© Rabbi Robert L. Wolkoff
Why do we celebrate our Jewish holidays? The joke goes, “They tried to kill us, we won, let’s eat.” Joking aside, though. Why do we celebrate our Jewish holidays? Our tradition teaches us that religious commemoration is important, so crucially important in fact that a week does not go by without there being an entire day devoted to it. Why?
Rabbi Elijah, the great Gaon of Vilna, explained it this way: G-d Himself stopped working, and rested, to show us that what we create becomes meaningful to us only once we stop creating it and start to think about why we did so. (Cited by Judith Shulevitz)
We do this thinking during the High Holy Days, starting in Elul with the blowing of the shofar and selichot ceremonies, and extending all the way through Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret, and Simchat Torah. This Rosh Hashanah day, this anniversary of the creation of the world, is a peak moment in that process of review. It is the perfect time to seek to understand what our place is in this world. Rosh Hashanah is Yom Hazikaron, the Day of Remembrance. “We have to remember to stop because we have to stop to remember.” (Judith Shulevitz). Now is the time to stop, so that we can remember, remember what our place is in this world.
This explains why we need special days for celebration. But why do we need a special place for celebration? Why can’t we just find a place where we feel, well, spiritual? Why can’t we go to the beach, or a picnic, or a museum? Why can’t we just relax in the privacy of our own homes, whether alone, or with our families, or, at most, with a small circle of friends? Why here? Why a synagogue?
Why? Because, if you think about it, the synagogue is the command center for everything that truly matters to you, for the values that mean the most to you. So taught my friend and colleague Rabbi Arthur Steinberg, of very blessed memory, who passed away a few months ago. It is here, the synagogue, that we come to bring out the best in us, and, ultimately, to bring out the best in the world.
Here’s an example of what I mean by “the best in the world.” There is a debate in the Talmud about exactly which sounds one should make on the shofar. Although the rabbis differ on exactly which sounds, all agree that the sounds should emulate a cry—in fact, a particular person’s cry, the cry of Sisera’s mother. If you recall, Sisera was the Canaanite general who was defeated by Deborah and Barak. The Tanach gives us an extraordinary image of Sisera’s mother, waiting with deepening anxiety for the sound of Sisera’s returning chariot. The shofar, say the rabbis, should sound like Sisera’s mother’s cry when she realizes that her child will not be returning to her.
This, my friends, is a phenomenal message. Isn’t it remarkable that the pain felt at the death of our enemy should be used as a model for our spirituality? Doesn’t it demonstrate a profound compassion for all of humanity? Is it not a masterpiece of emotional empathy, of sophisticated morality, and of passionate spirituality? Where else, besides here in this sanctuary, could one expect to find this kind of depth? And I should mention in passing that we note today the death of one of Israel’s great leaders, Shimon Peres, who truly embodied the deep embrace of the humanity of all people, even our enemies.
Abraham Lincoln, in concluding his 1st Inaugural Address, said, “The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.”
“The better angels of our nature:” Those angels live in this building.
That may seem like an audacious claim, but we Jews are known for making audacious claims. The great thinker William James, founder of the philosophical school known as pragmatism, had as a maxim, “I will act as if what I do makes a difference.” That’s what Jews have been doing for 4000 years. And we have made a difference.
We claim that the Lord of the Universe is somehow our tribal G-d—adoshem elokeinu; and, perhaps more audacious, we claim that our tribal G-d is somehow the Lord of the Universe. We claim that we are, somehow and for some reason, am habchira, the chosen people. We claim that, in ways we can barely fathom, our life and our people’s life is of extraordinary significance to the world. This is standard fare in Jewish theology. We are no strangers to audacious claims.
Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, a great Hasidic master, once put it this way: “The rule is that, although G-d created all the levels of existence, His guidance of them is according to the will of Israel: When Israel’s will is to draw G-d’s blessing upon someone, G-d lets His grace flow forth; and, when Israel’s will is that someone be judged, G-d fulfills that will and exercises judgment …Everything happens because of Israel and, indeed, by Israel is everything guided.”
It may seem hard for us to imagine that we guide the world. Particularly after the horrors of the last century, it seems almost surreal to think that Israel’s will makes any difference at all, much less determines the fate of the world. After deeper reflection, though, you will see that it is true. Broadly speaking, the values our ancestors carried with them from Sinai—the values that are enshrined in this sanctuary—have become, over the course of time, the norm for the world.
So, on this High Holy Day, on the day when it is appropriate for us to contemplate what we do and why, when we gather in this Holy Place which represents the very best of our values, it behooves us to ask: what kind of guidance have we been offering to the world?
And on this High Holy Day, when honest introspection is at a premium, it is fair to say the answer is: nowhere near good enough.
Sure, we collectively are vaguely okay, even good in a manner of speaking. Our lack of social pathology, when compared to other groups, is praiseworthy —but considering the corruption of much of American society, that isn’t really saying very much. Our community is pleasant, to be sure, the living is good enough.
But for us, for Jews, for the masters of audacity, good enough is not good enough.
On the occasion of Winston Churchill’s death, the great philosopher and political scientist Leo Strauss told his students, “We have no higher duty, and no more pressing duty, than to remind ourselves and our students, of political greatness, human greatness, of the peaks of human excellence.”
The peaks of human excellence. That is where we need to be. Not merely “good enough.” For those who have been to the peak of Sinai, “good enough” is an insult. We are drawn back to this sanctuary again and again, we rehearse repeatedly the moral and spiritual values that have shaped the world, but what do we really take with us when we leave it? What impact does it really have on our lives, and the life of the world, today?
Judaism demands of us discipline and commitment. I know that these days it is not popular to talk about such values. They sound so limiting, so authoritarian, so… judgmental. We react instinctively whenever anyone says to us that there is something that we have to do. The simple fact of the matter, though, is that you can’t dance at the Bolshoi just because you feel entitled to. You need discipline and commitment. You can’t win a Nobel Prize just because it would look good in the living room. You need discipline and commitment. You can’t have more than 3000 hits like Jeeter or strike out 200 batters a season 10 times like Seaver (notice the politically correct balance there) by playing a few rounds of fantasy baseball. You need discipline and commitment.
Now, I don’t expect any of us to be on the world stage as ballet dancers, or as great intellects, or as Hall of Fame athletes. That kind of excellence is for an elite only. In contrast, I do expect us, and, far more important, G-d expects us, each and every one of us, to be on the world stage when it comes to standing for values that matter. Our Torah, and this sacred building in which it is housed, teach us precisely that: You can be excellent, you must be excellent, when it comes to moral and spiritual values.
If you want to see what a world looks like which is not guided by excellence, well, consider the election.
Or not.
Let us spare ourselves that anguish, and focus instead on the dumbing down of American society that made the election morass possible.
The textbooks our children are using have been censored in utterly bizarre ways, with “the inevitable effect of stripping away everything that is potentially thought-provoking.” (Diane Ravitch) Ray Bradbury, the great science fiction novelist, wrote a classic description of censorship gone insane, Fahrenheit 451. He later discovered that in order to get that book quoted in textbook adaptations, his publisher “had quietly, and without his permission, removed 75 sections of” it. In our anemic intellectual world, in other words, the classic protest against censorship got censored. As Diane Ravitch has demonstrated in her stunning book The Language Police, our children are being taught about “a world that has been methodically purged of reality.” Where will this all lead? And what difference should it make to us?
Allow me to mention one example: Each textbook publisher has a checklist of concepts and terms that are considered too upsetting or inappropriate for students. Any one word on that list is enough to have a paragraph omitted from a standard text. If a writer wished to describe Auschwitz, though, such a description would be impossible without mentioning every single word on that forbidden list. And thus, a clear and honest understanding of the reality of the Holocaust has become functionally impossible in American schools. And thus begins the slippery slope into the world of trigger warnings and political correctness.
Ironically, we have allowed this unspeakable dumbing-down of our educational system at exactly that time when we are facing a devastating new phenomenon that preys on misinformation and ignorance: the infodemic, the information epidemic. Whether Zika, or terrorism, or police shootings, the pattern is the same. “A few facts, mixed with fear, speculation and rumor, amplified and relayed swiftly worldwide by (youtube and facebook) …affect national and international economies, politics and even security in ways that are utterly disproportionate with the root realities.” (David J. Rothkopf)
Just to mention one example, consider that during the Obama administration, there were in the United States 90 deaths that can be attributed to radical Islam. In the same period, approximately 264,000 Americans lost their lives to firearms. To put that in perspective, the 90 deaths attributed to radical Islam over 8 years are less than the number of women murdered by their husbands or boyfriends every 2 days. Now, you will not find a harsher critic of radical Islam than this rabbi, but nothing justifies having a completely distorted and unbalanced perspective. As much as radical Islam is a problem, and it most certainly is, the firearms epidemic presents a much clearer and more present danger to our society.
It is hard to imagine a better platform for demagogues and fanatics to practice new forms of social disruption and manipulation than infomedia. And if you think that doesn’t matter to us as Jews, imagine, for one terrifying moment, what Hitler and Goebbels could have done if they only knew how to tweet.
How do you fight an infodemic? You have to be able to see the whole picture, know what to do with the information you have, distinguish the truth before rushing into action, and above all…understand. Put another way, you have to have a grasp of reality, an intellectual acuity, and an emotional balance that can only be described as…excellent.
In other words, what you need is exactly what our society suppresses! And exactly what Judaism demands!
Excellence involves embracing the complexity of the world, and devoting the time and the energy and the depth and the commitment necessary to make a difference. Torah, when studied to the point and very edge of love, leads to excellence, and becomes a mighty fortress against the invasion of the barbarians. It is the only thing that can rescue us from a life of degradation and emptiness, the life of a prisoner trapped in America’s Funniest Home Videos, a life lived not in reality, but in, G-d help us, reality TV.
We must not fall into the same swamp of intellectual mediocrity and dullness as the society around us, not only for our own sake, but because we are the ones charged at Sinai with the responsibility of pulling the rest of the world out of that swamp.
How demeaning it is, in light of all this, in light of our need for excellence, pleading with people to devote an hour a week to the study of Torah. An hour a week? How about study every day? How demeaning it is to beg people to come to minyan once a week. Once a week? How about at every opportunity? How demeaning it is to cajole people to make a contribution to the synagogue and the other venerable charitable institutions both inside and outside the Jewish community? Make a contribution? How about living a life devoted to tzedakah?
Yidden—can you sense what we are losing?!! Shrei gevalt! If we have survived all these tumultuous thousands of years, it was through encouraging excellence, not settling for the least common denominator. Rav Kook, the great Chief Rabbi of Israel, pointed out that the Torah outlines the great lengths to which we must go in order to remain tahor, pure, and to continue our dialogue with the Almighty. The biblical sacrifice, the korban, was intended to bring us close, karov, to G-d; the slightest blemish, whether of the animal or of the heart of the person performing the sacrifice, was enough to disrupt this relationship.
Nothing less than excellence would do. So it was then, so it is now.
If you want to know what the opposite of excellence is, think about Adolph Eichmann, yemach shmo, may his memory be blotted out. He was “emblematic for contemporary evil. [He] showed that today, even crimes so immense that the earth itself cries out for retribution are committed by people with motives that are no worse than banal…the most unprecedented crimes can be committed by the most ordinary people.” (after Susan Neiman). Geniuses don’t commit mass murder. Disturbed, confused, insecure, mentally and emotionally challenged nobodies commit mass murder, in numbers proportionate to the amount of power they amass because people of excellence don’t stand in their way.
The distinguished people within the nation, wrote Rav Kook, provide sustenance and protection for the entire people. Without them, the whole nation is threatened with extinction. And the same is true as regards the people of Israel and the nations of the world. The world is desperately out of balance, and will remain so unless we do something about it. How out of balance? Half of the world’s wealth is now in the hands of just 62 people. Put another way, the richest 300 people on earth have more money than the poorest 3 billion. In Bangladesh, garment workers are paid an average of 1.6 cents to sew a baseball cap that retails in the USA for $17 (Wade Davis). There is an international network of tax havens allowing people to conceal $7.6 trillion, more than double the annual budget of the United States. Meanwhile, the majority of the world’s population has never had a phone call, let alone sent an e-mail. And not only do we live better than the poorest, we live substantially longer, about 14 years longer on average.
Oh, and one small detail I didn’t mention. According to the latest reports, the effect of rising sea level will create 600 million refugees over the next decades. Considering how poorly the world has handled a few million refugees from Syria, the future looks ominous, if not apocalyptic.
If you think all this isn’t a problem, you aren’t thinking clearly. And if you think someone else has the intellect and the dedication to tackle these world class problems, let me remind you that we live in a country where 2/3 of the population have never left the United States. For most of Americans, in other words, when they say “foreign travel” it means they’re going to Texas or Florida.
“You,” said Mahatma Gandhi, “must be the change you wish to see in the world.” Or, in the classic words of Pirkei Avot: “Lo aleicha hamlachah ligmor…” “You need not finish the work, but you must never stop.”
Does this sound arrogant? Perhaps, to the untrained ear. In reality, it is a statement of profound humility. We do not become excellent simply by virtue of being Jews. That is arrogant, and pure pretension. We become excellent through considered reflection on who we are, what we must do, and how far, how very far, we have yet to go. This day, this sanctuary, this people Israel, cry out to us: remember! Remember to stop, so that we will stop to remember! Remember the purpose for which we were created. Remember how hard we must strive. Remember that it is forbidden for us to settle for anything less than excellence in the eyes of G-d. Remember—and then do something about it, do something about it every single day, do something about it like your society and your life and the life of your children depend on it.
Because they do.