A
candidate for conversion
recently informed your rabbis
and cantor in the course
of her Beit Din,
or appointed court, that
while she had felt Jewish
her whole life, her suspicions
were confirmed when she
visited the website Belief-O-Matic.
There she took a 20 question
quiz on her basic religious
beliefs and received an
instant computerized assessment
that she was most in line
with – guess what?
– Reform Judaism!
Of
course, we, your clergy
team, all became instantly
inquisitive about Belief-O-Matic
and rushed to our PC’s
to take the test.
The
good news is, it’s
really neat, and they tell
you the religion you are
most in line with right
away. The bad news is that
I came out a neo-Pagan,
Rabbi Zimmerman a Universalist
Unitarian, and Rabbi Saks
a liberal Quaker.
I
know. You want to know how
about the Cantor, don’t
you?
Wiccan.
Yes, it surprised us all.
But you should be comforted
to know that Reform Judaism
had a solid place in all
our lists, #4 on mine! But
also I was pleased to note
that at least one important
theme was present in almost
every religious tradition
: Gratitude – thankfulness
– appreciation. A
consistently high value
on everyone’s list.
The
Catholics teach us: this
is the day the Lord hath
made.
Buddha says: With every
breath I take today, I vow
to be awake.
Native Americans pray: We
thank You oh Great Spirit
for the resources that made
this food possible.
Even the pagans daven: Generous
One, eternally giving gifts,
I pray to you, I praise
you, I remember you throughout
my day.
Of
course the Jews are right
up there with instructions
about being grateful for
stuff. In the Birkat
Hamazon – the
extensive after-the-meal
bracha recited
– we see that expressing
gratitude is no less than
commanded in the Torah.
Kakatuv v’achalta
v’savata u’verachta
et Adonai Elohecha.
As it is written, when you
have eaten your fill you
will thank God. We have
instituted the Birkat
Hamazon at meals eaten
here at Temple because it
is such a central value.
At
the same time, our Torah
presents us with what has
got to be one of the most
pathetic ancient histories
of ingratitude of any people.
God
creates Adam a bride, by
all accounts a fine looking
young woman, brand new,
in fact. But instead of
thanking God for the gift
of no more lonely Saturday
nights, he gripes about
his Havalah, saying
to God: the woman You created
turned me onto the baaaad
fruit. And it was downhill
from there.
The
crew who erected the Tower
of Babel, essentially to
do battle with God, were
survivors of the flood.
Can you imagine a group
of people who should have
been more appreciative than
them?? The Midrash
calls them “sons of
Adam” to make it clear
they were descendants of
Adam, the first fabulous
ingrate.
The
Israelites in the wilderness
are legendary for their
in-your-face attitude. Just
a few weeks out of Egyptian
slavery, with splitting
seas, manna appearing out
of nowhere, instant three-walled
fruit-furnished condominiums
popping up, and they’re
kvetching to Moses: We’re
thirsty… We were better
off as slaves! Why did you
bring us up out of Egypt
to die in the wilderness?
It
turns out that gratitude,
according to Judaism, does
not come natural to anyone
but must be taught. We are
not born being thankful
human beings. Think about
it, when is the last time
you heard of the baby emerging
from the womb and thanking
its mother for all that
work. You haven’t,
have you?
I’m
going to reveal something
strange to you about the
way the medieval Jewish
philosophers looked at gratitude,
and you are probably not
going to like it. Bachya
Ibn Pakuda, of the 11th
century, believed that people
do not perform acts of kindness
and generosity unless there
was something in it for
them. Only one spirit in
the universe blesses us
with stuff without any ego
or selfishness attached,
only One Being gives lovingly
only for the sake of loving,
and that is, well, guess
Who.
If
you guessed God you are
correct. And so, said Bachya,
all expressions of gratitude
are due exclusively to God.
Anyone who does something
nice for you is really only
doing God’s work,
so your thanks should still
be to God.
When
I read this, I found it
a very depressing statement
about human nature. We’re
taught to say please and
thank you, but how can you
feel gratitude to a person
if you think they’re
doing it for themselves?
Don’t we run into
the danger of becoming a
cynical society if we look
at the goodness people perform
as self-serving? And if
we stop showing appreciation
to others don’t we
run the risk of losing any
gratefulness for anything
that is done for us?
Bachya’s
challenge is interesting
– he says go on and
be grateful anyway to people
whether their motives be
pure or not, because doing
it with humanity strengthens
your ability to be grateful
to God, and, for that matter,
being grateful to God strengthens
your ability to be grateful
to human beings. It’s
just a really good exercise.
The
first four of the Ten Commandments
are about gratitude to God,
but the 5th one, beginning
the human to human instructions
is an unqualified admonition
to honor your parents! Somehow
there is a serious connection
between honoring people
and honoring God.
Jews
understand pain, and thus
the central the consolidation
of the entire Torah into
one pithy statement: “what
is hateful to you do not
do to another”. Similarly,
we understand the pleasure
of the feeling of positive
self-worth, how good, how
empowering, how encouraging
it feels to be thanked,
to be appreciated, should
we not then do this for
others?
My
colleague and teacher, Rabbi
Joseph Edelheit, reminded
me how the Hebrew letters
reish and dalet
are so easily confused for
one another, and I said
"yes, so what?"
And he said "well,
see how easy it is to confuse
the name Torah with todah."
“Thank you”
I said. “That is correct”
he said. No, I mean thank
you for showing me that…
Simply
stated, perform random acts
of gratitude, and you will
become a more grateful person.
Become a more grateful person
and your relationship with
everyone, God included,
will flourish.
But on this Yom Kippur,
as we venture out into a
new year, this begs the
question: Exactly how do
I become a more grateful
person?
Gratitude
begins with counting one’s
blessings. Jews are supposed
to thank God 100 times daily
for things, first thing
in the morning, upon awakening
thanking God for awakening
with the same soul you had
yesterday. Then, in your
bathroom, for the fact that
the pipes are working –
not the toilet, your
pipes, that is, that our
bodies are functioning properly.
Then for the food we eat,
the rainbows we see, and
on and on.
Whew,
a hundred blessings a day.
Can you imagine taking the
time to show that kind of
gratitude? I thought it
might prove interesting
to try it right here today,
publicly to see if it were
humanly possible. I have
here 100 poker chips to
“count my blessings.”
Let’s give it a try,
shall we?
Okay,
a wife, whom I love and
who puts up with me, three
talented children, one who
helped me lead the TIPTY
choir (that’s three)
Employment- Living in a
democracy - Clothing that
others labored greatly to
manufacture so that I could
wear - A mother in good
health - Wonderful siblings
(3) - Enough to eat each
day
Hmmmm - ah! 40 super kids
who agreed to lead their
congregation in worship
with very little in it for
themselves other than the
occasional piece of pizza
(that’s 40 right there!)
The gift of music. Ten fingers
to operate my guitar. My
wonderful in-laws, Jim and
Helen, who have helped us
make Minneapolis feel like
home. My dog, Sophie! Trees
that turn magnificent colors.
American soldiers who are
risking their very lives
for freedom and democracy
- At least 20 close personal
friends I have made in the
Twin Cities since coming
here.
Hmmm,
this is tough… oh,
yeah, That Cake.
Clearly,
thankfulness can only come
from mindfulness. It’s
hard to be thankful when
we walk through life unnoticing,
unaware, disconnected. If
you feel you have it all
coming, no, you won’t
be grateful. If you awaken
on a beautiful sunny day
like we had this week and
think only of how cold it’s
going to be soon, no you
won’t develop the
gratitude attitude. Somehow
we need to be able to see
our blessings when they
are in front of us, and
to overtly name them, and
then acknowledge them.
I
heard it once said that
the majority of the unhappiness
in the world comes from
people who have 90% of what
they need desperately trying
to find the missing 10%.
Which
reminds me of a guy who
came to see me some years
ago at my last congregation.
He was a healthy, wealthy,
prominent businessman who
came to me deeply troubled
and I couldn’t imagine
why, until he began to tell
me he had been “plagued”
(his word) by a less than
successful income year he
had had in his multi-million
dollar business. The new
year was almost upon us
and he asked, with tears
in his eyes, Rabbi can we
say a blessing for my business?
I thought he was kidding.
I asked him: Larry, is everyone
healthy in your family?
Yes. Your marriage? Glorious.
Your home? Thank you Rabbi,
all three homes are quite
beautiful.
I understand it took him
two launderings to get my
bootprint out of the seat
of his suit-pants. But after
he left I had to ask myself,
am I any different from
Larry? Gazing daily at the
splendor that is my life,
and letting days go by without
expressing an iota of thanks?
You
know, I mentioned earlier
the Birkat hamazon,
the prayer after meals.
It contains a line that
as a teenager I used to
refuse to sing – na’ar
hayiti v’gam zakanti
v’lo raiti tzaddik
ne’ezav…
which means basically, in
all my life I have never
seen a righteous man abandoned
by God. We used to hate
that line at camp, would
refuse to sing it, because
of course we had seen or
heard of many good and decent
really righteous people
who had suffered regardless.
One day it was explained
to me that the verse means
a righteous person, because
of the very nature of his
gratitude for the goodness
bestowed upon him by God
never be deserted by God.
One who has learned gratefulness
will never be alone. Seeing
the goodness of the world
will keep them in touch
with God and with their
fellow human beings always.
They will never be abandoned.
They will never tire of
the world’s beauty,
never die a death of the
soul, and never, ever will
they feel alone.
Between
our tsurus and
our skepticism about people’s
motives, it is hard sometimes
to see that for which we
should be grateful.
It
has been documented that
Simon Wiesenthal, the Nazi
hunter who died several
weeks ago, survived internment
in some 12 different Nazi
camps. He recalled his liberation
from Matthausen where a
rabbi who had come to comfort
the survivors invited the
prisoners to come say prayers
of gratitude. Wiesenthal
refused. He told the rabbi
that what he had seen in
the camp had forever soured
him on prayer. There is
nothing left over with which
to say the hoda’ah,
the prayer of thanks. There
had been a starving prisoner
who had smuggled a siddur
– a prayer book. To
Wiesenthal’s horror,
the man was actually renting
the siddur out
to Jews for a piece of bread.
He was so angry with the
man for taking the last
piece of bread out of the
hands of his starving comrades
he decided he would never
again pray. The rabbi responded,
young man, why do you look
at the Jew who rented out
his siddur to take away
people’s last meals?
Why don’t you look
at the dozens of Jews who
gave up their last piece
of bread in order to be
able to use a prayer book?
Now that’s true faith.
That is gratitude. And Wiesenthal
and the rabbi walked off
to pray.
Here
is the problem with Bachya’s
cyncism about human beings.
We must be grateful to people
not because we want to be
more like God, but because
we need to praise the Godliness
that is in them. Think of
what you are doing when
you express appreciation
for something holy that
someone has done for you.
You are helping them see
God working inside them.
Look how powerful a tool
your gratitude is. Never
mind whether you feel like
expressing gratitude, it
is not always about our
feelings.
A
marriage counselor I know
says that our society concentrates
too heavily on our feelings.
How do you feel? Do you
feel like doing that, honey?
How does that make you feel?
So when we’ve lost
the feeling for doing something
we throw it out like a disposable
camera. We build our relationships
like this: If I feel love
for you, I will act in a
loving way. If I feel like
forgiving you, I will. If
I feel grateful to you,
I’ll let you know.
Well
try this on for size –
If I act in a loving way
toward you I will feel love
for you. If I forgive you
I will feel forgiving. If
I show gratitude to you,
I will become a grateful
and gracious person.
You know, you run through
the park, you do sit ups,
you study, you improve your
sports abilities. Yom
Kippur is a great day
to practice gratitude. When
someone apologizes to you
today, what will you say
to them?: “Oh that’s
ok, it wasn’t such
a big deal anyway…”
or “yes, you oughtta
apologize, you really are
a jerk.” Or one of
my favorites: “that’s
it? That’s all you
think you’ve done??”
No,
you are going to say "Thank
you. I am grateful for your
apology." Because you
know what? Apologizing is
a big deal – it is
Godlike, and you know what
is even more Godlike? Accepting
an apology. Yom Kippur
is a big gratitude day.
The
famous violinist Itzhak
Perlman was in New York
one evening to perform a
violin concerto. Being stricken
with polio as a child, getting
on stage was no small deal.
He wears braces on both
legs and walks with two
crutches. Just as he started
into the beginning of the
first movement, one of the
strings on his violin snapped.
At that point Perlman was
close enough to the beginning
of the piece that it would
have been reasonable to
stop, replace the string
and start over. But that's
not what he did. He signaled
the conductor to pick up
just where they had left
off.
Perlman
now had only three strings
with which to play his solo
part. He was able to find
some of the missing notes
on adjoining strings, but
where that wasn't possible,
he had to rearrange the
music on the spot in his
head so that it all still
held together. He played
with passion and artistry,
spontaneously rearranging
the fingering as he went.
When he finally rested his
bow, the audience sat for
a moment in stunned silence.
And then they rose to their
feet and cheered wildly.
They knew they had been
witness to an extraordinary
display of human skill and
ingenuity.
Perlman raised his bow to
signal for quiet. "You
know," he said, "sometimes
it is the artist's task
to find out how much beautiful
music you can still make
with what you have left."
We
are all lacking something,
and we’ll always have
at least some degree of
suspicion about what motivates
others to do what they do
for us or to us. But we
need the Gratitude Attitude
to craft something of beauty
out of what we do have,
incomplete as it may be.
Maybe you busted a string
on the violin of your life
this year, but you still
have three more, and that’s
something to be grateful
for.
On
this most important day
of the Jewish year, we think
a lot of those busted strings,
and admitting to ourselves
and to God those imperfections.
We can let them discourage
or define us in the coming
year, or we can be grateful
for the thousands of daily
opportunities to celebrate
ourselves and others. Grateful
for love, grateful for the
memory of those no longer
with us, grateful for health,
or in the absence of health
grateful for a fighting
spirit to stand strong in
its wake, and grateful for
those in our corner helping
us fight. And every moment
of contact with each other
offers us a choice to be
critical and cynical, or
to be grateful.
This
morning we have prayed three
types of prayers, the brachot,
praising; the bakasha,
asking for things; and the
hoda’ah,
the thank you prayers. The
Talmud teaches that in the
end of days, when the messiah
has arrived, and every single
thing will be perfect, and
we will all be together,
and one with God and not
a thing wrong, the only
prayers left to say in our
little siddurim
will be those prayers of
gratitude. The hoda’ah.
Even when all hopes and
dreams are answered in a
perfect universe, we will
be required to sing songs
of gratitude. It’s
for keeps.
Okay,
so if someone asks you,
what did the rabbi talk
about in his sermon just
say: well he said we should
say please and thank you
more often. Even if we don’t
feel like it.
Or
just remember that grateful
people make better human
beings and better Jews,
and they make the world
a better place. That’s
pretty much it.
Oh,
and thank you for listening.
I am indeed grateful to
serve such a wonderful congregation.