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    YISRO: TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE

    WHY NO STEPS
    ASCENDING TO
    THE ALTAR?
    Climbing the
    Hotel
    Bill, Jim, and Scott
    were at a convention together sharing a
    large suite at the top of a 75-story hotel.
    After a long day of meetings, they were
    shocked to hear that the elevators in their
    hotel were broken, and they would have
    to climb 75 flights of stairs to get to their
    room.
    Bill said to Jim and Scott, “Let’s break
    the monotony of this unpleasant task by
    concentrating on something interesting.
    I’ll tell jokes for 25 flights, Jim can sing
    songs for the next 25 flights and Scott
    will tell sad stories for the rest of the
    way.” On the 26th floor, Bill stopped
    telling jokes and Jim began to sing. At
    the 51st floor, Jim stopped singing and
    Scott began to tell sad stories.
    “I will tell my saddest story first,” he
    said. “I left the room key in the car.”
    No Stairs
    This week’s Torah portion, Yisro,
    capturing the most important and
    defining event in Jewish history, the
    covenant crafted between G-d and a
    people chosen to become the paragons of
    morality and holiness in an earthly
    world, concludes with a strange
    instruction:
    “You shall not ascend My Altar on steps
    so that your nakedness will not be
    uncovered upon it.”
    The biblical commentators explain that
    the priests serving in the Temple wore
    short pants, spanning from the thighs to
    the knees. Ascending stairs requires one
    to take wide, extensive, and spacious
    steps, which would expose more of their
    body, and would not befit the reverence
    required in G-d’s home. The Torah,
    therefore, required a ramp ascending to
    the altar, since this allows the priest to
    take small strides in a dignified and
    respectful manner.
    The great 11th century French biblical
    commentator Rashi explains this in
    greater detail: “Steps require you to take
    wide strides. Although this does not in
    actuality expose your nakedness…
    nonetheless, taking wide steps is close to
    exposing nakedness. Thus, by taking

    wide steps, you treat the stones of the
    altar in a humiliating manner.” Rashi
    adds that this mitzvah teaches us an
    important moral lesson. “If regarding
    these stones which lack the perception to
    be hurt by their humiliation, the Torah
    says, ‘Since there is a need for them, do
    not treat them in a humiliating manner,’
    your fellow human being who is created
    in the image of your Creator and is
    sensitive to humiliation, how much more
    so must you treat him with respect!”
    The Climax
    As mentioned above, this week’s
    portion captures the most significant
    event in the history of the Jewish people
    and of the world — when G-d, in a
    moment never to be repeated again —
    revealed to an entire nation His existence,
    charging it with the mission of saturating
    the world with holiness. This was the
    moment when the Creator communicated
    to the world His universal laws of
    morality and ethics. If we believe that
    somebody created the world and cares
    about its destiny, it is fair to assume that
    at some point this Being communicated
    with its inhabitants His intent in creation.
    This is indeed what transpired at Sinai. It
    was the event that gave human history, in
    historian Paul Johnson’s words, “the
    dignity of purpose.” It paved the road in
    the jungle of history.
    One would expect that the closing
    sentence of this portion would somehow
    capture the power and grace of this
    extraordinary moment, one that in many
    ways shapes the moral history of
    humanity. Yet the Torah chooses to
    culminate this section with what seems
    to be a simple and mundane law: “You
    shall not ascend My altar on steps so that
    your nakedness will not be uncovered
    upon it.” Why?
    Finding Your Own Truth
    It is precisely in these final words that
    the Torah shares with us a moving lesson
    regarding the human quest to “ascend
    G-d’s Altar,” to climb the ladder of moral
    and spiritual enlightenment.
    Often in life, people experience a new
    awareness that inspires them to move
    their lives to a different level, to live
    deeper, and to love deeper. They are
    moved to make changes.

    Yet sometimes, as a result of a
    genuine longing to abandon a
    previous lifestyle of shallowness,
    falsehood, addiction,
    promiscuity, loneliness, or
    shame, people begin to take wide
    and expansive steps, determined
    to reach great peaks in short
    spans of time, craving to master
    elevated modes of consciousness
    and lifestyles.
    Thus, immediately following the most

    spiritually enlightening and earth-
    shattering event in history, when G-d

    shared Himself with humanity, the Torah
    culminates with this declaration: “You
    shall not ascend My Altar on steps, so
    that your nakedness will not be
    uncovered upon it.” Do not become who
    you are not. Do not jump to places
    beyond yourself. Every movement
    forward must be internalized and
    integrated into your individual identity
    because when you take steps that
    overwhelm you, rather than elevate you,
    you may end up naked and exposed. You
    might fall down fast and hard. People
    who overestimate themselves, often end
    up underestimating themselves.
    Never disregard, the Torah is teaching
    us, the value of one small move in the
    quest for truth. Wherever you are in life,
    you can serve G-d genuinely according
    to your own potential and situation. You
    can discover the light of G-d within your
    present condition. Challenge yourself to
    encounter your own inner light and truth;
    you need not climb on the truths and
    experiences of others. Grow you must;
    challenge yourself you must. But take
    the ramp, not the stairs. Don’t jump
    ahead of yourself, because your authentic
    self may be left behind. And when you
    discover that, you may fall down and
    lose everything. You might end up bare.
    King Solomon put it simply: “Do not
    stand in the place of the great.” Why?
    Not because by stepping into the shoes
    of the great, you will be robbing
    somebody else of his or her place of
    greatness. Rather, by doing so, you will
    be denying yourself your own individual
    process, the one that is great for you.
    Real people are inspired by other people
    but never copy them.
    Of course, there are moments you make
    take a big jump that may initially seem
    frightening. Big things happen when
    ordinary people muster the courage to

    actualize extraordinary visions. The path
    to recovery and to healing always
    requires a drastic leap. Yet we must
    ensure that these big steps enhance our
    true identity rather than crush it; that
    they embody our inner calling, mission,
    and power, not a superficial emulation of
    other people’s standards and behaviors.
    “To Thine Own Self Be True,” is also
    true in the religious and spiritual life.
    Sometimes even more. G-d wants you to
    be you, not me. He wants me to be me,
    not you.
    Wine and Vinegar
    A Talmudic vignette:
    The Talmud quotes one of its great
    sages, Mar Eukva, saying the following
    curious statement about himself: “I am,
    in comparison to my father, what vinegar
    is in comparison to wine. When my
    father would eat meat, he would wait a
    full 24 hours until he ate cheese. But I?
    When I eat meat, I eat cheese during the
    following meal” (around six hours later).
    The obvious question is, if this Talmudic
    sage held his father’s behavior in such
    high esteem, to the extent of seeing
    himself as vinegar compared to his father
    as wine, why didn’t he change his
    behavior and follow his father’s custom?
    Why didn’t he turn himself into “wine?”
    The answer may be that Mar Eukva was
    keenly aware of the truth that his father
    was on a totally different spiritual level
    than he. Waiting a full 24 hours after
    eating meat before he would eat cheese
    would in some mystical way enrich his
    father’s soul. For the son to engage in
    this behavior, it would be merely an act
    of copying and mimicking his father’s
    behavior. For his soul, this would be a
    meaningless experience.
    Since according to Jewish law, after
    eating meat one needs to wait only six
    hours in order to eat dairy products, this
    sufficed for Mar Eukvah.