Ariel Isser Valedictory Address

Honored Rabbis, esteemed faculty, family, guests, and fellow graduates,

               This year, our upper school chose “journeys” as its theme. Whether that meant watching the movie “Up” on Kickoff, traveling around Israel with our entire upper school for 10 days, or just having a new excuse for wandering the hallways during classtime, we’ve really gotten a chance this year to explore what it means to go on a “journey”— all leading up to tonight. Tonight marks the commencement of our personal journeys as MJBHA graduates. For better or for worse, all the important ideas we’ve been exposed to after a year replete with “journeying”, or as some might call it-skipping class, will soon be brought to task. And thus, I find it frighteningly a propos that this coming Shabbos just so happens to be Parshat Behaalotcha, which chronicles the inception of our ancestors’ journey through the desert.

               We all know the Dor Hamidbar fails to complete its journey, instead dying out in the desert, and I’m sure all of us here today aspire to avoid the pain and heartbreak of leaving this world as metaphorical wanderers. Thus, at the onset of our unique journeys as BHA graduates, we must, at the very least, raise the question of how to avoid a similar fate as our ancestors?

               One commonly cited explanation for the Dor Hamidbar’s ultimate undoing is that its members were “trapped in the past”. Indeed, only about thirty psukim after they begin traveling in this week’s Parsha do the Jewish people complain that their lot in Egypt was so much better -- and by next week they’ll outright be crying to return to Egypt. And yet, though their failure to transcend this “slave mentality” eventually leads to their downfall, one need not look far beyond a Seder table on the first night of Pesach to appreciate the significance of our ancestors’ slavery in constructing and shaping our national identity. Not only that, but there are multiple examples of mitzvoth for which the Torah explicitly writes our purpose in keeping them is because of our experience as strangers in Egypt. So which is it? Why, on the one hand, would the Dor Hamidbar be severely punished for “living in the past” but on the other, we as Jews today, are seemingly encouraged to do just that?

               For the sake of brevity, I risk oversimplification but in short this apparent inconsistency can be resolved by contrasting between not seeing beyond the past versus seeing the future through the lens of the past. We cannot let our past own us, blind us, or stifle us, but we also cannot disassociate ourselves from our roots, our origins, and our traditions. The concept can be illustrated through a banal yet apt metaphor; our past experiences should be treated much like a bundle which we must carry over our shoulders as we travel along our own paths. While the bundle should not be so burdensome as to hinder our mobility, its presence must be unmistakable at all times.

               So now, we as graduating seniors are faced with a similar conflict. As we go off to the likes of college, Israel, and both the American and Israeli armies, we are forced to reconcile a sheltered and nurturing upbringing with a labyrinthine and monolithic world of innumerable ideas, opportunities, and sadly pitfalls. Our school has provided us with memories, experiences, relationships, and tools for life, and undoubtedly we’ll all be leaving with our own unique bundle—for some of us, our bundle will be filled with memories of an intensely warm kumzits at our 12^th Grade Kickoff, for others it might be a particularly interesting proof from an Algebra 2 class-eeh maybe not-, for still others it could be something as small as Bill’s morning greetings. Perhaps, some of us may find ourselves craving a tray of sea shell pasta one Thursday afternoon, just around 12:30PM long after we’ve left, while most of us will be carrying along lifelong friendships with peers and enduring relationships with teachers far into the future. Hopefully, we will also maintain a compartment in our sacks for some of the many values which have been instilled within us here, including but by no means limited to an appreciation of Chochma, a thirst for Torah, a love of Eretz Yisrael, a commitment to Derech Eretz, and a sense of Achrayut.

ביהדות כמעט כל חגיגה או מאורע משמח, משולבים בקבלת עול והתחייבות לעתיד. לדוגמא, חתן בר המצווה מקבל עליו עול תורה ומצוות, וחתן וכלה מתחייבים ביום שמחתם תחת חופתם לחיים משותפים ולבניית בית נאמן בישראל. בסיום כל מסכת אנו מתפללים שנזכה לסיים מסכתות רבות נוספות, ומיד עם סיום התורה אנחנו מתחילים לקרוא אותה שוב מבראשית. כבוגרים, אנחנו שמחים היום בהשגינו ובהצלחותינו, אך עם זאת, שומה עלינו להביט קדימה ולקבל על עצמינו אחריות לעתידנו. עד היום רוב ההחלטות שקיבלנו היו בסיוע הורינו ומורינו. כעת אנו עוברים לשלב הבגרות שבו רוב ההחלטות יתקבלו על ידינו ויקבעו במידה רבה את עתידנו. בנוסף, יש לנו אחריות לייצג את דרך התורה והיהדות שספגנו בבית ספרנו בעולם הרחב, ולשלב בין התורה לחיי המעשה. זאת אחריות כבדה ולדעתי הרבה יותר מחייבת מהצלחה בלימודים, כי החיים שלפנינו מלאי אתגרים ולא תמיד נוכל להעזר ביד מכוונת.

               So, take good care of your bundles; whether returning to a happy memory makes your lips curl up ever so slightly when you’re feeling down or whether considering some of the lessons you’ve learned here helps guide you through an especially hard decision, you never know when or how these past experiences will come in handy.  

Congratulations Class of 2011 for all of your accomplishments. I know great things lay ahead for each and every one of us, and I look forward to hearing about all of our successes in the upcoming years.