In the first blessing of the Amidah, we read: “G-d remembers the pious deeds of our ancestors and will send a redeemer to their children’s children l’ma’an sh’mo with love.”
What does l’ma’an sh’mo mean? Literally, “for the sake of His Name.” Many have found that translation problematic. Is the Master of the Universe really heart set on seeing His Name up in lights? Seems kind of petty. So there has been a tendency lately to fudge the translation. For example, our Sim Shalom standard siddur waxes eloquent and says “because of Your loving nature.”
But this is entirely necessary. Harold Kushner, in his beautiful commentary on the 23rd Psalm (“The Lord is my shepherd…”) writes as follows:
“G-d has no ego. He cares for us for our sakes, not for His….What then does it mean to say that He leads us in straight paths for His name’s (that is, His reputation’s) sake?…When we see the hand of G-d in the good things that happen to us, we come to see the world differently. We see it more hopefully, we recognize the sacred dimension of history and of our own lives. If we see the freeing of the Israelite slaves or the end of slavery in the United States as the will of G-d rather than resulting from human kindness or economic trends, then those who are enslaved today can hope for freedom because G-d is permanent while human generosity is unreliable. When we see the victory of the United States over Hitler, or the Maccabees defeating the mighty Greek army in biblical times, not only as a military outcome but as an instance of G-d giving victory to the forces of good over the forces of evil, then we can be more optimistic about the ultimate triumph of goodness in the next conflict. If we look at the times in our own lives when events led us in a roundabout path, when disappointment opened a door to fulfillment, and if we recognize the hand of G-d in those events rather than attributing them to good luck or our deserving them, then we will be more hopeful and less discouraged by the next disappointment.”
“For His Name’s sake,” in other words, is ultimately for our sake, since we need to know that G-d is involved in our lives.
If you want to contemplate the alternative, go no further than that great rabbinic scholar, Woody Allen. In Love and Death we find the following dialogue:
“BORIS: Sonja, what if there is no G-d? What if we’re just a bunch of absurd people who are running around with no rhyme or reason?
SONJA: But if there is no G-d then life has no meaning. Why go on living? Why not just kill yourself?
BORIS: Well, let’s not get hysterical, I could be wrong. I’d hate to blow my brains out and then read in the papers they found something.”
Johanna Petsche writes: “This is comparable to Ludwig Wittgenstein’s (1889-1951) conclusion to a line of metaphysical reasoning in his 1914-1916 Notebooks, “To believe in G-d means to see that life has meaning.”
Without that insight, life seems trivial indeed. Why bother? Woody Allen makes the point painfully clear in Annie Hall:
 Alvy Singer (Allen’s alter ego) is shown having an existential crisis as a little boy. His mother summons a psychiatrist, one Dr. Flicker, to find out what’s wrong.
“Why are you depressed, Alvy?” Dr. Flicker asks.
“The universe is expanding,” Alvy says. “The universe is everything, and if it’s expanding, some day it will break apart and that will be the end of everything.”
“Why is that your business?” interrupts his mother. Turning to the psychiatrist, she announces, “He’s stopped doing his homework!”
“What’s the point?” Alvy says.
“What has the universe got to do with it!” his mother shouts. “You’re here in Brooklyn! Brooklyn is not expanding!”
Dr. Flicker jumps in: “It won’t be expanding for billions of years, Alvy, and we’ve got to enjoy ourselves while we’re here, eh? Ha ha ha.”
In contrast to the “purpose driven life” which comes with believing in the divine mandates to us, the spiritually empty life offers three bleak alternatives: the mother’s incomprehension, frustration, and practical focus; Dr. Flicker’s feeble attempt to dodge the question and be satisfied with life’s little enjoyments; and Alvy’s ennui and alienation.
Put another way, a religious person never has to ask “What’s the point?” The point is living for the sake of G-d’s Name—l’ma’an shmo—and those who have experienced this know that it is indeed a gift from G-d, given with love.