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First Day Rosh Hashanah 5765
By Rabbi Dr. Barry Leff
Is the richest person you know the happiest person you know?
Is the poorest person the unhappiest?
If your circle of acquaintances is anything like mine, the connection
between wealth and happiness is tenuous at best.
The Dalai Lama writes “There are two ways to create happiness. The first
is external. By obtaining better shelter, better clothes, and better
friends we can find a certain measure of happiness and satisfaction. The
second is through mental development, which yields inner happiness.
However, these two approaches are not equally viable. External happiness
cannot last long without its counterpart. If something is lacking in your
perspective—if something is missing in your heart—then despite the most
luxurious surroundings, you cannot be happy. However, if you have peace
of mind, you can find happiness even under the most difficult
circumstances.”
The Dalai Lama writes from the perspective of Tibetan Buddhism. But the
Jewish tradition teaches the exact same thing. In Pirkei Avot it says
“aizehu ashir? Hasameach b’chelko,” “Who is rich? He who is happy with
his lot.”
But most people focus on the external path to happiness. We’ve been
conditioned by the media to equate possessions with joy. We’ve allowed
our self-worth to become defined by our job titles, our incomes, the size
of our S.U.V.s and the demographics of our neighborhoods.
But if money buys happiness, then why are the richest nations on earth the
biggest consumers of Prozac?
And if money buys happiness, why do so many so-called “successful” people
feel that something in their lives is missing?
When people do decide to look in the internal direction for happiness,
sometimes they have no idea where to start—even when the answer is right
at hand.
The story’s told of a humble shoe maker named Chaim Mendel who lived in
the little village of Shnipishtick. One night Chaim dreamt of a great
treasure under the Warsaw bridge. The next night he had the same dream.
And again a third night. The dream was so realistic, Chaim couldn’t shake
it. He resolved to go to Warsaw and look under the bridge for the
treasure. His wife and neighbors thought he was crazy, but he wasn’t
going to be deterred. He packed up a few meager provisions and headed out
for Warsaw.
After a few weeks of walking, he finally reached Warsaw. He wasn’t quite
sure what to do, because if he made a show of obviously looking, he would
be sure to attract notice. So he tried to blend in, he walked over the
bridge a few times, looking discretely for signs. An officer noticed him
and came over and asked, “just what is it you are looking for?” Chaim
decided he would never find the treasure this way, and it would be best to
tell the officer the story, and hope he would help him find the treasure
and share it with him. So Chaim told him the story. When he finished,
the officer said, “foolish peasant, wasting all that time and money to
come to Warsaw looking for treasure because of a silly dream. Why, I’ve
had the same dream three nights in a row myself…that in the town of
Shnipishtick there’s a man named Chaim Mendel, and under his stove there’s
a treasure. Do you know how far Shnipistick is? Do you know how many
people named Chaim Mendel must live there? Do you think I would waste my
time on such a fruitless journey? Go home, little man, and quit wasting
your time.”
When Chaim got home, he looked under his stove, and sure enough found a
great treasure, sufficient for him and his family to live very
comfortably.
A lot of Jews, myself included, are like Chaim in the story. We’ve gone
looking for treasure somewhere far away from home.
Jews are disproportionately represented in American Buddhist circles.
They’re called “Jew-Bu’s” – and I used to be one of them. When I was 18
years old and in the Army, I got interested in spiritual things. Despite
(or maybe because of) having had a Bar Mitzvah and several years of Hebrew
school, it never occurred to me to look at Judaism to fulfill my spiritual
needs. I turned to Buddhism: I read every book I could find, I started
meditating 15-20 minutes a day. But for me, Buddhism was not the answer.
There may be a lot of wisdom there, but my soul, my neshamah, is not a
Buddhist neshamah. It’s a Jewish neshamah, and I eventually figured out
that my path to inner happiness had to be the Jewish path, not the
Buddhist path. Years later I started looking, and eventually found MY
treasure right at home.
Why is it that so many Jews go looking for spirituality in the East, or in
New Age fads, instead of turning to the Jewish wisdom that is their
birthright?
It’s not because what they are looking for is missing in Judaism. They
just don’t know it’s there. For too many Jews, their Jewish education
stopped at the age of 13, and for too many who continued after 13 the
curriculum in Hebrew High or confirmation classes failed to fire up their
souls with a love of Torah.
What picture of Judaism does a child have? Many kids – and some adults! –
get the idea of God as an old man with a long beard who sits on a throne
in heaven. The Bible is full of stories that a rational, scientific,
intellectual adult could not possibly believe. So because a person can’t
believe the world was created in six days, or that God destroyed the world
in a flood, he rejects Judaism. Can’t believe in Adam and Eve in a literal
sense, can’t believe in keeping kosher either.
It was a great revelation to me when I figured out that you can believe in
the Big Bang theory and evolution AND be a seriously committed and
religious Jew. I used to have this sort of secular superiority complex,
thinking that if you wanted to be religious, it meant you had to take your
rational, scientific brain out and put it on a shelf. NOT TRUE!
We’re not required to take the Torah literally. In fact, we’re not
ALLOWED to take it literally! The great rabbi Maimonides (Rambam) said
that if you take the Torah literally you’re distorting it and doing it a
great disservice. You should not, God forbid, think that because the
Torah says that God took us out of Egypt “with a strong arm” it means that
God has a real, physical arm. We’re supposed to understand that the Torah
speaks in the language of people and it uses myth and metaphor to teach
us.
Many of the stories in the Bible are completely in line with science if
you read them on a metaphorical level. Take the story of Adam and Eve.
The Torah says God created Adam, “male and female He created them.”
Science, via evolution, can explain the mechanism through which God
created Adam and Eve. Science, in fact, confirms that we all have a
common paternal ancestor, which they have nicknamed “Adam” and a common
maternal ancestor they have named “Eve.” The scientists also say that
Adam and Eve lived 80,000 years apart. Maybe the Torah makes more sense!
The important lesson which comes from Torah, and is backed up by science,
is that everyone on the planet is family: we are all related to each
other, and that implies we should treat each other with respect and
consideration. Ultimately we all have the same “yichus,” the same
ancestry.
The stories like Adam and Eve, or Noah’s Ark, are myths. A myth is not
necessarily false, nor is it necessarily true. According to Rabbi Neil
Gilman “A myth should be understood as a structure through which a
community organizes and makes sense of its experience.” A myth is the way
that we explain the world. In the scientific realm, the “myth” of
evolution does a good job of explaining how people came to be. In the
spiritual realm, the myth of Adam and Eve does a good job of explaining
what it means to be Adam, to be human.
Science has only recently discovered the idea of a common ancestor;
Judaism has had this concept for thousands of years, and has developed a
rich spiritual and ethical literature based on the fact that we are all
family.
When we read the Torah metaphorically, we can also find a very different
picture of God than if we read it literally. One of the things that
helped me find my way back to Judaism as a spiritual path was finding a
conception of God in Judaism that worked for me. It’s a concept of God
the observant Jew affirms twice a day in the Shema: Adonai Echad, God is
One. The profound unity and interconnectedness of everything in the
universe is an idea that I thought was strictly a Buddhist concept—until I
learned that Kabbalah says the exact same thing, and science agrees. There
is a deep unifying structure to the universe that science is only
beginning
to understand—which Judaism has been talking about for millennia.
Finding a view of God that made sense to me, and learning that to be a
serious Jew does not mean running away from science, opened a huge door
for me. A couple of books I read served as the officer in the story for
me—they showed me that the treasure I was looking for—a spiritual path
that would answer my soul’s instinctive search for meaning and
happiness—was right back at “home,” within the Jewish tradition.
Following Judaism as a spiritual path is more than just reading and
learning—it’s very much about doing. But more than just “doing”—it’s
about doing with understanding.
Logic suggests that understanding leads to doing: that insight leads to
commitment. That’s why I’m giving this sermon. I hope that increased
understanding of Judaism you get from it will inspire you to actually do
something different.
The Talmud itself agrees that insight leads to action. In the Talmud,
masechet Kiddushin it says: R. Tarfon and the Elders were sitting around
when someone asked, “which is greater, study, or deeds?” R. Tarfon
answered, “Deeds are greater.” R. Akiba responded “Study is greater, for
it leads to deeds.” Then they all answered and said: “Study is greater,
for it leads to action.”
However, we also have an example in the Torah itself of the process
working the other way around. Of commitment leading to insight. Of doing
leading to understanding. After Moses came down from the mountain with the
ten commandments, the people responded (Exodus 24:7) “na’aseh v’nishma,”
we
will obey, and we will understand. The Besht, the Ba’al Shem Tov, the
founder of Chasidut, interpreted this as meaning that it is through
action, through doing, that we are led to understanding. The Besht takes
the teaching from the Talmud and turns it on its head!
For me, after I had that flash of insight, that “Judaism could make
sense,” I was willing to take on some commitment. It led to my wife Lauri
and I being willing to take on some of the mitzvot. To take what Abraham
Joshua Heschel called a “leap of action.” We were willing to say, “OK,
maybe we don’t completely “get” the idea of Shabbat, but let’s try it and
see what happens.”
And what we discovered when we tried Shabbat in a serious way completely
transformed our lives. Shabbat is one of the fundamental pieces of the
Jewish spiritual path.
I hate to admit it, since as a rabbi I want to encourage all of you to
come to shul on Saturday morning, but attending synagogue is NOT the most
important part of Shabbat.
Shabbat is really a statement about your priorities, and it’s about making
time for the things we say are important.
Any kind of spiritual work—any kind of seeking inner happiness—takes time.
There is no way around it. There are no short cuts. You can sit and
meditate, you can spend time in prayer, you can read books, you can study
sacred texts, or you can go listen to your guru, but finding inner
happiness takes some time. Most of us are so busy during the week chasing
external happiness that we don’t have time to pursue inner happiness—real
happiness! Shabbat is about setting aside 25 hours a week to spend time
with friends and family, at a leisurely pace with no attention paid to the
clock. 25 hours a week to read or talk about spiritual matters, to eat
good meals and drink good wine. To really experience life that is rushing
by so quickly. To find peace in being, rather than pursuing happiness by
doing. My wife Lauri calls Shabbat a 25-hour spa for the soul. I
couldn’t think of a better description!
Some people are afraid that if they try really observing Shabbat it will
be hard on their families—the kids won’t be able to participate in soccer
or drive to birthday parties. But if you replace soccer or birthday
parties with serious quality time with Mom and Dad—time which can be spent
walking, bike riding, playing cards, and sharing leisurely meals—the gain
is far more than the loss. Our kids love putting on plays and musicals of
their own invention for us on Shabbat afternoon. Go ask one of my kids
what’s her favorite day of the week. She’ll tell you it’s Shabbat.
And you can become an activist – if soccer games are on Saturdays, try to
get them switched to Sundays; start a Jewish league if you need to. If
your kids are invited to Shabbat birthday parties, send them to a Jewish
Day School where parents honor the Sabbath – or should – by not
discriminating against children who don’t drive on Shabbat. Our own
children love theatre – but all the major children’s theatre programs in
Toledo are on Saturday mornings. So my wife has helped to start one with
a Jewish orientation – on Sunday afternoons here at B’nai Israel. Next on
the list is the Toledo Art Museum’s Saturday-only children’s classes.
You may think, it’s easy for you to say – you’re a rabbi! OF course YOU
can come to shul on Shabbat – it’s your job!
But I came to the rabbinate after 20 years in the business world. And
when I first became observant I was the Vice President of a semiconductor
firm with over $100 million a year in sales. I admit it was tough for me
the first time I told my boss I couldn’t get to an offsite meeting held on
Saturday until over an hour after the sun went down. But you know what? I
did it, and the CEO was quite understanding, and it was not a problem.
Too often in our Jewish history – especially in the last century – we’ve
worked TOO hard to fit in, to assimilate, not to make a fuss about our
holidays or our laws. It’s gotten to be where observant Jews like Senator
Joe Lieberman are seen as “exotic” – outside the Jewish mainstream.
The truth is it’s never been easier to be an observant Jew. Even here in
Toledo we have several stores that carry kosher meat. We live in a
multi-cultural society that accepts diversity. Anyone who really does not
want to work on Saturday can usually find a way to do it, often by working
the days the Christians would like to have off. We don’t have to hide
anymore. In fact, we shouldn’t! Each one of us can strike a blow for
Jewish liberation, to make ourselves, our neighbors and our children and
grandchildren free to live openly – and observantly – as Jews.
I mentioned how both the Dalai Lama and Pirkei Avot say that happiness
comes from having an attitude of being content with your lot. One of the
ways we cultivate this attitude in Judaism is through daily prayer. Now
you may be thinking that if daily prayer is anything like what I’m
experiencing today—hours of Hebrew that I don’t understand—what’s the
point? I don’t blame you. But that’s NOT what daily prayer is about.
You can say all of your prayers in English if you want to—God understands
all languages. And while it’s nice to use a prayer book, you are also
totally free to improvise.
For me, prayer is about two things: connecting with God, and cultivating a
certain attitude toward the world. Having a relationship with God is like
having a relationship with a person: you’re going to be on much more
intimate terms with someone you talk to three times a day rather than
someone you talk to three times a year. Prayer can include simply talking
to God, pouring out your heart to God like you would to a good friend. If
you make it part of your daily routine, prayer can help you feel God as a
presence in your life and not just as a theoretical concept.
Prayer encourages us to cultivate an attitude of gratitude—of being happy
with our lot. Our tradition teaches us to start our day, first thing,
before WE even get out of bed, with a short prayer thanking God for
restoring OUR souls to US. If you start your day with a reminder that
it’s good to be alive—and especially if you are in good health—it helps to
take the disappointments life throws YOUR way in stride.
All of the different aspects of Judaism—whether ritual commandments like
the Sabbath and prayer, or ethical commandments like giving charity or not
gossiping —are part of a path to inner happiness. My experience has led me
to understand that within Judaism obeying the mitzvot is a path for
drawing
closer to God. Just as Buddhists meditate to achieve Enlightenment—to draw
close to God—Jews do mitzvot.
If we can engage in a process of “mindful obedience,” of being aware of
what we are doing and why, when we obey the commandments we can transform
the most mundane of activities into a path of spiritual growth. A Chabad
rabbi friend of mine told me that when he goes to the grocery store, it’s
a religious experience: because he knows that he is shopping to buy food
to sustain his family so they can perform mitzvot and serve God.
The most mundane of activities can be a part of the “shoemaker’s
treasure.” The message of the story of the shoemaker is perhaps a little
more involved than it might appear at first. It doesn’t really help to
just tell people that what they’re looking for is at home. If Chaim
Mendel had felt completely content, he never would have gone on the
journey in the first place. Spiritual progress, like material progress,
needs an element of discontent as a spur. Once on the journey, once he
was searching, like so many of us are searching for answers to life’s most
profound questions, he never would have known to look in the right
place—which was at home—without someone there to point him in the right
direction.
As your new rabbi, I hope that I will have the opportunity to serve as the
officer in that story for you. To help you discover where the treasure is.
Or if you already know the treasure is at home, in Judaism, to help you
uncover it and unlock its secrets.