Parshat Yitro: There’s No Going Back
In around May of 1979 William Lyon Mackenzie King Collegiate, my high school, had its prom. I wanted to take Helen Cheskes to the prom but someone beat me to the punch and I was stuck asking Hedy Hambourg – a lovely young lady and probably more in my league than Helen.
I was starting to get more serious about my Judaism around that time and was trying to keep Shabbat as best I could. The prom was on a Saturday night, and I recall waiting for the sun to set before I would leave home and arrive late. I wasn’t aware at the time that Shabbat really ended a bit later but I was doing the best I could balancing both worlds of my life.
As it turned out, the drive to the prom was the highlight of the evening. With no disrespect to Hedy, there is only one thing that I really recall about that night. And that was driving my older brother, Reuben’s 1978 Chevy Camaro there. It was a far cry from the 2-door Honda Civic that me and brother Murray shared, which my father fondly referred to as a Japanese Death Trap after a small fender-bender crushed it. No, this vehicle was a whole different beast. And beast it was. Slung in the low-lying bucket seats, the hood seemed to go on forever past the dash. The deep, revving, rumbling growl from the V8 engine was no tinny Honda Civic. This was the epitome of American Muscle Car and I was King of the Road.
All of this comes to mind because just a few short weeks ago, Karen and I along with Avital and Batsheva were at Hawks Cay Resort in Duck Key. I took my bike for a ride off the resort, over the bridge to tool around and look at the beautiful homes overlooking the waters of Florida Bay. I turned a corner and there she was – in all her glory in front of one of the homes. No, not Helen Cheskes, a Camaro – not unlike the one Reuben had. It was gorgeous. I got off my bike and took a couple pics of it and sent them to the Nightingale Family Chat with this comment: “Uncle Reuben’s old Camaro (Never should have sold it.)”
A few minutes later Reuben responded with something quite profound. It wasn’t “Yeah that was a great car.” Or “They don’t make ‘em like they used to.” Or “It’s a shame we didn’t hold onto it.” No nothing of the sort. He simply said, “Everything in its time.”
So true.
Everything in its time. Everything has its time and everything has its purpose and once it’s gone, it’s gone. Don’t lament, don’t regret, don’t look back, don’t talk about the “good old days”. King Solomon in Kohelet says: אַל־תֹּאמַר֙ מֶ֣ה הָיָ֔ה שֶׁ֤הַיָּמִים֙ הָרִ֣אשֹׁנִ֔ים הָי֥וּטוֹבִ֖ים מֵאֵ֑לֶּה כִּ֛י לֹ֥א מֵחׇכְמָ֖ה שָׁאַ֥לְתָּ עַל־זֶֽה Do not say, “How was it that former times were better than these?” For that is not a question that arises from wisdom. Everything in its time.
Last week’s parsha started off by telling us that when God finally led the Jewish nation from its bondage of Egypt, He took them on a circuitous route to avoid war. He knew the fragile psyche of the nation and that, should they confront war, they would wish to retreat and head back to Mitzrayim/Egypt. Going through the split sea and seeing the dead Egyptians washed up onto the shore and Egypt in the rear-view mirror should have shown them that it’s time to move forward.
But it didn’t. Alas the Israelites could not take to heart my brother, Reuben’s wisdom: Everything in its time. Egypt had a purpose, it had a place. The Israelites went from a clan of 70 to a vibrant nation during those 210 difficult years. But there’s no turning back. No looking over one’s shoulder of what was. There is only going forward. Onward and Upward to Mount Sinai to receive the 10 Commandments and the Torah, as recounted in this week’s parsha.
And the same can be said about Israel today. Say what you will about President Trump and his wacky statements about clearing out Gaza from its rubble and people, and turning it into a Mediterranean Riviera, he has gotten the ball rolling. He has started the conversation. He has made the point that all the plans, treaties, ideas and offers for the Palestinians in the last 75 years have gone nowhere. It’s time to think outside the box and try something different. As secretary of state, Marco Rubio said when faced with all the hemming and hawing about Trump’s statements, “Donald Trump is the only one who’s stood up and said, ‘I’m willing to help do it’. All these other leaders, they’re going to have to step up. If they’ve got a better idea, then now is the time.”
I don’t know what the solution will be with Gaza, nor do I know if Trump’s plan is realistic or not. But none of that matters. Because one thing is clear: We’re not going back. We’re not going back to what was. Israel isn’t going to walk out of Gaza so Hamas can build new tunnels and rearm. We’re not going back to Hezbollah in Southern Lebanon. We’re not going back to Syria being the highway for Iranian arms. We’re not going back to Iran being a power-broker in the region. That’s all over.
Everything in its time. Everything has its purpose and place. But nothing lasts forever. Not Camaros from the 70’s. And certainly not failed policies that jeopardize Jewish lives. That time is gone. There’s no going back.
Standin’ in the shadows
The man I used to be
Wanna go back
Can’t go back, can’t go back
Melodies awaken
Sorrows from their sleep
Wanna go back
Can’t go back, can’t go back
– Fleetwood Mac
