October 2nd: Simchat Torah
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
This is Rabbi Ostrich’s Sermon for Kol Nidre Eve:
On Rosh Hashanah, I spoke about the importance of thinking for ourselves. Tonight I want to talk to you about how our thinking can get off track, and how, to use the old expression, we can get so focused on trees that we fail to see the beauty of the forest.
Do not get me wrong: if one wants to understand the forest, knowing about the trees is important. Each individual tree is a dynamic unto itself and integral part of the forest’s ecosystem. But the details and processes of each individual tree can so occupy our minds that we fail to pay attention to the wonder and beauty of the grander vista. It is not a matter of devaluing either angle but of being aware of our mental abilities. When we go down a rabbit hole, we inevitably limit our view above ground.
For example, when we experience Kol Nidre, we could think about the legalities of the formula, its precedents and interpretations. We could think about the persecutions connected to its composition and use. We could focus our minds on the tune and compare it to other Kol Nidre’s we have heard. All are part of the depth of this tradition, but they are choices that can move us away from the spiritual. More than the words or music, Kol Nidre can be a moment of transcendence when we stand before the Holy and feel both awe and potential. As we contemplate our lives, regret our missteps, and hope for understanding and atonement, Kol Nidre can be one of the holiest moments of the Jewish year, or we can put our mental energy into other-than-spiritual paths. It is an interesting choice.
The Shema also has many levels of experience. When we read, “Ve’ahavta: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might,” we could get involved in the grammar and translations of the words. We could wonder about the practical details. “All our hearts, all our souls, all our might?” What about the other things in life? Does God expect us to do nothing but religion? We could spend a lot of time on this question —and, don’t worry, there are passages in the Talmud and Jewish philosophy where it is explored thoroughly, but what about the spiritual message? We can read these Torah words literally, or we can read them as poetry—as spiritual words inviting us into a relationship with the Divine. All of these thoughts are part of the depth of this ancient text, but we each make a choice—and that determines whether we say the holy words prayerfully or analyze them intellectually.
The problem with the human mind is that there are infinite places to pay attention and limitations on how much our heads can hold. Even if we are smart, our mental abilities are not infinite. So, whether we choose consciously or unconsciously, the things that occupy our minds determine what we think. We need details and analysis enough so that we know what is before us, but we also need the ability to step back from the details and thoughtfully appreciate what we see. We need both analysis and appreciation—and in balance.
Sometimes and in regard to certain modern political matters, this kind of balance is hard to find. Tonight, I would like to think about two of them:
(1) Patriotism, our love of these United States, and
(2) Zionism, our love of Israel.
My concern is that a lack of balance in our thinking can twist our understanding and skew our appreciation. How do we engage both analysis of the less-than-perfect and appreciation of legitimately good things? How do we separate between evaluation and joy?
First Zionism. We all know the arguments that swirl around Israel—both without and within, but why must every compliment or endorsement of Israel be preceded by caveats and admissions of imperfection? Why cannot we full-throatedly and with great and holy glee celebrate the fact that we Jews have a national homeland that is ruled by Jews and defended by Jews—a homeland that allows Jews to be and that has achieved miracles. Miracles in agriculture. Miracles in technology. Miracles in economic viability. Miracles in forming a society that includes Jews from the ארבע כנפות הארץ “four corners of the earth.” And, let us not forget, miracles in strategic survival. Israel is a wonderful and successful reality—a true and celebratable blessing, and we should thank God for Israel and all of its accomplishments and successes. What we do not need is to dampen every Am Yisrael Chai moment with “honest” caveating and rob ourselves of joy, thankfulness, and deserved accolades. The blessings are real, and we should allow ourselves full exuberance, full joy.
I wonder sometimes if we have that old Jewish fear of feeling “too good.” For fear that we might invoke a demon, we never say that the baby is cute. K’ayin hara... puh, puh puh! Bad things can and do happen, but we also need to remember that God gifts us with joyous things so that we can be joyous. As the Psalmist reminds us (Psalm 118.24): זֶה־הַיּוֹם עָשָׂה ה' נָגִילָה וְנִשְׂמְחָה בוֹ:
“This is a day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be happy in it.”
Perhaps our hesitance comes from a kind of well-learned pessimism—that the glass that some celebrate as half-full is also half-empty. It is. But looking only at the empty part of the glass can rob us of the joy of having a glass that is half-full. I see it as a matter of appreciation—of understanding the blessings amid whatever statistics we count. My prayer is that we can look at that glass half-filled and allow ourselves some joy as we drink what God has provided for us. There are times to pay attention to the half-empty part—times like Yom Kippur when we are commanded to pay attention to our inadequacies and imperfections, to look carefully and do some תְּשׁוּבָה/ repentance. But habitual negativity is not helpful, nor therapeutic, nor holy. When negativity becomes an end unto itself, it is as though we are refusing the joy that God offers us, and I can imagine God repeating the verse but making it a plea:
“Please rejoice and be happy in this day, because I have made it for you.”
We are all intelligent enough to see that some of Israel’s glasses are half-empty, but let us not be so distracted that we miss out on the fact that Israel is also a dream-come-true—a haven for our beleaguered people and a holy opportunity for Jews to put our faith’s ideals into practice. Israel is a blessing and a joy! There is greatness in Israel’s existence and in its health, and there is greatness in Israel’s potential. We should give thanks with all our hearts for Israel and its many, many blessings. As the Psalmist (23) said, despite the challenges and sadnesses of life, כּוֹסִי רְוָיָה “My cup runneth over with God’s blessings!”
Many of us suffer from a similar hesitation in regard to our Patriotism—our love of the United States. It really hit me this past year in two disparate events. In one, I attended a baseball game at Wrigley Field and sang The Star Spangled Banner with full voice and full pride. It was a glorious moment to join with the other fans and sing out to our country. But then, as our 250th Anniversary drew near, I noticed how so many columnists and speakers seemed unable to express happiness. Rather than lifting up the cup of celebration, many felt compelled to preface every single compliment or positive comment with a mea culpa about the sins we have committed, the imperfections we continue, and the work we still have to do. Much of what they say is true, but their negativity was beside the point. Could we not have had just a little joy and revel in the achievements and aspirations that are worth celebrating?! Goodness! It was the Fourth of July and not Yom Kippur!
It does not help when some try to politicize and weaponize our patriotism—or, for that matter, our Zionism. I often find myself reticent about getting too happy for fear that my loyalty will be misused for political posturing. But, is it not a shame to cede control of Patriotism—or Zionism—to one side or the other? We should be able to sing God Bless America or pledge allegiance to the flag with full hearts, reveling in the greatness and the blessings. The same thing goes for singing Hatikvah. Saving our reservations and concerns for another occasion, we have a right to celebrate and let ourselves feel joy and pride
Getting back to that baby we are scared to say is cute. Though we may fear for the future, the baby is still cute. Though we may worry, the baby is absolutely adorable. And more importantly, despite dirty diapers or a refusal to go to sleep at night, we love that baby with all our hearts. Our precious baby is wonderful and beloved and full of blessed potential. Whether Israel or the United States, our baby is beautiful and worth celebrating. זֶה־הַיּוֹם עָשָׂה ה' נָגִילָה וְנִשְׂמְחָה בוֹ:
“This is a day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be happy in it.”
One more thing about this precious baby who may be less than perfect: is this not the way God looks at us? There is judgment but also love—both true judgment and deep and abiding love. There are certainly moments of Divine disappointment, and we dedicate Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur to introspection and serious self-evaluation. We need to improve ourselves, but that does not take away from the/אַהֲבַת עוֹלָם Eternal Love that God has for us. God loves us, revels in us, hopes for us. Think about why God ordained only one day of Yom Kippur, and not 365. We repent today. We repent when we need to repent. We have a responsibility to be better, but, we should not let our imperfections disqualify us from celebrating the wonder of life, the joys of our lives, and the many other gifts that God gives us.
A concluding thought: Some people regard the notion of American Exceptionalism as a matter of anger and debate. Are we really as great as we say we are? Are we really great at all? And yet, we are great. We are exceptional. We Americans are part of one of the most important governmental and societal experiments in human history, and collectively and historically we have wrought greatness. We have established a working republic. We have extended liberty far beyond the parameters of the Founding Fathers. And we have inspired other nations and millions of hopeful immigrants. We should be proud of our exceptional nation—the exceptional principles which we try to put into practice, the exceptional achievements we have been able to bring to the world, and the exceptional potential which we hope and pray is our future. There are certainly days to evaluate and repent—days like today, but there are also days to celebrate the celebratable. When those days come, we should claim the joy and pride that we fittingly deserve.
טוֹב לְהֹדוֹת לַה'
“It is good to give thanks to the Lord.” (Psalm 92.1)
כִּי שִׂמַּחְתַּנִי ה' בְּפָעֳלֶךָ בְּמַעֲשֵׂי יָדֶיךָ אֲרַנֵּן:
It is good to find happiness in what God and God’s agents have wrought.
הַטּוֹב שִׁמְךָ וּלְךָ נָאֶה לְהוֹדוֹת.
It is good and appropriate to give credit for work well done.
זֶה־הַיּוֹם עָשָׂה ה' נָגִילָה וְנִשְׂמְחָה בוֹ:
It is good to rejoice in the blessings that God has given us.
Fully. Completely. Heartfully.