Living A Values-Driven Life (Rosh Hashanah 5776 Evening Sermon, 9/13/15)
Thu, September 24, 2015
There are many sins that we atone for during the High Holy Days and our prayerbook provides us with lists of them over the next Ten Days of Repentance. I stand here before you tonight, confessing to breaking one of the Ten Commandments a lot this past year: “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s house.” As they put up the church next door, with each beam and room, I had building envy. I am so happy for Pastor Speight and our wonderful neighbors of Christ Church, and grateful for the friendship of faith that we are creating. But, I confess that I envy their new building—its newness and square footage, daily, especially with each repair we have had to make on this building over the past year.
And as I approached the writing of this sermon, I have continued to sin, as I envied the answers that Pastor Rick Warren gives his over 32 million readers, as they seek to find a “Purpose Driven Life.” When he asked people, thirteen years ago, to answer the question, “What on earth am I here for?” He offered a path to a life with purpose and meaning through faith.
I respect that answer. And yet, I recognize, that because we are Jews, I can’t give most of you a faith-based answer to that question. You also seek to know why you are here on earth, but I can’t just say, “God and the Torah are your purpose and the reason you are here.” For most of you, that answer won’t ring true, or just won’t be enough.
I have always loved the title of Rick Warren’s successful book, “The Purpose Driven Life. It is, after all the best selling non-fiction hard back in history, according to his website. Warren’s California Saddleback church gets, on average, 20,000 people every Sunday. It is welcoming and there are things we can learn from it.
Warren is a dear friend of the Reform Movement. Reform Judaism has taken pages from his philosophy on the welcoming church. It was his idea to have greeters and think about the kind of welcome you put forth as people arrive to pray. He even reserves parking for newcomers, and his greeters start out in the parking lot. (Oh, I have parking lot envy, too. How I wish none of you had to shuttle here, from that big, brand new parking lot next door!)
There are things I will never be able to teach or expect contained in Warren’s book, just because we are Jews. So, I proposed to our LIFE committee, that our TBS adult education program this year be the topic, “Living a Values Driven life.” I suggested this topic, as a way of taking Pastor Warren’s premise and making it Jewish.
For Warren, a purpose driven life is first and foremost a life about something greater than yourself, which he answers is God and a strong faith community. For Jews, a purpose driven life is also about something greater than yourself, but the journey, the drive, so to speak, is very personal. Warren has the same answer for everyone. As Jews, we all have different answers, but what we do share is the means by which we arrive at those answers. I would propose that the way we find our purpose is through values.
We, too, ask ourselves, “Why am I here? What is my purpose? How can I find meaning in my life?” Most of us know that the things that occupy our time each day, even when they are important, often don’t provide us with the kind of meaning we seek. They may provide us with money, education, exercise, connection, nourishment, socialization, or support, but meaning often eludes us.
For the past 5776 years, our meaning has come through practice. We practice Judaism, however one might define that, in order to give meaning to our lives. Baby namings and brises, Bar and Bat Mitzvahs, even funerals, offer us moments of meaning, and anchor our lives in something greater than ourselves, connecting us to a rich past and heritage that has nourished and sustained our people for centuries. Even Jews who may not live as Jews each day are still choosing to die as Jews. How I wish we could better communicate our values so that they would have sought to live as Jews, as well.
Our calendar and its holidays fill our lives with occasions that gather families and congregations for celebration, reflection and remembrance, and most of all connection and continuity. In our “throw away, Snapchat, Instagram” world, I won’t remember yesterday’s text message or Bitmoji, but I can still remember the Purim carnivals of my childhood, the thrill of finding the afikomen for the first time, and my panic when my matzah balls came out too hard that ShabbatI made them for Gary in 1975. I know how important it has been throughout my life to have a congregation to say Kaddish with me, or to know that a Mi Shebeirach was being said for me, or someone I care for.
Everyone, Jewish and non-Jewish, who comes through our doors, is seeking to be a better person and to leave here inspired to live a meaningful and fulfilling life. We all want to feel welcome and accepted. That is why we uphold, as a core principle, the value of hachnasat orchim, welcoming the stranger, just as Abraham welcomed the visitors who came to his tent each day.
We come from all walks of life, and we are all different ages and religions, but what unites us is that we all care about making this world a better place and living a life that embodies the values we cherish. Won’t you add your most important value to the wall in our lobby, tonight or tomorrow?
At the core of all of the commandments and values of Judaism are a few basic principles, primary of which are the fact that every life is sacred and created in God’s image, b’tzelem elohim, and that our purpose as sacred living beings is tikkun olam, the value that teaches us that it is our job to repair our broken world, to make the world a better place.
Whether you believe that the value of tikkun olam comes from God and Torah, or generations of Jews who lived moral lives, or a personal code of ethics that you have chosen for yourself, there can be no debate that when we do for others, we end up doing for ourselves by adding a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment to our lives, that we could not attain if we only focused on the self.
In addition to practice, we have sought meaning through study. As Jews, the Torah has always been the guidebook for leading a moral and purposeful life. For most of Jewish history, our ancestors looked to the Torah to find answers, “What does God want me to do?” “How does the Torah teach me how to live my life?”
These are the most important questions driving my life each day. I never stop asking these Jewish questions, for whenever I do, I fall short and make mistakes that could have been prevented had I stayed on the path God has set out. For me, when I stay focused and keep reminding myself that I work for God and that God has a better plan for my life than I do, then I am a nicer, kinder, more generous, and happier person, as a result, and so are the people around me.
And yet, I realize that the Jewish landscape has changed. In today’s world, most Jews are not asking these traditional questions. There are many good Jews, and good people, who are not motivated by God or commandments, practice or learning, as they seek to do good in our world and are on their own personal quest to find fulfillment.
Instead, the question more likely to be asked is “How can I find the meaning of life?” In the “new Jewish selfhood,” what Jews have done, or asked, or believed in the past is less important than addressing the questions, What can Judaism do for me?” And, why should I even care?
Modern Jewish “selfhood” has come about as a result of the complete acculturation of Jews and acceptance of Jews in our society. Those who study modern Jewish life have marveled at the fact that what Jews do, rather than what we say or believe, determines how Jewish we are. Reform Judaism forsaw this change coming over a century ago, when the word “mitzvah” was transformed from God’s command to a self-initiated and enacted “good deed.”
For those who leave out the Judaism in their personal quest to improve the world and their lives, but still identify as Jews or Jewish, I would propose that Jewish values are the best way of getting answers to your life’s questions. I am confident that spending these High Holy days, and the coming year, exploring and sharing Jewish values, and sharing with one another the values that guide our everyday lives, that you will find that the things that are most important to you are grounded in our Judaism, and are found in the multitude of ideas and books that Jews have used to guide our lives for over 3000 years. Why reinvent a wheel that has been rolling along, successfully, in good times and bad, for millennia?
But, what makes a value Jewish?
Jews? Sometimes, but not always. There are choices Jews make and things Jews do, that are not Jewish and do not reflect Jewish values. But, there are times that the world has looked at the way Jews live, how philanthropic we have been, how committed to education, even how we use comedy at tragic moments, and because so many Jews embrace that value, it does become Jewish.
Does the Torah make a value Jewish? Yes. Most of the time. But, the Torah must be learned, interpreted and adapted in each generation. Without a knowledge and ongoing connection to Torah, it is hard for Torah to inform and drive one’s values. And, regrettably, in the hands of some Jews, the Torah has been misrepresented as a document promoting hatred and bigotry. Nothing could be farther from the truth.
Does God make something a Jewish value? More likely, God, or a belief in God, encourages all humans to have values. We have minds inclined to God and religious expression, so that we might seek practices and precepts that enable all of us to live more harmoniously, generously, and peacefully. At Yom Kippur, I will be sharing the brain research that supports this premise. The danger, of course, is when humans try to impose their version of what they think God wants. I can’t believe God wants the children of Syria to die, half of its population to become refugees, or its ancient ruins to be destroyed. Whenever people use God or religion for political or selfish aims, we all lose a bit of our humanity and God is diminished in our world.
Does our past, what Jews have done and believed throughout the centuries, make a value Jewish? Sometimes, yes. We are survivors. All of us.
In the true story told in the movie Woman in Gold, Maria Altmann seeks to reclaim the painting of her beloved Aunt Adele stolen by the Austrian Nazis. It would seem a simple idea to return what rightfully belonged to an old woman who lost everything to the inhumanity of the Holocaust. But the Austrian government added insult to injury by refusing to grant her restitution.
The young Jewish lawyer who mortgaged his home, and put his life and career on hold to help Maria Altmann, felt the tug of the Holocaust as a moral obligation to right a wrong perpetrated not just against one woman, but against all Jews. Our history informs our zealous passion for justice, challenges our compassion and capability for forgiveness, and calls us not just to be inheritors of our sacred past, but the legators of the Jewish future.
As has happened many times in my life, I found that the Jewish value oftzedek, justice, was so powerful, that there was no forgiveness in my heart for the perpetrators of Maria’s pain, not the Austrian Nazis of WWII and not the Austrian government of fifteen years ago. Both were selfish and heartless thieves. I live by the value that there is right and wrong. Evil, consciously perpetrated, is never just or excusable. We are put on earth to do right and to right wrongs. But, I also know that even when Justice prevails, the heart can still be broken, as the victim remains weary of the fight for right, or burdened with memories that remain.
Values, Jewish or otherwise, are not neutral, nor are they present in our lives just one at a time. They can run deep into the core of our existence and psyche, and two values can be Jewish and in conflict at the same time, like justice and forgiveness. For some, shalom bayit, family harmony, supercedes the value of Jewish continuity. Our values can present some of the greatest challenges of our lives.
On this Day of Remembrance, this Yom HaZikaron, we are so very conscience that our history and our collective pain informs our value of justice for others who now suffer in our world, and demands our allegiance to all that our people has fought and died for.
As a minority that has endured endless persecution, we have prevailed despite all odds. This prompted Mark Twain to write in September of 1897: “All things are mortal but the Jews; all other forces pass, but he remains. What is the secret of his immortality? ” I believe the secret of our immortality is the values that guide our lives.
Does what a given Jewish community agrees upon determine Jewish values? Absolutely. Tonight is Rosh Hashanah, and it is the beginning of our new year. Our presence here speaks to the value of living on a Jewish calendar, of giving ourselves over, as a community, to the Torah’s time. When you don’t go to work or school tomorrow, you are saying to the world that you live on Jewish time OR that you respect those who do live on Jewish time, so you are staying home in support of all Jews who have a hard time explaining, here in Virginia, why one Jew is showing up for school or work and another says that he can’t be anywhere but temple, with family and community. Belonging to a community carries with it the value of Jewish responsibility and that responsibility goes beyond self. We have a responsibility to one another. I applaud all of the students who are staying home tomorrow to show the world that you uphold this precious value.
We live in an age of selective Jewishness for many people. As Prof. Arnold Eisen notes in his thought provoking book, Rethinking Modern Judaism, many “non-believing” Jews, “have continued to hold Passover seders, fast on Yom Kippur, and to circumcise their newborn sons…” I am thankful that many Jews still feel the need to bring in the Jewish New Year with other Jews, in addition to eating matzah ball soup, or sharing apples and honey with round challah.
We want Judaism to be available to everyone. But, in the new Jewish landscape, there is an idea that if we make things free and accessible people will be drawn to Judaism. I feel strongly that it is unfair to expect others to make sure there is a Judaism, or a synagogue, or a rabbi for you. As our tagline states: “It is a blessing to belong,” –and a welcoming congregation means that you are welcome to share the responsibility, as well as the blessings.
Yet, faced with competing pressures, Jews continue to make decisions about practice and affiliation based less upon the traditional obligations to observe, belong, and support the greater Jewish world, and more upon life choices based upon a host of personal preferences. Many modern Jews are sorting through Judaism like people go through their closets, discarding what they no longer want and what may no longer be fashionable, in favor of what is easy and convenient, and a good fit for their lifestyle or pocketbook.
Moses Mendelssohn, the great Jewish thinker of the 18th century Jewish Enlightenment cared deeply about the changing landscape of a Judaism entering modernity. In the ending of his book Jerusalem he says,
“Adapt yourselves to the morals and the constitution of the land to which you have been removed, but hold fast to the religion of your fathers.”
Mendelssohn saw the future, and feared that acceptance, assimilation, and acculturation could undermine the foundation of Judaism itself. Sadly, none of Mendelssohn’s grandchildren ended up as Jews. There comes a point when the non-Jewish choices Jews make render them and their descendents non-Jews, and literally kill the Jewish future for an entire family line, even as those same Jews sometimes choose to hold on to a select group of Jewish values.
Pastor Warren begins his book by telling his audience, “It’s not about you.” He continues, “The purpose of your life is far greater than your own personal fulfillment, your piece of mind, or even your happiness. It’s far greater than your family, your career, or even your wildest dreams or ambitions.” When youbegin with the self, asking, “What do I want to be? What should I do with my life? What will make me happy? What do I need?” you get a different set of answers than if you start with “It’s not about me.”
Parents learn that it’s not about us, the minute a child is born. It is in our parental DNA. We go without, so that our children will have — whether that is material things, sleep, vacations, a shower, or even personal time or professional fulfillment. Putting a child first is a parental priority and obligation. Sacrificing for a child, or an aging parent, or a value, or cause you are committed to, is what makes us human in the truest sense of the word.
Teaching a child to be a mensch, to do mitzvahs, to care about others, and to put others before one’s own needs and wants, and to make Judaism a real priority in study and action has always been the obligation of Jewish parents. Indulging the “I,” and the values it engenders, in a world of “iPhone, iPad, I want, I need,” doesn’t build character or mitzvah-doing mensches, does it? We build and believe and belong not just for ourselves, but for those who come after us, l’dor vador, from generation to generation. And we do that by living our values by example.
What would your family and friends say is the driving value of your life? What do you want it to be?
Many Jewish values are also values of other faiths and traditions. But, as Jews, we add meaning to them by infusing them with our history and our unique journey through time; with our faith and our traditions. Values, through a Jewish lens, add a sense of communal, as well as personal, purpose and continuity. When, as Jews, we live a values driven life, we have a foundation on which to base our decisions, allocate our time, use our resources, and secure our future. (Last line paraphrased from Warren p. 31)
Last year, we committed to intensify our fight against local hunger, and we succeeded beyond my wildest dream. This year, we will explore the multitude of Jewish values and their meaning. Each Jewish value will help us come closer to finding personal purpose and communal connection, and will hopefully help us to repair our world, as well.
Don’t let the Hebrew put you off as we give the values Hebrew names. But, we need to realize that charity is not tzedakah. The Jewish value of giving comes from the Hebrew root for “justice,” tzedek. We give to others because it is the ‘right’ and ‘just’ thing to do, not because we need praise or a tax deduction. Tzedakah is not just about money. It is a mindset that demands of us financial sacrifice, sensitivity to the needs of others, doing and volunteering, and a sense of obligation. Tzedakah demands ears that hear the cries of suffering and the silence of need, and a heart that responds to that suffering or need generously.
When Jews look to the Torah, and even God, to guide our lives, we are seeking values greater than ourselves in order to create, sustain, and maintain the greater good, not just for our world, but for ourselves, as well. Our values are a sacred inheritance, a birthright and a privilege, that has enabled individual Jews to find meaning and purpose from generation to generation.
Permit me to end with a story.
A group of Chassidim came to study with their rebbe and found him sitting and weeping. They tried to console him.
“Why are you crying?” they asked.
“When I was a young man, he said, “I thought I could change the world, so I set out to try. That’s how I learned that the world is a very difficult thing to change.”
“When I turned thirty, I decided that it was just as important for me to perfect my small corner of the world, so I place all my energies into trying to improve my community and my students. That’s how I learned that communities and classes cannot be made perfect.”
“At the age of forty, I set about to change just my family. I spent hours and hours with my wife and my children, trying to make my family perfect. But, I learned that even families cannot be perfected.”
“When I reached my maturity, I realized that there was only one who would listen to the lessons I had been place in the world to teach, so I set out to perfect myself. But, now I know that even that is beyond my powers.”
The students were afraid. If even the rebbe, their great rabbi and teacher, could not perfect himself, what chance did they have? They turned to consoling him even more. “Rebbe, you have become a tzaddik, a righteous and holy man. What you do is just and right. You should not mourn because you are not perfect. After all, God doesn’t ask us to be perfect. Only God is perfect.”
“No,” said the rebbe, “you misunderstand. I am not weeping because I am sad. I am weeping because of the great blessing God has granted me.”
“We don’t understand, rebbe. What blessing is that?” the students asked, totally confused at this point.
The rebbe answered, “All through my life, God has given me the strength to try. At each step of my life, I have been blessed to take and explore the Jewish values of the Torah and our tradition to make the world, my world, a better place. I cry with joy for being given all these years in which to live this amazing journey.”
May God grant each of you the years to take your amazing journey, one challenge, one change, and one value at a time. Shanah Tovah.
With gratitude to the most important sources that helped me conceptualize this sermon:
Rick Warren. The Purpose Driven Life: What on earth am I here for?. Zondervan. 2002
Arnold M. Eisen. Rethinking Modern Judaism: Ritual, Commandment, Community. Chicago University Press. 1998
Final Story:
Adapted from a tale of Rabbi Chaim of Zans as told in Buber’s Later Masters, p. 214, which I found in
Seymour Rossel, The Essential Jewish Stories, Ktav, 2011