. Use this note as a reminder, especially during trying times.

Let's harness our innate human gifts and creativity to keep making a difference. In doing so, may we uphold the sacred bond between Hashem and the Jewish community, and may the new year be filled with boundless blessings.

1. https://www.rabbisacks.org/covenant-conversation/nitzavim/world-waiting-for-you/

2

Actually he never said it, but in a parallel universe he might have done. - see https://www.rabbisacks.org/covenant-conversation/nitzavim/world-waiting-for-you/#_ftn2

3. Rav Moshe Dovid Vali, Mishneh L’Melech - Nitzavim

4. Likkutei Torah, beg. of Nitzavim

5. Mesilas Yesharim

6. The War of Art