Rabbi Charles P. Sherman
Brock Morton Bar Mitzvah
Shabbat Sh'lach L'cha
June 12, 2004
Avoid the Tourist Trap
My Los Angeles colleague, Ed Feinstein, reports that some years ago he had friends who went on an around-the-world trip. It was their dream of a lifetime. They packed and planned for weeks, they read books about all the places they were going to visit, they sent their friends postcards from various stops along the way. When they returned, they showed pictures and told friends all about their trip.
They had stayed at the Sheraton Hotel in Bangkok, they had eaten Kentucky Fried Chicken in Beijing, they had seen a Clint Eastwood movie in Calcutta, they had drunk Budweiser at a bar in Amsterdam, they had Kellogg's Corn Flakes for breakfast in London.
When I read about this trip, it reminded me of the story about Rabbi Shapiro who goes to Paris. He finds a kosher restaurant there and orders gefilte fish, then chicken soup with kreplach, then roasted chicken, and finally tea and honeycake. Then he says - I don't know why people make such a big fuss about French cooking.
Rabbi Feinstein's friends were like that; they traveled around the world inside a hermetically sealed tour bus. When they ventured out of their bus, they wore huge cameras around their necks, a kind of life-support apparatus which identified them as tourists and kept the outside world at bay. They wanted to see the world, but not let it touch them. They were the classic definition of a tourist - "someone who stands on the outside, looking in." They were so afraid of the new, of the unfamiliar, so fearful that it might shake up their own cozy, secure, parochial narrow world, so afraid of encountering a different kind of life than their own, that they visited many of the world's capitals and ate at McDonalds in every one.
Now compare that experience of tourists with the ones in today's Torah reading. Moses sends twelve scouts on a mission, latur et ha-aretz, to tour the land. They come back and say, as Brock read: it is not for us. It is too tough a job to conquer this place. Let's go back to Egypt - to what we know, to the familiar.
The spies went as tourists, and they came back as tourists. They saw the land, but they did not let the land touch them, affect them. They never bonded with the land. They were only tourists - not discoverers, not inheritors, not owners - just tourists. They behaved as if they did not belong in this place and, therefore, this land did not and could not ever belong to them. That is why those ten spies and their entire adult generation had to march around in the desert for another 38 years and die off.
But two among the twelve spies - Joshua and Caleb - heard a different call from Moses. They heard him say alu - go up - and they took that to mean: don't go as a tourist, go as an oleh. Don't go in fear. Rather, let the land elevate you, let the experience transform you, let the moment move you, for this will be your new home. You belong here. Rabbi Feinstein says that the most important thing that a parent can give a child is a sense that they belong in the world, that they are not just passing through, but that they have a home and roots and a claim.
I want to talk about touring this morning not only because this week's Torah portion teaches about the world's first tourists, but because many of us will be leaving soon for trips to all kinds of places all around the world. Tourism has become a multi-billion dollar industry in our time. Every summer millions of Americans pack their bags and head for Europe, Asia, Africa and other far-off, exotic destinations. These places would become terribly crowded with this invasion of American visitors if it were not for one thing. At the very time that Americans take off to visit these sites, the people who live in those places take off to visit America.
Many of the people in our sanctuary this morning will soon be leaving on tours, so let me send you off with best wishes and with two gifts to help you on the way. One is Tefillat Haderech - the prayer that Jews traditionally say when they set out on a journey. I am going to post this sermon on our Temple website so you actually can take both gifts from it or, if you are not a computer person, call the Temple office on Monday and we'll be glad to send it to you.
"May it be Your will, Eternal our God and God of our ancestors, to bring us to our destination in life, in joy, and in peace, and then to bring us back home again in peace. Guard us from all enemies who may lurk along the way, and protect us from all dangers that may be coming our way. Bless the work of our hands, and may we find favor and grace in Your sight and in the sight of all those whom we meet on this trip. Please hear this prayer of ours, for You are the God who listens to our prayers."
Offer this prayer on your journey, and may it be a link between you and your congregation, a link between you and God. And may you have a safe and blessed trip.
Now gift number two - also available on the website or simply by calling the Temple office. This tourist prayer comes from one of my favorite theologians, Art Buchwald.
Heavenly Father,
Look down on us, Your humble obedient tourist servants who are doomed to travel this earth - taking photographs, mailing postcards, buying souvenirs, and walking around in drip-dry underwear.
We beseech You, O God, to see to it that our plane is not hijacked, that our luggage is not lost, and our overweight baggage goes unnoticed.
Protect us from surly and unscrupulous taxi drivers, from avaricious porters and from unlicensed guides who know every language but English.
Give us divine guidance in the selection of hotels and, when we arrive, may we find our reservations honored, our rooms made up and hot water running from the faucets.
We pray that the telephones work, the operators speak our language, and that there is no mail from our children that will force us to cancel the rest of our trip and rush home.
Lead us, dear God, to inexpensive restaurants, where the food is edible, the waiters friendly, and the wine is included in the price of the meal.
Give us the wisdom with which to tip correctly in currencies that we do not comprehend. Forgive us for under-tipping out of ignorance or over-tipping out of fear.
May the natives love us for who we are, and not for what we can contribute to alleviating their national debt.
Grant us the strength with which to visit the museums, the cathedrals, the palaces and the castles that we have been told are essential to see. And if perchance we skip a monument or two in order to take a rest, have mercy upon us and forgive us, for our flesh is weak.
Husbands: Dear God, keep our wives from reckless shopping and do not lead them into the temptation of "bargains" that they do not really need, and that we cannot really afford. Lead them not into the bazaars and the stores for they know not what they buy.
Wives: Almighty God, keep our husbands from staring at foreign women, and comparing them with us. Save them from embarrassing themselves in the cafes and nightclubs that we visit. And do not forgive them their trespasses, for they know exactly what they do.
All together: And when our trip is over, and we return to our loved ones, grant us the favor of finding someone, anyone, who will look at our home movies and listen to our stories, so that our lives as tourists will not have been in vain.
This we ask in the name of the Hilton, the Sheraton and American Express, who have been with us on the way, and enabled us to lie down not too far from green pastures. Amen
May all of us who go on trips this summer get closer to the land than did the ten spies in today's Torah reading. May we bring with us eyes and hearts that are open, so that we may see, really see, where we are. May we go in strength and come back in health. And when we get home, may we find people who are willing to hear our tales and look at our pictures.
But the truth is, dear friends, that we do not have to go far to be tourists. We do not even have to take a trip. We meet people all the time who stand on the outside of their own life experiences, looking in. These are people who live separate from and unaffected by those around them, the things that happen to them and the choices before them. These are individuals who do not recognize the truth of the cliche' that "life is what happens while we are making plans."
The story is told of a young man who finished his education and started out his adult years with a great desire to live an exciting and significant life. Like many young people before him, he had grandiose expectations of accomplishing great things. The trouble was that he really did not know how to go about doing it. So he lived his life as it seemed he should, as most of us would. He fell in love with a good woman, raised a family with her, earned some money working, made some mistakes and corrected as many of them as he could. He traveled a little, read a little, made new friends and volunteered here and there.
Toward the end of his years, he dreamed that the Angel of Death approached him. "But I have not had the chance to truly live and accomplish the great things I had hoped to achieve," he complained.
The Angel of Death was puzzled and asked: "What have you been doing all these years?"
The now elderly man answered by recounting how he had only loved, raised a family, worked, helped some, made a few mistakes, traveled a bit and learned what he could, but that he had never truly understood much about his place in the world.
"But don't you see," replied the Angel of Death, "that is life!"
Too many of us live with the expectation that life is something more than our actual experience. We are like tourists standing on the outside and looking in on a journey through the challenges and opportunities of every day. We have in our mind's eye a different image of what we are supposed to do or even of whom we are supposed to be, while the real challenge is to make ourselves at home with whom and where we are.
The ten spies in this week's Torah portion teach us not to be tourists on the journey of life. Caleb and Joshua saw the Promised Land and recognized their People's future home. May each of us understand our life as our Promised Land. May we avoid the tourist trap of fearing the unfamiliar, but rather enjoy all the new experiences which our life's journey affords us.
So let me share with you again, our People's Tefillat Haderech, the prayer Jews traditionally say when we set out on a journey. Only this time, let's not think just of summer vacations, but of the journey of life.
May it be Your will, Eternal our God, and God of our ancestors, to bring us to our destination in life, in joy and in peace; and then to bring us back home again in peace. Guard us from all enemies who may lurk along the way, and protect us from all dangers that may be coming our way. Bless the work of our hands, and may we find favor and grace in Your sight and in the sight of all those whom we meet on this trip. Please hear this prayer of ours, for You are the God who listens to our prayers. Amen.
This message has benefitted from the writings of Rabbi Ron Shulman and especially Rabbi Jack Riemer.
