Sermons

The Path of Joy
Erev Rosh Hashanah 5769
by Rabbi Sim Glaser

Joy is a very powerful force. It exists in the moment and has the power to dissolve the past and ward off the worries about the future.

There are those of us who think that joy is elusive, cannot be found. Some of us experience it only sporadically, rarely, and in short bursts. Still others think it is indulgent to seek out joy.

The grandson of the Ba’al Shem Tov, Rebbe Nachman of Bratslav was famous for preaching and teaching joy. He was positively nutty about it. He would talk about how the divine sparks of God that are scattered throughout the universe and which make up our very being are geared for joy. He called sadness and depression kelipot, or husks, that surround each divine kernel. When we go into depression, or when sadness overwhelms us the sparks are covered up by these husks, these kelipot, and the shechina, the indwelling presence of God, goes into exile.

What does this all mean? Rebbe Nachman’s teaching was that joy has the ability destroy the shells that cover up what is holy. Put simply, God wants us to be happy. Joy has the ability to combat the destructive power of our dark imaginations which take us away from appreciation of our blessings and understanding that we deserve to experience joy. Joy exists in the here and now. Seeking it is a wonderfully important thing. So you shouldn’t ever feel guilty about being happy. You are assisting yourself into a more holy state of being, and you are lifting the entire universe to a higher holier place.

Surprisingly, the opposite of joy is not sadness. The opposite of joy is despair. Giving up. The meaning of these high and holy days is that we can always get back to that holy place. It is inside of us, even if our inner voices have been yanking us into dark and sad places over the year. Never give up the hope that you can be once again on the path of joy.

Reb Nachman, the happy Hasid, told a lively story to illustrate his point.

Once there was a farmer named Moshe who lived in the Ukraine in the nineteenth century. He was known as “Moshe Simcha” (joyous Moshe) because he was rarely seen without a big smile. He had a happy soul and seemed content with the world. Moshe’s life as a farmer had not been easy, but his high spirits stayed with him nonetheless. He figured he had the choice to smile and laugh, or to frown and moan. He knew that no matter what he chose to do, the world would not change that much. So he decided that he might as well enjoy his life as much as he could.

One day Moshe was plowing his land when a huge, strange stone turned up in the soil. He picked it up and knew it once that it was valuable. It had dazzling, almost blinding light shining it its center, as if it contained its own sun.

Moshe carried the stone to the city, where he showed it to his brother-in-law Shabbtai, who happened to be a jeweler. When Shabbtai saw the stone, big as a fist, he almost choked on his pickled herring. “Where did you get such a stone?” he asked in awe. Moshe shook his head and pointed his thumb upward, as if to say: “Only God knows.”

Moshe asked quietly, “How much do you think it is worth?”

Shabbtai smiled and also raised his thumb. “A lot”. Then he said, “You will have to take this stone to the market in Amsterdam, for that is the only place they will be able to pay for such a large gem.”

Amsterdam! How would Moshe get to Amsterdam? He had no money. It would be too dangerous to go overland. The best way would be to go by boat, from Odessa through the Black Sea to the Mediterranean, past Gibraltar, and then up to Holland. But he could not possibly pay for such a passage.

Shabbtai agreed to help. He contacted a captain, a shady character who was in the business of smuggling. The captain agreed to take Moshe, with promise of payment at the other end. Payment, of course, at ten times the going rate. But who cared? Moshe would bet his ride.

The deal was cut, and Moshe went onboard. He had his own cabin and was served daily by the steward. The captain was a gruff, dark-bearded man, with a patch over one eye, who looked very much like the pirate he was rumored to be. He spent every day with Moshe, joking about people he had thrown overboard, which he claimed he did whenever he was in the mood. He related every gruesome detail, trying to intimidate Moshe, but “Moshe Simcha” was a joyous soul. He pretended the captain was joking, and laughed himself silly. When Moshe laughed, the captain laughed too.

So they got along really well, the captain telling his stories and Moshe laughing away. As long as the captain laughed with him, Moshe felt safe. Sort of.

Each day at lunchtime, Moshe took out his big precious stone to admire its inner glow. He was mesmerized by it. He did not think so much about the money this stone would fetch, he was much more interested in its intrinsic beauty. It was a magnificent stone, and he grew to love it.

When they were two weeks away from landing in Holland, an awful thing happened. Moshe fell asleep at lunch. He was still asleep when the steward cleared the table. And he was still asleep as the steward did his daily cleanup by throwing overboard everything that was left on the table but the cup, the dish, and silverware. All the scraps of food, crumbs of bread, and on this day, the piece of dirty, old glass that must have been rolling around in the bilge – all of that was thrown overboard in one heave-ho.

When Moshe awoke, his stomach immediately knotted. The gemstone was gone. He knew it would be gone forever. And if the captain found out that Moshe could not pay his passage, he knew that he too would be gone forever.

Yet when the captain came that afternoon, Moshe Simcha was as jovial as ever. They joked and laughed just like every other day. Of course Moshe had not told the captain about the stone in the first place, for fear that he would steal it. Now that t it was gone, Moshe had even more reason not to tell him.

Day after day for the next couple of weeks, the two of them were together, joking like old friends. The day before arriving in port, the captain came to Moshe and asked him to do a favor. He told him that his reputation was not the best in these parts. Then the captain asked Moshe if he would be willing to have the entire shipment put under his name. This would minimize the suspicions of the customs officer. If Moshe was willing to do this, the captain would pay him a fine fee.

Of course, Moshe agreed. What did he have to lose? Even if he got caught smuggling, it was better than being thrown overboard. So the contracts were pre-dated and signed. On paper, Moshe owned the entire cargo, worth a huge sum.

That night there was a strange wind. It shook the rigging and howled in a way that pierced to the marrow of one’s bones. The sailors knew this wind as a cry that comes from a world far beyond our own. The next morning, the captain did not appear on deck. Indeed, when they went in search of him, sailors found that the captain had died during the night.

When the ship docked that day, Moshe was instantly a wealthy man. He paid all the sailors triple wages and still was exceedingly rich. Everyone was happy.

When Moshe returned home, his neighbors saw that he was as joyful as ever. Moreover, he gave away so much money, his joy became infectious. Indeed, from that time forward, everyone who ever knew Moshe always smiled whenever his name was mentioned. Even today, when people hear the story of Moshe Simcha, they often seem to smile for no apparent reason, as you may be doing right now.

On this Rosh Hashana we might consider what it means to be a messenger of joy. In this story Moshe Simcha’s very survival depended upon his joyous manner. I know some of you probably thought the ending of the story was going to be that a fish swallowed the stone and when Moshe was cutting into a piece of fish one day he came upon the stone and became rich.

No, the stone is not the hero of the story, nor is the attainment of great wealth. Moshe maintaining his joyous attitude throughout is the theme. Look how infectious his joy was that he could keep the nasty captain laughing every night, and while the captain was happier everyone was probably a lot safer on board.

The truth is, we never know how things are going to turn out, but we can become purveyors, masters, messengers of a joyous attitude and behold how the world becomes changed by our embrace of joy.

Most of us think that joy comes on its own whenever it just happens, but part of our practice this year can be inviting joy as a guest into our lives at new opportunities. Appreciating new music, dancing (even if you think you cannot dance), taking a different attitude to the long Minnesota winter ahead, going to look at beautiful human creations like art and theater. And maybe just maybe being a little bit more attentive to the quality of the things you read, watch, attend or eat. We know that all the violence in movies, TV and video games excites us, but do they bring us joy? And gratitude is always a good bet. Being truly thankful for what we have undeniably increases the potential for joy.

May you be a messenger of joy this year, may your year be joyful as well. And may you bless one another.

Amen.