Rabbi 360

Monty the Giant Schnauzer won “Best in Show” at the Westminster Dog Show this past week, the preeminent dog competition. He is thus the top dog for the coming year. A number of years ago, I wrote about the spiritual lessons from dog shows, and I feel compelled to write about them again.

At Westminster and other similar dog shows, All recognized dog breeds are assigned to one of seven groups of similar type (“hound,” “sporting,” “non-sporting,” “toy,” “working,” “terrier,” “herding”). Dogs compete by breed, and the dog that is deemed the best example of that particular breed is declared the winner. Those winners then go on to compete against the other breeds of their group, and the winner of each group competes against each other to see who is determined best of show.

The spiritual lesson comes from this structure. One might think, how can different dog breeds compete against each other, seeing that they are all so different? How can a Shih Tzu be compared to a German Shepherd to determine which is a better dog?

But that is not how dogs are judged. They are not competing against each other, they are competing against themselves. It’s not that a Shih Tzu is being compared to a German Shepherd, but rather what is being judged is whether the Shih Tzu is a better example of a Shih Tzu than the German Shepherd is of a German Shepherd. Monty was not only the best Giant Schnauzer, but he was also the best of his breed more so than the other dogs were the best of their breeds.

In the Torah this week we read of the revelation at Sinai, when the Israelites, newly freed from Egyptian slavery, received the Torah from Moses and God. The Torah was to be the system of laws and behaviors that was to guide the new community after living for hundreds of years under Egyptian bondage. The intent of the Torah was to create both righteous and holy community, and righteous and holy individuals. In other words, the Torah is meant to be a guide for us to become our best selves.

Thus the lesson of the Torah and of Monty are not that far off: our spiritual charge is to be the best us we can be. We often have tendencies to compare ourselves to others, and judge our worth based on what we see in others. We desire to model ourselves after what others are or have. Part of why I felt compelled to revisit this lesson from dog shows is because these feelings grow stronger in the age of social media, especially among youth. We see others’ often curated life and end up feeling down about ourselves. Our challenge is to see ourselves for the righteous and holy selves that we are; not to be like others, but be like ourselves.

One of my favorite Hasidic stories is the one of Rabbi Zusha of Hanipol. At the end of his life, he was surrounded on his death bed by his students, family, and community. And yet he was full of anguish. His students asked him why he was so distraught, pointing out that he led a rich life, was learned and pious, and a wonderful leader. Surely he had no regrets. In response to their query Rabbi Zusha said, “I am distraught because when I end up meeting the Holy Blessed One, God is not going to ask me, ‘Zusha, why where you not more like Moses?’ Rather, God will ask, ‘Zusha, why were you not more like Zusha.’”

It’s not surprising too that the Ten Commandments that we read as part of this week’s portion includes a prohibition against coveting. Zusha can’t be Moses, but he can be the best Zusha. Monty the Giant Schnauzer can’t be a pug, but he can be the best Giant Schnauzer.

We can only be ourselves. So let us strive to be our best selves.