Behaalotekha
Numbers 8:1-12:16
Zechariah 2:14-4:7
Moses is depicted as “a very humble man, more so than any other man on earth” (Numbers 12:3) in Behaalotekha, this week’s Torah portion. He earned this designation because he championed the cause of the poor and never used his accomplishments to enhance his own stature. Moses’ demeanor is even more remarkable when contrasted to that of Pharaoh: “Thus says the Lord, the God of the Hebrews, ‘How long will you refuse to humble yourself before Me?'” (Exodus 10:3). Pharaoh’s self-importance, the antithesis of Moses’ humility, bids students of the Torah to consider the factors that constitute an individual’s reputation.
Unfortunately, it is not uncommon for some people to want others to see them as they are not. They disregard what it takes to earn a reputation and search for the fast track to praise and adulation. Not long ago, a Menlo Park real estate executive claimed to have been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor as a Korean War fighter pilot who swooped into enemy territory under intense hostile fire to save the lives of 152 Marines and soldiers. His claim was unmasked as a patent fraud.
It is not uncommon for impostors to claim to be one of the 157 living recipients of the Medal of Honor. Even though the list of honorees is readily available, it still does not stop charlatans from claiming the prize.
Paul Bucha, a legitimate medal winner who is president of the Congressional Medal of Honor Society, received his award for action in Vietnam in 1968. He explained the rationalization for such behavior: “America has put such a premium on winning that people think their normal lives and self-images are not good enough.”
Genuine medal winner Mitchell Paige has made it his life’s mission to expose Medal of Honor impostors — 500 of them in the last 40 years. In 1995, the FBI tracked down the source of illicit medals, the government contractor that produced the genuine medals of making more than 300 unauthorized sales of bogus medals. Those medals, reportedly sold by the contractor for $75 each, were often resold for $500 at flea markets and memorabilia shows.
Fraudulent medal winners are not the only impostors to have been unveiled recently. Last year, a young journalist wrote a moving, personal account of her struggle with cancer. When the story was exposed as a fabrication, she explained her behavior with yet another lie, saying she feared being ostracized if people knew that her real disease was AIDS. Her compound lies led to her resignation and personal disgrace.
Recent invented news accounts have included the following: a philanthropist, successful businessman and ambassador who embellished his war record, resulting in disinterment from Arlington National Cemetery; a disgraced California U.S. District Court judge who fabricated an inspirational story about a murdered sibling; the Navy’s highest-ranking officer, who committed suicide when it was discovered that two combat decorations had not been earned; and another journalist who concocted a Pulitzer Prize-winning story about a child heroin addict.
Ferdinand Waldo DeMara Jr., who inspired the movie “The Great Impostor,” carried resumé embellishment to extremes. DeMara borrowed the names and credentials of other people, and assumed many different personas, including those of a prison warden, a philosophy professor and even a surgeon.
Why do people want to appear as something they are not? Are their self-images so poor that ordinary lives are not good enough? Do individuals fall into the trap of resumé embellishment because, in order to feel good abut themselves, they need to convince others of what they would like to be rather than who they really are? Not an uncommon problem, it is estimated that fully one-third of all curricula vitae contain some degree of creative writing.
While Jewish tradition champions humility, it also recognizes how easy it is to fall into the trap of self-aggrandizement. It is much more difficult to work on changing ourselves than it is to create a myth about ourselves. While most mortals are neither saints nor sinners, there must be a balance between self-absorption and humility and a way to feel worthwhile without having to become an impostor.
Rabbi Bunam’s caution to his disciples serves as a guidepost: “Everyone should have two pockets so that he can reach into one or the other, according to his needs. In the right pocket should be the words, ‘For my sake the world was created,’ and in the left, ‘I am but dust and ashes.'”
These statements are worth considering when we feel the need to portray ourselves as something we are not.