Eyes and Ears and Mouth (Rosh Hashanah 5774)

There is a curious pattern emerging in the Torah narratives we read on either side of Rosh Hashanah about eyes and ears and mouths.  

From "The School of Raphael"

Two weeks ago parshat Ki Tavo told us that not until that day -- as Moses formalized our community’s transition from reliance on him to reliance on each other for our spiritual and religious lives -- not until that very day did they have “eyes to see and ears to hear.” (Deuteronomy 29:3) A week ago parshat Nitzavim told us Torah is “as close as our mouths.” (Deuteronomy 30:14) Next comes Rosh Hashanah, literally the “head” of the year.  Followed immediately in Torah by parshat Ha’azinu or literally “giving ear” or listening. (Deuteronomy 32:1)  

Our eyes, ears, and mouths are all highlighted by Torah at this season that is the “head” of the year. All of which calls to mind a story about an ancient, ailing king of Persia.  (One 15th century version of this story is found in Yalkut Shimoni).  

The king’s doctors tell him he can be cured only by the milk of a lioness.  But no one in the kingdom is brave enough to walk up to a lion and take milk from her cubs.  Then one brave hunter comes forward volunteering, “Your highness, I will get the milk you need. your highness.”

The hunter uses his eyes and ears and nose to track a lioness to her den.  The hunter waits patiently, drawing himself closer day by day to the lioness and her cubs.  He looks for signs they are getting comfortable around him, then slowly advances closer.  He listens for signals they will not attack him, then slowly advances closer.  With patience and perseverance he gains the trust of the lioness and manages to take some of her milk.  

On the journey back to the king the hunter camps overnight.  But his sleep is disturbed by every element of his body boasting about how it - and it alone -is responsible for the great success of obtaining the lion’s milk.  

The eyes say, “It is thanks to me and only me that we were successful in finding the lions den.”  The ears say, “It is thanks to me and only me that we were successful in establishing trust with the lion.”  And on it went through the night. Boasting and bragging. 

The last part to speak-up was the tongue saying, “It is thanks to me and only me that we embarked on this mission. If I had not volunteered we would have accomplished nothing!”  All the others booed and shouted down the tongue. It was this noise and arguing that finally wakes the hunter for the final stretch toward the palace.  

All along the way the tongue is getting angry about how it had been put down by the others.  By the time the hunter gets to the palace, the tongue is so hurt and angry it blurts out, “Your highness, for you I have brought this milk . . . from a pig!” The king is astonished and orders the hunter to be put in the dungeon. Sitting in the dungeon the tongue is feeling mighty, mighty proud of itself for demonstrating its power to hurt all the other parts of the hunter.  

The tongue calls over a guard saying, “test the milk. It is really from a lion and will cure the king.” The doctors check.  The king is healed.  The hunter is released from the dungeon. Normally the story ends there.  It is a lesson about the power of the tongue: the power of our words to hurt or to heal.  

But at this season of reflection and renewal -- of committing ourselves to a path of improvement and change -- the story resonates differently.  What about the other parts of the hunter or the hunter himself?  Why do they seem powerless next to the tongue? They do nothing to temper the impulses of the tongue. They did nothing wrong exactly.  Yet they did nothing right either.   They did nothing; they were passive

Viewed through the prism of the Torah portions featuring eyes and ears and mouths, the lesson for me is that seeking forgiveness, renewing our commitments, and changing ourselves is not a passive exercise.  It is difficult action that requires all of me -- every element of me.  My eyes or my ears or my mouth cannot do it alone.  It takes all of me. 

So it is for our community as well. We cannot rely on one person or even one pair of people to change and improve our community in the year ahead. It takes all of us.  We have to bring each of ourselves and all of ourselves to the task of renewal.  

May the new year of 5774 be one of wisdom to know how to move every part of ourselves toward renewal.  And one of strength for everyone of us to move our community toward its highest aspirations. 

May it be a good sweet year for all of us.   

PS:  Rabbi Israel Salanter (19th century, Lithuania) taught we have two eyes for a reason. With one eye we look outward to our neighbors’ goodness, their excellence, and their most admirable qualities, so we might be inspired. With the other eye, we turn inward to see our own weaknesses, imperfections, and shortcomings so we might correct them. To Salanter’s insight we add: While looking out of the eye observing others, we should pray for the strength to resist the temptation to be critical or to look down on others. While looking out of the eye turned inward, we should pray for the strength to set our sights on fulfilling our highest potential.