I sometimes wish I had a road map for living. If only someone would occasionally show me a way to go, a direction to take, it seems things could be easier.
Passengers on a flight to the tri-city airport of Kitchener-Waterloo-Cambridge must have felt a bit confused during a flight attendant's greeting. Not familiar with the area, she welcomed everyone warmly and stated that the destination would be Cambridge. A few passengers alerted her to the mistake. She corrected herself by saying they were headed to Tri-City and Kitchener. Chuckles rippled along the aisle as she bravely tried again. This time she informed passengers that their destination was Waterloo. Now laughter broke out. At that point, an authoritative voice came over the intercom and rescued her. "I'm your pilot, folks," he said, "and don't worry – I know where we're going."
Steve Goodier writes,
It's nice when someone knows the way. But does anyone know the way YOU should be going? The way you should go in your life? The truth is -- we really can't depend on others for the most important answers about living our lives. People can help, but nobody can truly decide what is best for us; nobody else can steer us along that individual path that we should take. But the good news is this: we will eventually find the way ourselves. And I believe we'll find it best by listening. Listening to our hearts; listening to an inner voice.
I’m not so sure that he is correct. The whole approach of Mussar, about which I spoke on Rosh Hashanah, calls attention to the many ways that we deceive ourselves. We want moral clarity. We want to get it right. But our own needs, our own hurts, our own expectations, all these affect our judgments. Moreh heter is the terminology of our tradition; we convince ourselves that something is OK because.... She was wrong. It’s an exceptional situation. I deserve this. It’s only a small thing. It won’t hurt anyone. Anyway, I know what’s best.
During the next 24 hours we’ll sing words that caution us against such thinking. At each service we’ll sing ליצרתפןואלהבטלברית- look to the Covenant, not to our desires.What might this mean?
As I discussed on Rosh Hashanah, a Mussar approach teaches us:
1. To identify a soul-trait that requires our spiritual attention (for example, our craving for external attention and approval).
2. Repeat and reflect on a verse or line from the prayers that reminds us of our goal (sort of a mantra).
3. Find a partner for honest and deep discussion about our moral struggles.
4. Link ourselves with a tradition and a community that supports our spiritual struggle. Look to the Covenant, not to our desires.
Yes, we have to listen to our inner voice, but moral decisions depend on more than our hearts and kishkes. Altruism and moral action are not simply a result of evolutionary biology. As we note the 50th anniversary of the capture of Adolph Eichmann, we know that human beings do not naturally choose to do what is right. People do some terrible things to one another whether through “the banality of evil” or in the name of what they feel is right.
That is why, over the ages, philosophers, rabbis, priests, imams and others have sought to offer moral direction. It is best when our inner voice is in dialogue with ethical reasoning and the wisdom of our tradition.
Moral guidance also has to be offered with humility and with a respectful voice. All too often, in our society, we find moral judgments shouted at us. But in our tradition, we also find guidance through questions that ask us to think about what is truly the “והטובהישר –the right and the good”.
Rava, a 3rd century Babylonian scholar, imagines the questions that will be asked of each person who dies. One of the most often-cited rabbis in theTalmud, his debates with his study partner, Abaye, are considered classic examples of Talmudic dialectic. Of their hundreds of disputes, the law is decided according to Rava in all but six cases. What do you think he imagined would be asked after death?
Rava’s first question is ? באמונהונתתנשאת? (nasata venatata be’emunah?)
Did you do business with integrity? The initial question is not about faith or ritual, but about honesty in the world of commerce. When we want to know whether we are on the right path, we should ask whether we are dealing with others with integrity. If it’s a war out there, then we need to think about the ethics of warfare. Whether it is doping in sports, Madoff-ype investment opportunities, or just sharing privileged information, we are often tested.
If you are not honest in your business dealings, can you be trusted in your personal relationships? We may enjoy watching “Survivor”, but we wouldn’t want to live with the double-crossing deal-makers. Researchers tell us that in a marriage, trust and integrity are more important than love. From Rava’s first question, we learn “Be honest with others, truthful with yourself and faithful with your God.” (Ron Wolfson).
Rava’s second question is ?ורביהבפריהעסקת? (asakta b’piryah v’rivyah)
Were you fruitful? Perhaps he was discussing the mitzvah of having children, but other generations understood his question to mean “Did you concern yourself with leaving a mark on the world, a living legacy?”
Henrietta Szold was a single woman who affirmed her obligation to recite Kaddish for her father. She created a vocational studies program for Russian immigrants to America, founded Hadassah, the Women’s Zionist Organization, and directed the efforts of Youth Aliyah to bring 22,000 children from Europe to Israel. In Israel, Mother's Day is marked on the day that Szold died, the 30th of Shevat. Whether married or not, with children or without, the people who support shuls, family education, Jewish camps and schools contribute to a fruitful future.
Being a parent is one of the great blessings and great challenges of life. Becoming a parent is easier than being one. As parents, we are called to be models to our children. They learn modesty from how we dress, respect from how we treat others, and love from the relationships we cherish. If we take them to March for Israel, serve at Out of the Cold or build with Habitat, they learn Hesed and Mishpat, Compassion and Justice. If we say Shema at night and Kiddush on Shabbat, they learn that Jewish life is rooted at home. If we bring them to shul, give them strong Jewish educations, send them to camps such as Ramah, they understand that they are part of a community of commitment. As the Mussar teachers reminded us, a life-long spiritual legacy is constructed every day.
The third question is ?לתורהעתיםקבעת? (kavata ittim latorah)
Did you set time for Torah?Jews learn to live. We know that what we studied at age 10 or 13 or 15 is not enough to sustain us when we are 40 or 50, 70 or 80. Torah is a way to grow in wisdom, to understand ourselves better, and to give us a base for our activities in the world. At Beth Tzedec we understand the concept of Torah study in a broad way, including classical study of Torah and Talmud as well as insights into history, literature, and contemporary culture. Some of our programs are oriented to mature students and some to young adults. And our Shabbat Synaplex has many different pathways. All these approaches share one insight in common. Torah is not an academic exercise. We learn to live.
This year we have re-written the book on HebrewSchool, looking for ways to respond to the diverse needs of parents and children. As we move ahead with the program that we call HITS, we will be exploring how to use web-based learning for parents and children to study together.
A long-standing hope of mine is slowly moving into place. I have been appalled at the lack of a community Hebrew high School for teens and fail to understand why Toronto has been unable to move forward in this area. Young people not enrolled in CHAT have not had the benefit of coming together to study. Each synagogue operated its own post-Bar/Bat Mitzvah program. The Orthodox based programs are no substitute for a learning framework that accepts theological and communal diversity. This year, we are joining with six congregations to create what I hope will be an exciting opportunity for teens to study and travel together. My long-term hope is to expand this project to include other religious denominations with significant support of the Jewish Federation.
Have you been doing any Jewish study? Set some time aside. Learn to live.
Rava’s fourth question was ?לישועהצפית? (tzipita leyeshu’a)
Did you anticipate redemption? Or- in non-theological language – did you live with hope?
The Biblical creation story tells us that the world was “very good- tov me’od”. The world is oriented toward goodness and we are pointed toward lives filled with awe and amazement for “all things great and small”. Our Torah tradition teaches us to finish scriptural readings on a positive note and orients us toward mashiah and a redemptive time.
I spend hours with members who are facing serious family and medical challenges. I try to help them to be both realistic and hopeful. I have learned much from HarvardMedicalSchool professor Jerome Groopman who has written about the ways hope affects our capacity to cope with serious illness. Dr Groopman points to memory, family and faith and how they influence healing by affecting treatment decisions and personal resilience. He reminds us of the power health care providers have to infuse or eliminate hope without glossing over medical realities: "Hope... is different from blind optimism: It brings reality into sharp focus."
I think of Israel as an example of the triumph of hope. Despite wars, an immigration rate that would challenge any country, and the difficulty of educating for democracy many people who have no roots in democratic institutions, I think Israel has done very well and I’ll share some thoughts about this tomorrow when we’ll ask for your support for Israel through an investment in Israel Bonds. Israel is a country full of hope, doing amazing things and with a strong future. Please consider a bond of hope with Israel.
Rava’s last two questions are really one: ?בחכמהפלפלת? and ?דברמתוךדברהבנת?
(pilpalta behokhmah? hevanta davar mitokh davar?).
Did you seek wisdom? Did you understand one thing from another?
My friend, Ron Wolfson, in his book Seven Questions, understands these questions as asking us whether we have learned from our experiences. "When you look at your life, did you get your priorities straight?" Did you “get it”? Did you connect the dots? Did you discern what was important and what was not?
Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan, known as the Hafetz Haim, was one of the rabbinic giants of the early 20th century. He once observed that life is like a picture postcard (do you remember those?). The space on a postcard for a personal message is limited to one half of one side. When we start writing, we usually use large letters. As we get closer to the end of the space, we want to say more, so we write in smaller and smaller letters, trying to fit in our message. The Hafetz Haim suggested that in our early years, we feel we have all the time in the world, so why rush? As we age and – perhaps grow in wisdom - we find that we have so much left to accomplish and so little time in which to do it. So we end up squeezing a lot of life into a small space, and very often run out of room – and time.
Rava ask us to ask ourselves what is truly important. If you do your soul-work, you can learn what is significant to you. If you devote attention to that which you value, then you will be living a life of purpose and meaning. Questions help us think about our values and life- goals.
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, the great German rabbi of the 19th century asked another question. Elderly and frail, he insisted on visiting the Alps. "When I stand before the Almighty, I will be answerable to many questions... But what will I say ... when the Holy One asks, 'Why didn't you see my Alps?'" Yom Kippur is a day of denial, but life is a gift to be appreciated and enjoyed as a blessing.
Ron Wolfson adds a seventh question from the 18th century Hasidic master, Rabbi Zusha of Anipol. On his death bed, Reb Zusya told his students that “When I get to heaven I'm not concerned that they will ask me why I wasn't more like Moses because I'm no Moses; but when they ask me, ‘Zusya why were you not more like Zusya?’ what will I say?”
Are we developing into the person we have the potential to become? Wolfson gives three suggestions to contemplate: What are you called to do? How good are your relationships? How are you serving others?
These seven questions are part of the accumulated wisdom of Judaism, one that seeks to guide, occasionally by definitive direction, but often through probing questions. The philosopher Susan Neiman, in her book, Moral Clarity, suggests it is problematic to rely on an “inner feeling” or on evolutionary empathy. We don’t want decisions to be simply “whatever I want”. We do best when we avail ourselves of the interpretive tradition of a community. We are blessed with the possibility of models of moral life to help us “choose life”.
