sermons

Joy

Every Christmas we hear the songs . . . “Joyful, Joyful We Adore You; Joy to the world; Have a Holly Jolly Christmas.” The season is filled with songs of joy and happiness of celebration and love.

I am waiting for them to come out with an album for the Yom Kippur. What would the songs be? Have a Lilty Guilty Yom Kippur? Hungry, Hungry we Implore you?

The point is that here we are, like our Christian neighbors on one of the most Holy days of the year, and we seem to have a very different feeling about why are here and what we hold up as being Holy. There are many reasons to come to shul on Yom Kippur, but Joy never seems high on the list.

As a matter of fact one of the top reasons that people go looking elsewhere for their spiritual nourishment is that there appears to be no sense of joy in Judaism any more. We have become so intellectual and detail oriented with the 49 categories of work on Shabbat and the fins and scales and cloven hooves that, the argument goes, we have moved away from just finding a place of happiness in our lives.

The truth is that this is not a new issue. Finding joy in the details has always been a challenge, and throughout our history different groups have approached it in various ways. Probably the most famous of internal divisions on this issue has been between the Hasidim and Mitnagdim. These two groups exemplify the poles and the two ends of the spectrum in dealing with the Joy of Judaism. On the one hand we have the Mitnagdim who were intellectuals and Talmudists—who would spend hours on one verse in examination of all of the various lines of thought. Who believed that study and prayer should be done with seriousness and kavod, respect.

On the other hand we have the Hasidim, founded by the Baal Shem Tov on the idea that without the spiritual, without the celebration, Judaism is vacant. The teachings we have from him and his followers are moral and spiritual tales that show the passion in Judaism. The Hasidim were known to actually stop in the middle of prayers and just sing. Imagine that!

All through the 1800s even to today these two groups differed with each other. They are all Jews, but they had divergent ways of expressing it.

For those who have taken a class with me or heard me speak about Jewish Law, you know that I believe that a fundamental basis of Judaism is balance. I believe that Jewish Law as a system, by constantly defining the boundaries is continually pushing us towards the center. We go to one side and see that it makes no sense at a certain point and that leads us to the other side where we see the same thing. Eventually we end up somewhere in the middle. We have much to learn from both of these traditions for today’s Judaism.

There must be a way to bring both of these traditions together—to understand Judaism on an intellectual level and see the beauty in the intricacy of Jewish Law as well as let it touch our soul and move us to heights of joy.

One approach is to look at the very texts we are talking about and see what they say about joy in Judaism. It is interesting to me that Judaism rarely uses the word "happy". It almost always uses the word "joy" or "joyous". Perhaps this is because "happy" implies satisfaction of the ego - while joy implies satisfaction of the soul. Judaism feels that happiness is fleeting - it comes and goes. However, the soul can find a sense of joy - even at difficult moments.

So to the question: Where is the joy in Judaism?

First and foremost, the rabbis found joy in learning. That may seem a bit strange at the outset, but some of the most joyful, spiritual and connected moments in my life have happened when I was learning. Watch the face of a child when he or she learns something new, when they finally get it and it clicks, and you will see the joy that learning brings. As adults we have forgotten how to learn. We learn only for a purpose—to make a grade or pass a test, to fulfill a requirement or get a job. We have forgotten what is it like to see the world through fresh eyes and to experience the wonder of learning something new.

When I was in Rabbinical School I had a teacher who was probably one of the most influential of my life. His name is Dov Zlotnick and I was in his Mishnah class. The Mishnah is one of the earliest pieces of rabbinic literature and I had already been studying Talmud and other rabbinic works for years before taking what would seem like such a basic class. But I had seen him teach and knew I’d learn something from him.

There were two things that he taught me that I’ll never forget. First, he told us to learn one Mishnah every day. Now a Mishnah is not very long, usually a few sentences, but he insisted that we not try to learn more than that. Spend the time on the one, he said, be in the moment and really learn it.

The second thing he taught me is what ultimately caused me to leave the Doctoral program in Talmud and find my way here. He would say on a regular basis: “Talmud Torah should be a simha, the study of Torah should be a joy, if it is not you are doing it wrong.”

I asked him one day, maybe it is the teacher who is doing it wrong. He said, of course there are always bad teachers, but Judaism teaches us that the power for joy in learning lies with the individual. It is up to me to recognize a moment in my life as a learning moment and find the joy in that. This is shown by the famous story of Elisha ben Abuya and his pupil Rabbi Meir. Elisha was a rabbi, and through a long a tragic story wound up leaving Traditional Judaism behind. One day as he was riding his horse on Shabbat, Rabbi Meir was following along beside him learning Torah. When the other rabbis asked Rabbi Meir how he can learn Torah from that man he replied that Elisha was like a pomegranate. I can throw away the rind, he said, and eat the seeds.

Learning and growth is at the center of finding joy in the world around us. None of us can truly be happy if we say to ourselves, ‘this is all I’ll ever be.” Judaism brings us to the idea that there is always something more to be learned, there is always a way to make ourselves better. Thus we find ourselves here on Yom Kippur.

Now, I believe that it is not enough just to talk about these things, but it is my job as rabbi to find ways to provide opportunities as well. You all know that we have expanded our learning opportunities for years with classes and speakers to allow for each person to find some way to bring learning into their lives. But if we are talking about joy and accomplishment, there is one thing many of our children have had, but that quite a few of us as adults have missed. Every week we see our teens becoming Bar or Bat Mitzvah, but we realize that many adults have never had that opportunity—the chance to learn and come before the congregation reading Torah or leading a part of the service. This year, we reestablish Beth Am’s Adult B’nai Mitzvah program. Many of you have seen the notes regarding the information meetings, and we have a group of 10-12 people already who have made the commitment to find a new connection to their tradition and a sense of pride and joy in who they are.

The program begins in November as is being taught by three master teachers: Hillary Liber , Cantor Judith Bender and Elisheva Edelson. This is a program unlike any we have had in the past decade here at Beth Am and there is still room for you to join and feel the joy that learning and growth can bring.

But learning is not the only way of being Joyful in Judaism, a religion known for being one of action. Psalm 100 tells us, Ivdu Et Hashem B’simha, serve God with Joy, come before Him with song. It is through the things we do as Jews that we truly find our place and our happiness in the world.

For many people the mitzvot have become merely something that we are supposed to check off a list and have lost their true nature of being a joyous act. Rabbi Bahya said that the joy accompanying the carrying out of a religious performance is even more acceptable to God than the 'mitzvah' itself. It is not just the act, but the way in which it is performed that has meaning.

The best example of this is Passover. I have seen many different types of Seders from Ashkenaz to Sephardic, and they all exist to do the same thing. In some way we are supposed to have a meal that reminds us of the Exodus and touches on various symbols the rabbis have set aside to help us remember. We have all been, at one time or another, at the Seder that is so focused on reading every word in the Hagadah that it loses any sense of connection or joy in the event. And yet everything we read about the Seder, even during the Seder itself, talks about creating something that is a memorable and joyful experience.

And so we find ways of bringing joy into the event through stories or skits. I have been at Seders where we all dress up like we were leaving Egypt or where we pretended that we are free Romans having a festive meal. I have seen Seders where the children are involved in the teaching and conversation and where you see the joy and surprise on people’s faces as they open up the door for Elijah and he is standing right there because someone has dressed up and comes in to talk with people.

I remember growing up that at my Grandfather’s Seder we would sing some of the traditional songs, but we would always end with Row, Row, Row your Boat. It took me years to realize that it was not some ancient biblical song about crossing the Red Sea, but we sang it because my grandfather felt that everyone should be able to sing something. It was always the loudest song and people were waiting for it all through the Seder. Families are beginning to reclaim Pesah as a joyful and festive holiday. Perhaps that is one of the reasons it is the most celebrated, even more that tonight.

In less than a week we will be celebrating the Festival of Sukkot, which, according to the Torah is one of the most joyous Holidays of the year. Unfortunately, according to research it is also one of the least celebrated that we have in the calendar. Perhaps it is a matter of timing, five days after the marathon shul experience of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is not really a time to get people to think about yet another Holy Day. And yet our rabbis tell us that this is exactly why we have it.

The work we do on these days of Repentance is tough. To truly look at ourselves and realize where we can improve, to make the changes necessary to actually do that is difficult work. And much like decompression after finals week in college, we need an opportunity to celebrate what we have accomplished. Sukkot is that time where we can go back to the home rituals that bind a family together and celebrate what it means to be a Jewish family and community.

Building and decorating a sukkah allows us to go out and express our Judaism in tangible ways. It is something that everyone can be involved in, young and old, handy or not, there are things to each person can do to make the sukkah more beautiful, just as there are things we can all do to make life more beautiful. We have art projects from each of our children that date back to their first year on earth, and they still find pride and joy when those “masterpieces” hung in our sukkah. Building a sukkah show us that we can all do Jewish, there is something for everyone and it brings people together in joy.

It is for that reason that the Torah tells us regarding Sukkot, V’samahta BeHagekha, on this holy day especially you shall be joyful and celebrate together.

Even more important than bringing us joy in growth or in our mitzvot, Judaism encourages us to find joy in our family and community. Quite often when speaking with people who come from a different background they say to me that the thing they appreciate most about Judaism is its focus on family and being together. That is not to say that Jews don’t suffer from similar problems to the rest of the world—tension, conflict, and families breaking up are a part of our world as well, but there is a different focus within our tradition. And it stems from this concept of being joyful.

The Jewish view of marriage and family is rather unique when compared with other traditions. We are not here on earth merely to procreate, although that is clearly part of our purpose. We come together in families to find a partner in life, an ezer kenegdo as the Torah tells us. We come together to bring happiness and joy to our lives, and within Judaism that is an acceptable and laudable reason.

It is to this purpose, I believe, that Shabbat has become so crucial within the rabbinic world. The rabbis saw Shabbat a powerful mechanism for expressing joy. No matter what is happening in our lives, no matter how stressful work is or what problems we may be having with the kids or our spouse, every week we come together and take a break. It is sort of a reverse time out. Instead of spending time apart, we spend time together.

But, my friends, we all know how difficult that is in today’s world. Statistics show that the number of families who eat together even one meal a week is dropping. With many of us in two career households with our children so busy with school and extracurricular activities it is amazing that we even recognize each other. I remember a comic in the newspaper a few years back with the children calling the police on an intruder in the house only to find out that it was in fact their father. We can chuckle, but the more we think about it the sadder that comic strip actually becomes.

How can we hope to find joy in family if we never have the chance to be together? That is the power of Shabbat. To take us out of the chaotic world in which we live and, as Rabbi Heschel said, “create a palace in time.” A time to be together and find joy.

Many of you saw the flyer in the Mahzorim on Rosh Hashanah with a save the date for our Family Retreat weekend this December. Tonight, on the night we look to improve ourselves, I encourage all of you to join me and my family on this weekend. Take a break from the hustle and bustle and spend some time together with family and friends.

As a rabbi I know that one of the best ways to share Shabbat with other families and to get to know them is to invite them over to be a guest at our home and share a Shabbat meal. Unfortunately, we don’t have enough space in our dining room for all of you, but we have selected a beautiful location at Camp Mountain Chai, and Debbie and I would love you to join our family as we find ways of capturing the joy of Shabbat.

Our tradition is rich in opportunities for joy and celebration on almost every day of the year except for today. So why then have I selected to speak about Joy on Kol Nidrei? Because as important and powerful as the next 24 hours are, they are not really the answer to the question why be Jewish. Yom Kippur is a tool, not the goal. It is an opportunity for reflection and change, but it does not ultimately bring to us that to which we should change. That comes during the rest of the year.

To take the music analogy we began with a bit further. If Judaism were a radio station, Yom Kippur is the commercial. It is there to help us accomplish the things we need to get done. The rest of the year is the program.

It is my prayer for this coming year that we fulfill the words of the Psalmist, “Let us sing to God a new song.” A song of joy and celebration. A song of family and community.