A Passover reminder that we’re not perfect

Can an alcoholic dad be a positive role model? Can an ex-con join a volunteer society? Can an atheist come to a Passover Seder? The answer to all of these is yes, absolutely. As a rabbi, I’m often asked whether the individual positive acts we do are worthwhile when framed on a backdrop of actions that don’t fit with these values. I point them toward Moses, the greatest leader of the Jewish people. When G-d asked him to demand of Pharaoh that he free the Jewish people from their ancient Egyptian enslavement, Moses demurred at first. “I am of closed lips,” he said, “how will Pharaoh hearken to me?” Moses had a lisp; hardly the mark of a charismatic orator.

He didn’t lead the Jewish people to freedom because of it — he led them in spite of it.

I’m reminded of Winston Churchill, whose British soldiers liberated my grandmother from the Bergen-Belsen Nazi concentration camp at the end of World War II. Churchill is said to have had many vices. None of his perceived shortcomings helped him save the lives that he did, but they also didn’t stop him.

According to a 2014 Pew research study, 70 percent of all Jews attend a Passover Seder. Pretty amazing, seeing as the same study found that only 53 percent fasted on Yom Kippur, and 22 percent keep kosher. Nearly half of all Jewish people don’t observe what are considered key precepts, and yet will make a point of attending a Seder.

Are they hypocritical? I say no. What better time than Passover to remember that our journey to freedom — and the man who led us there — are emblematic of this very concept: We don’t have to do everything right to do good.

The Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson of righteous memory, taught that everyone can contribute to the betterment of themselves — and others — regardless of their standing. Whatever knowledge we have, we must impart to the other, regardless of what we don’t know. Whatever positive actions we can take, we should take, regardless of what we can’t do. We cannot allow our shortcomings to preclude our advancement.

On Passover, the Jewish people celebrate our birth as a nation. We’re not perfect — everyone has their challenges, some more egregious than others. But we don’t let that stop us from doing good.

We may not be perfect, but neither was Moses.