Becoming The Underdog Against Your Past Self

Parshas Yisro 5782

If you’ve ever had the need to catch a really early flight, you probably didn’t rely on an alarm clock alone. You may well have set the alarm clock on the other side of your bedroom, ensuring that you’d be forced to actually get out of bed when it would sound, rather than rolling over and hitting snooze half a dozen times. Little did you know it, but you’d actually implemented what economists refer to as a commitment device.

The need for commitment devices comes from recognizing that competing interests are constantly warring within us, each trying to best the other. Waking up on time is one example of decision making in which experts refer to the two vying personalities within as the present self and future self. The present self wants to make it to the airport with time to spare, avoiding anxiety and a need to rush. But the future self will be more tired than the present self, and will crave those extra few minutes of sleep in a way the present self can’t appreciate. The present self outsmarts the future self by making it impossible to hit snooze. 

But before jumping on the present self bandwagon, remember that it is not always so virtuous. Present self may also stay up late enjoying the party, leaving it to future self to cope with making it through the next day on too-few hours of sleep. Present self is enjoying himself; let future self deal with the fallout.

Every moment gives rise to a new self, each at war with the others. When the right one wins, we really ought to celebrate.

As Yisro makes his grand appearance at the beginning of the parsha, the Torah introduces him with a title that we’d think he’d long been itching to rid himself of:

וַיִּשְׁמַע יִתְרוֹ כֹהֵן מִדְיָן חֹתֵן מֹשֶׁה אֵת כָּל־אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה אֱלֹקים לְמֹשֶׁה וּלְיִשְׂרָאֵל עַמּוֹ כִּי־הוֹצִיא ה׳ אֶת־יִשְׂרָאֵל מִמִּצְרָיִם׃

שמות יח:א

Yisro, Priest of Midian, the father-in-law of Moshe, heard all that G-d had done for Moshe and Israel His nation when Hashem took Israel out of Egypt.

Shemos 18:2

As he looks to strengthen his ties with the Jewish People and their faith, why does the Torah emphasize his status as Kohen Midian, a priest of a foreign religion? Why mention Yisro’s sinful past at a time that he should be congratulated for his present repentance?

The Ohr Hachaim suggests that what the Torah offers is not a put-down at all, but a compliment. In describing who Yisro once was—a cleric of polytheism—it is proclaiming that his embracing of Judaism is even more remarkable than we might have given him credit for. Yisro is not only an unbiased observer who chooses to embark upon a path of monotheism. His previously held position actually gave him every reason to double down and shun Judaism, because to do otherwise would be admission of a life lived in error. For Yisro to choose otherwise is nothing short of heroic.

Overcoming oneself is a hugely challenging task, due in no small part to an unawareness of who and what the enemy is. We like to think of ourselves as consistent and integrated—people of conviction who operate, have operated, and will continue to operate by a consistent system of values.

If you’ve ever needed a commitment device, you know this isn’t quite true. And when we stand in the present and consider past behavior, we need to remind ourselves of how many times we needed to set the alarm clock on the other side of the room.

Owning up to past mistakes can feel like a terrible shot to our ego. But if we can maintain the view that our present selves and past selves are two very different beings, it becomes a lot easier. We love constructing an underdog narrative about ourselves—the circumstances we’ve overcome and the Goliaths that our David has slain. What if we applied that same narrative to our own internal selves?

If I viewed my past self as cleanly detached from my present self, I could more easily admit to yesterdays mistakes. I would revel in the opportunity to prove that my present self is the underdog who—against all odds—triumphed over who I once was. I wouldn’t need to justify my past behavior any more than needing to justify the behavior of different person altogether. “Yeah, that past version of myself made some colossal errors. But present self is developing into a much better person.”

Errors of the past can prove a wonderful gift when we process them, learn from them, and move past them. Yisro can proudly wear the mantle of Kohen Midian because the story of his past self only makes the triumph of his current self that much more astounding. We become heroes not only when we overcome external opponents, but internal ones as well. Yisro of today could walk free of Kohen Midian of yesterday, his present self untethered by his past self.

In Hilchos Teshuva, the Rambam quotes Chazal’s statement that changing one’s name can serve as a powerful pathway to repentance. The Rambam offers his own explanation as to why this is so:

וּמְשַׁנֶּה שְׁמוֹ כְּלוֹמַר אֲנִי אַחֵר וְאֵינִי אוֹתוֹ הָאִישׁ שֶׁעָשָׂה אוֹתָן הַמַּעֲשִׂים וּמְשַׁנֶּה מַעֲשָׂיו כֻּלָּן לְטוֹבָה וּלְדֶרֶךְ יְשָׁרָה

רמב׳׳ם הל׳ תשובה ב:ד

And he should change his name, as if to say, “I am another person; I am not the same one who committed those acts.” And he should completely change his behavior for the better, towards the proper path.

Rambam, Laws of Teshuva 2:4

A critical step towards success is a redefinition of self. If I am the same person who made all those poor decisions of the past, the urge to justify and double-down on those errors becomes great. But if I can see that past version of myself as someone else, I can admit to the flaws and grow past them. Mistakes of the past only make the success of the present that much more impressive.