Centering Judaism, Part I: Finding the Joy
Jewish life is fundamentally joyful. Rosh HaShanah, Day 1.
Shanah tovah! Welcome to 5785!
I think that, no matter how you slice it, 5784 was a pretty awful year for the Jews. So I would like everybody to take a big, deep breath in, hold it for a second, and let it go.
Now, once again.
Take a moment to reflect back. Think about what has transpired in Israel over the past year. Think about what has taken place in this country, on college campuses, in public protests which often included anti-Jewish speech. Think about the graffiti, the intimidation, the horrible, painful language coming from Israel’s critics. Think about the hostages, most of whom were Jews held captive only because they were Jews, and some of whom were murdered for being Jewish.
And ask yourself a question: what can you do to make this next year, 5785, be a better year for the Jews, if not for the world?
Allow me to suggest a tool which is right under your nose: Judaism. Our is an ancient framework, which is your birthright, and will make you a better person and improve our world. Our tradition brings real value to our lives: in times of happiness, in times of grief, through the quiet moments and the noisy ones, through the dull and exciting parts of our days.
And yes, you have heard me say this before. But that’s my job!
In this most tumultuous time, when so many of our assumptions about living here in America have been upended, now is the time to make Judaism – Jewish practice, Jewish life, Jewish text, Jewish peoplehood – a focal point; that is, to “center” Judaism. We have so many pursuits that it is often easy to forget the one at our fingertips which brings us the full palette of benefits which Judaism offers. Given all that we have faced in the past year, now is the time to recommit, to up your game.
Over these holidays, I will explore the theme of “Centering Judaism.”
Today (the first day of Rosh HaShanah) we will focus on the joy found at the center of Jewish life.
Tomorrow, the value of Conservative Judaism as the ideological center of American Judaism.
At Kol Nidrei, we will explore the significance of Israel as the center of the Jewish world.
And on Yom Kippur day, the supreme importance of being in the center, of moderation in all things.
***
Over the course of the last year, I received what I consider to be the best compliment I have ever received in my rabbinic career. It came, strangely enough, in the context of shiv’ah, from a member of this congregation, who was among the bereaved. He told me that he really appreciated that, in doing my work as your rabbi, I display the joy in Jewish life.
I slept well that night.
Radiating joy is a central plank of my mission as your humble spiritual leader. The world, after all, is full of plenty of awful stuff, and I want your Jewish experience to be uplifting. In fact, it is almost mandatory to find joy, even when that is difficult, and to do so in the grounded, meaning-filled context of our ancient rituals and wisdom.
And let’s face it: we are suffering from an overload of pain and misery and awfulness. Nearly every organization that has an objective - political, fundraising, even commercial - likes to hit the “Fear” button. Think of the messages with which we are continually bombarded: “Illegal immigrants are stealing our jobs!” “Evil men are controlling women’s bodies!” “Unemployment is at record levels!” “Obesity is at record levels!” “Global warming is threatening humanity!” “Antisemitism is at record levels!” I am of course guilty of leaning into that last one. (Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get us!)
One way that we have historically responded to all the misery of Jewish life is through humor.
There is a classic rabbinic story of a certain Mr. Goldberg, who brings his dog Rokhl to synagogue. Rokhl wears a kippah and a tallit and holds a siddur open as she sings joyously along with the congregation. At kiddush, the rabbi comes over to Mr. Goldberg, who is sitting with the dog Rokhl, while the two of them are quietly enjoying some gefilte fish and khreyn. The rabbi says, “I’m absolutely amazed by your dog! She knows how to read Hebrew and daven! She should be on television!”
“You tell her,” said Mr. Goldberg. “She wants to be a doctor.”
Let’s face it: most of us do not look to the synagogue to find moments of joy. Some of that has to do with the fact that the most well-attended synagogue services of the Jewish year are on these High Holidays, when we are not emphasizing joy so much as sin and punishment and confession and of course fasting and afflicting our souls and introspection. And sure, those things are important. I would not want to be a part of a religious tradition that only embraces the joyful, because where is the depth in that?
An outside observer who only shows up for these days might be misled to believe that we emphasize the self-denial and soul-affliction far too much, at the expense of the joy. On the contrary: we cannot sacrifice the joy in Jewish life on the altar of atonement and contrition.
Something that the pious dog Rokhl knows that some of us often miss is that yes, while the synagogue is a place in which we pray for our souls on these holy days, it is also the center of Jewish joy. Here we not only celebrate lifecycle events, holy, happy moments like benei mitzvah and baby-namings and aufrufs, but we also mark the most jubilant days of the year, Simḥat Torah and Purim and Sukkot and Ḥanukkah. And we do it all in the context of community, of bringing people together for a holy purpose.
And then there’s the joy of engaging in the intellectual give-and-take of Judaism. While one negative stereotype that many people have about religion is that it encourages “blind faith” or requires you to check your reason at the door, the exact opposite is true of Judaism. Our tradition trains us to think, investigate, and challenge, and as I am sure you know, there is a certain delight that Jews take in arguing. Ours is the tradition of “maḥloqet leshem shamayim,” disagreement for the sake of Heaven (see Pirqei Avot 5:17).
And for those who commit to it on a regular basis, what initially seems like a jumble of curious ancient stories and inscrutable Aramaic phrases ultimately becomes a great source of pride and joy.
Perhaps you have had this exact experience: Somebody hands you a study sheet featuring a piece of Jewish text. At first read it sounds weird, ridiculous, or even like total gibberish. Then as you parse, debate, discuss and read commentary, there’s the “Eureka!” moment, when you realize the true depth and meaning, the brilliance and relevance to your life. Contrary to your initial reaction, you suddenly understand what all the hubbub’s about and what you’ve been missing. If you have never experienced this sort of joy, I hope that you do some day soon.
A totally different kind of joy is that which I experience every Friday morning at 10:30 AM, when I sing Shabbat songs with the children in our Early Learning Center. We welcome Shabbat with excitement and song and dance. There is nothing quite like the unadulterated joy of 4-year-olds bopping up and down to Yismeḥu HaShamayim - may the Heavens rejoice! They of course do not understand that those words are used as we welcome the Shabbat Queen every Friday evening for Qabbalat Shabbat, but I sincerely hope that the joyful experience will stick with them as they learn and grow.
In short, Jewish living helps us navigate the fear and misery and pain in this world by offsetting it with so many touchpoints of joy.
(And, in case you did not know, the Talmud describes Yom Kippur as one of the happiest days of the Jewish year, because it was one of two days in the ancient world when women would go out into the vineyards in search of husbands!)
So here is a suggestion as to how to thwart the angst of the moment: find the joy, and place it at the center not only of your Jewish observance, but also at the center of your life. And you should do this in proud spite of every miserable thing that is happening in this world.
And here are some ways in which you might do this:
First and foremost, and if you have been listening to me at all over these last nine years, you know this: You need more Shabbat in your life.
You need a break from all the chaos of your week, and Shabbat is the biggest source of joy for me, despite the fact that I “work” every Shabbat! It is a time that is set aside for family and community, for disconnecting from the awfulness of your screens and reconnecting to the people in front of you, whose importance is far greater than anything going on in Washington, or at Costco, or on Instagram.
Shabbat is 25 complete hours, from chanting the joyous psalms of Qabbalat Shabbat on Friday evening as the sun sets, until dark on Saturday night when we mark the return to the week with fragrant spices, a bold, multi-wicked candle, and a luxurious cup of wine.
You might think that setting aside all this time from the cut-and-thrust of the week will make you lose out; that you otherwise need to do chores, to shop for widgets, and so forth. But let me assure you: subtracting that day from the other six does not reduce time; rather, it serves as a multiplier! If you separate yourself from work and commerce for a day, you will actually make the rest of the week more productive.
We endeavor to make our Shabbat services enjoyable, with a healthy dose of singing. Not only on the fourth Friday night of the month, on which we usually feature our Hod veHadar instrumental service, but every Shabbat morning we enjoy singing together as a community. And I’ll tell you this: it does not matter if you know Hebrew or not, it does not matter if you can carry a tune or not. We all could use a little bit more music, a little bit more singing, and, of course, your voice. You can even just hum along if that’s all you can muster. Trust me: it will bring you joy and set your heart at ease.
Here is another easy way to add some joy to your life: creating a sense of gratitude for all the beauty around us. Many of us know that there are berakhot / blessings that we say before and after eating, and yes, these are important for acknowledging the essential gratitude we all should have for being able to eat and be satisfied.
But did you know that there is a blessing for when you see a rainbow?
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’ אֱ‑לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, זוֹכֵר הַבְּרִית נֶאֱמָן בִּבְרִיתוֹ וְקַיָּם בְּמַאֲמָרוֹ
Barukh Attah Adonai, Eloheinu Melekh ha’olam, zokher haberit, ne’eman bivrito, veqayam bema-amaro.
Praised are You, God, who remembers the covenant and is faithful to it, and who keeps Your word.
Or for seeing beautiful natural sights: lofty mountains, sprawling valleys, gorgeous rivers and oceans and deserts:
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’ אֱ‑לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, עוֹשֹה מַעֲשֹה בְּרֵאשִׁית
Barukh Attah Adonai, Eloheinu Melekh ha’olam, oseh ma’aseh bereshit.
Praised are You, God, who continually does the work of Creation.
Or for happy moments:
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’ אֱ‑לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, הַטּוֹב וְהַמֵּטִיב
Barukh Attah Adonai, Eloheinu Melekh ha’olam, hatov vehametiv.
Praised are You, God, who is good and creates good.
There is even a berakhah - and I am not making this up - for after using the bathroom! It’s gratitude that all your organs and bodily holes still work! OK, so I’m just checking to see if you are still paying attention, but truth be told, I’m grateful for this every day!
And there are plenty more. You can find them in any weekday siddur, and if you want help finding them on a mobile phone app, call me. But the larger point is that there are moments and occurrences throughout your day that take you back to joy, back to gratitude, and back to God. And you should take advantage of them.
And finally, I urge you to learn more, to expand your palette of Jewish knowledge. Start small: you don’t have to jump straight into Talmud or reading Rashi in the original. Read a book on a Jewish subject. Find a weekly devar Torah that you can read with your family at Shabbat dinner. I’m happy to point you to some resources - we are fortunate to be living in a time when there are many which are easily accessible - please call me at the office or shoot me an email.
To study ancient texts is to analyze and dig deep into the most important questions of our lives: business ethics, the holiness embedded in sexuality, our obligations to our family members and neighbors, and so forth. Digging into the Jewish bookshelf is the most important mitzvah, the most essential opportunity for holiness in Jewish life. And it comes with a certain amount of delight. When we do so, we find ourselves, we understand our relationships and how we fit into the world. There is just so much there that is of ongoing usefulness on the Jewish bookshelf, material you can use every single day as you go about your life.
Even just a few minutes a week can help bring you back to the value of Jewish text, and the wisdom found therein which can help make our lives more meaningful, and indeed more joyful.
In short, what I am suggesting is to break out of your regular routine to find some joy in Jewish life. One reason we, the Jews, are still here, after centuries of dispersion and oppression and all manners of grief, is that we are able to balance our lives out with the joy which our framework provides. It would give me great personal satisfaction to help you do so as well.
As a footnote, I would like to make note of one way in which centering Jewish joy will play out in the coming weeks. I hope you are aware that there is a community memorial for that black day of October 7th, 2023 this Monday - please know that you have to register for this on the Federation’s website. As is our custom in the Jewish world, we generally mark yahrzeits according to the Jewish calendar, and as you may recall, the Hamas attack one year ago fell on Shemini Atzeret, the festival day at the end of Sukkot. And we will do so during the Yizkor service on that day.
But Shemini Atzeret is always followed by Simḥat Torah, with jubilant dancing and singing with abandon. And this year will be no exception. So it is unfortunate that Shemini Atzeret, a festive day, will henceforward be saddled with the deep, deep grief associated with the contemporary pogrom of one year ago. But then we will pick ourselves up from our grief, and we will sing, and dance, and be merry as we celebrate the Torah, the wellspring of our joy.
And in doing so, we will acknowledge that, as painful as life is, as miserable as current events are, we are always compelled to center joy.
Shanah tovah!