What Makes a Jew Jewish? (A Response to "The SY Empire")
It is now the most famous Rabbinic proclamation in New York. An 1935 edict issued by the Rabbinate of the Syrian Jewish community was the focus of an article in the New York Times last week. As the article explains:
Most American Jewish communities in those days (and many today) viewed intermarriage as a taboo. Conversion, however, was a loophole. The Edict intended to close that loophole. It proclaimed, ''No male or female member of our community has the right to intermarry with non-Jews; this law covers conversion, which we consider to be fictitious and valueless.''
A 1946 clarification added specifics: ''The rabbi will not perform Religious Ceremonies'' for such unkosher couples. ''The Congregation's premises will be banned to them for use of any religious or social nature. . . . After death of said person, he or she is not to be buried on the Cemetery of our community . . . regardless of financial considerations.''
With these words, Chief Rabbi Jacob Kassin effectively excommunicated any member of his flock who married a partner with gentile blood….
I mean no disrespect to any of the 225 rabbis who have signed onto this edict. But this edict is absolutely wrong, period.
I’m sure a hundred sermons have noted the proper Jewish attitude towards conversion. Included in the responses will be references to multiple sources, such as Rashi’s statement that says that Abraham and Sarah our ancestors were missionaries and that “Abraham would convert the men, and Sarah would convert the women… (Gen. Rabbah 39:14)”. Or Maimonides’ explanation, in a letter to Obadiah the Convert, that the pedigree of converts is greater than that of a natural born Jews:
Let not your ancestry be insignificant in your eyes. Because if we trace our ancestry to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, then you trace yours to the Lord Himself.
And of course, any discussion of conversion must cite the Mishna that says it is a sin to discriminate against a proselyte on the basis of their origin (Bava Metzia 58b).
But forget questions of human dignity and/or political correctness for a moment. This edict gets to the heart of a fundamental question: What makes a Jew Jewish?
This edict, (as it is now percieved by some*), defines Jewish identity as having Jewish blood. As Jakie Kassin, the grandson of the edict’s author explains:
''Never accept a convert or a child born of a convert,''…. ''Push them away with strong hands from our community. Why? Because we don't want gentile characteristics.''
Here you have a simple, chauvinistic explanation of Jewish identity; Jews are Jewish because they have Jewish blood. Jews are a tribe apart, genetically destined to be different than everyone else. Surprisingly, this tribal vision is often subscribed to by marginally involved Jews; they turn their nose up at anything related to Torah, but still expect their children to marry a member of the tribe.
I believe tribalism is one of the greatest threats to the future of the Jewish people**. A Jewish identity that is fixated on tribalism must marginalize spirituality. The tribal consciousness worries about one thing: keeping the tribe together. So, instead of focusing on the Jewish mission to transform the world, tribal Jews seek to build walls to hold others out.
But authentic Judaism was never about genetics. What makes a Jew Jewish is a unique spiritual outlook. Central to this outlook is the desire to transform the world. Ido Hevroni explains the covenantal sign of circumcision this way:
…we find a position represented throughout the Hebraic tradition, from Genesis to the prophets to the rabbinic tradition. This position is unwilling to accept the world as it is, and is therefore characterized by a restless, uncompromising desire for improvement. This view takes on symbolic application with the severance of the foreskin, the marking of the most impulsive organ of the human body with an open and blunt statement: Man is not an animal. Man shares with God the ability to stand outside of and apart from nature. Man is a creation whose horizon of aspirations lies far beyond the satisfaction of his natural impulses. Man wants to change, even to create, the world.
Circumcision, like the rest of the Torah, is about transformation. We can change nature, we can change history, we can change the world. Indeed, the greatest Rabbi of the Talmudic era, Rabbi Akiva, transformed himself from ignorant shepherd into insightful teacher. It is no surprise that according to one tradition, {R. Nissim Gaon, Berachot 27b}, R. Akiva is the descendent of converts. Akiva, like Abraham, reinvents himself and refuses to accept the status quo. Akiva is such an effective teacher of Torah because he embodies spiritual transformation, the very attribute the Torah is founded on.
The best rejoinder to the philosophy of tribal Judaism is the fact that tribalists could never have accepted or appreciated a Rabbi Akiva. But today, tribal philosophies of Judaism may be facing a greater challenge: America.
21st century North America is the graveyard of tribes. Various groups, from the Greeks to the Italians to the Armenians, have tried valiantly to hang on to their culture. But the allure of being assimilated into the mainstream has been too strong a force to hold off assimilation.
Jewish tribalists may try to build walls to hold everyone else out. They may find short term success in doing so. But in the end these walls are fated to crumble; no wall is strong enough to stop the onslaught of the American melting pot.
Jewish continuity will only succeed if we can inspire our fellow Jews and all of humanity to embrace the values of the Torah. Each of us must light a fire within that will spread to those around us, transforming ourselves and the rest of the world.
Which is exactly what Abraham envisioned, right at the beginning of the Jewish people.
**(Please note I am not arguing whether or not the Syrian community has been successful in holding off intermarriage. But this community, with a deeply religious, tight knit and committed base, probably could have been equally successful without ostracizing converts or embracing chauvinistic misunderstandings of Jewish identity.)
* (please see the next post)
Monday, October 22, 2007
Saturday, October 13, 2007
What’s on Your List?
You need to make a new list. In fact, your soul depends on it.
Human beings are listmakers; it’s what distinguishes us from the animals. (No, that’s not a joke!!).
We make lists for:
Meetings
Phone numbers
Plans
Finances
Tasks
Phone calls
Shopping
Proposals
Sermon ideas (I’m a Rabbi, ok!!)
Sometimes we need a list to keep track of all the lists.
There’s one list I’m working on now. And it’s the most important list anyone can make.
There is a story told about a Chassidic Rebbe and a beloved disciple. Chassidic practice is that the disciples of the Rebbe bring him a kvitl, a note. On this note is a list of things the disciple wants his Rabbi to pray for. One day the loyal disciple visits the rabbi with a kvitl that contains a long list of requests, for every possible wish.
The Rebbe took a long look at the list, and pushed the kvitl back. He looked at the disciple, and said: “you’ve thought a lot about what you need. But have you thought about why you are needed?”
Despite the apparent rejection, the disciple was ecstatic. His friends were puzzled; why was the disciple so happy? After all didn’t the rabbi just reject him?
The disciple explained that from his perspective, the Rebbe had taught him something precious. The Rebbe had implied that he, the simple disciple, was needed in this world.
The disciple got it right. To be needed is the greatest joy. And to find out why we are needed is our greatest obligation.
The 18th century Italian Rabbi, Moshe Chaim Luzzato, begins his classic work, the Path of the Just, by saying that the most fundamental idea in Judaism is to know what our obligation in this world is. To live a meaningful life requires a different type of list, one that lists all the reasons why the world needs us.
In our consumer driven culture, people work hard, and shop hard. Yuppie life has become a well oiled machine, where lists organize our time around commerce and consumption. But there’s barely a moment for the soul, and the most important list remains empty: an answer to the question “why am I needed?”.
I am making this list for the first time. It’s a frightening but exciting process. Why are we needed? To call Mom? To hug the wife and kids? And to accomplish this….or is it to accomplish…that? Or maybe something else…..hmm…I’ve got to figure that out.
You are needed – that’s why God put you on this earth. So make the list. You’ll find it intimidating, exhilarating and confusing.
It will be the only list you ever really need.
You need to make a new list. In fact, your soul depends on it.
Human beings are listmakers; it’s what distinguishes us from the animals. (No, that’s not a joke!!).
We make lists for:
Meetings
Phone numbers
Plans
Finances
Tasks
Phone calls
Shopping
Proposals
Sermon ideas (I’m a Rabbi, ok!!)
Sometimes we need a list to keep track of all the lists.
There’s one list I’m working on now. And it’s the most important list anyone can make.
There is a story told about a Chassidic Rebbe and a beloved disciple. Chassidic practice is that the disciples of the Rebbe bring him a kvitl, a note. On this note is a list of things the disciple wants his Rabbi to pray for. One day the loyal disciple visits the rabbi with a kvitl that contains a long list of requests, for every possible wish.
The Rebbe took a long look at the list, and pushed the kvitl back. He looked at the disciple, and said: “you’ve thought a lot about what you need. But have you thought about why you are needed?”
Despite the apparent rejection, the disciple was ecstatic. His friends were puzzled; why was the disciple so happy? After all didn’t the rabbi just reject him?
The disciple explained that from his perspective, the Rebbe had taught him something precious. The Rebbe had implied that he, the simple disciple, was needed in this world.
The disciple got it right. To be needed is the greatest joy. And to find out why we are needed is our greatest obligation.
The 18th century Italian Rabbi, Moshe Chaim Luzzato, begins his classic work, the Path of the Just, by saying that the most fundamental idea in Judaism is to know what our obligation in this world is. To live a meaningful life requires a different type of list, one that lists all the reasons why the world needs us.
In our consumer driven culture, people work hard, and shop hard. Yuppie life has become a well oiled machine, where lists organize our time around commerce and consumption. But there’s barely a moment for the soul, and the most important list remains empty: an answer to the question “why am I needed?”.
I am making this list for the first time. It’s a frightening but exciting process. Why are we needed? To call Mom? To hug the wife and kids? And to accomplish this….or is it to accomplish…that? Or maybe something else…..hmm…I’ve got to figure that out.
You are needed – that’s why God put you on this earth. So make the list. You’ll find it intimidating, exhilarating and confusing.
It will be the only list you ever really need.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Christmas, Salmon, and Jewish Continuity
I’ve been annoyed since Christmas.
Cindy Chupack, the executive producer of “Sex in the City”, is Jewish. And last Christmas, in an article in the New York Times, she declared that she was celebrating Christmas.
Chupack blames the Pottery Barn holiday catalog for her heterodoxy. Overwhelmed by a desire for Christmas Decorations, Stocking Stuffers and Gingerbread Houses, Chupack surrendered to the temptations of kitsch.
Now, I have nothing against gingerbread houses. What disturbed me deeply about the article was the assumption that being Jewish was about having fun.
Chupack repeats the mantra of her childhood: “eight nights is better than one.” Child after child was urged to observe Chanukah instead of Christmas, because Chanukah has more nights, and more gifts. In other words, Chanukah, and Judaism, is more fun.
Actually, the “fun theory” of Judaism is quite widespread. It can be found in multiple books, touting Jewish practice as a multi-purpose tonic, useful for family dysfunction, financial success, and even sexual prowess.
The “fun theory” of Judaism also has deep roots. Maimonides explains the kosher laws as health regulations, topping off his discussion by noting that that Jews don’t eat pigs, because they are unhealthy, dirty animals.
But Maimonides and the “fun theory” are wrong. In fact, Chupack’s article unintentionally unravels the fun theory of Judaism. What if pig is healthy? What if Christmas is more fun? Isn’t Judaism about the fun?
No, it isn’t. Anyone with a passing acquaintance with Jewish History knows that Jews didn’t always have fun being Jewish. Yet we remained Jews because it was, and is, the right thing to do. Indeed, the Torah explains that God chose Abraham in order “that he may command his children…after him, that they may keep the way of the LORD, and do righteousness and justice”.
Too often, we employ “fun theory” types of projects in the service of Jewish continuity. A fashionable and fun event for young Jews is organized without a shred of authentic Judaic content. As laudable as the intent behind these projects is, we need to realize that good fashion will not sustain Judaism. No matter how fashionable a Jewish project may be, there’s always a Pottery Barn catalogue about to arrive with even more fashionable Christmas decorations.
With materialism eroding our spiritual values, and assimilation pressuring a minority community like ours, fun theory is futile. I believe that the answer to Jewish continuity is found in the salmon.
Yes, I said salmon. Why? Because salmon instinctively swim upstream. We need to learn from the salmon that continuity is a difficult, upstream battle. And we need recognize that only an authentic Jewish instinct for justice and spirituality will sustain the Jewish people.
We don’t need better Chanukah decorations to ensure Jewish continuity. Rather, what our community really needs is a greater emphasis on Jewish content and practice, and a few good salmon, willing to swim upstream.
I’ve been annoyed since Christmas.
Cindy Chupack, the executive producer of “Sex in the City”, is Jewish. And last Christmas, in an article in the New York Times, she declared that she was celebrating Christmas.
Chupack blames the Pottery Barn holiday catalog for her heterodoxy. Overwhelmed by a desire for Christmas Decorations, Stocking Stuffers and Gingerbread Houses, Chupack surrendered to the temptations of kitsch.
Now, I have nothing against gingerbread houses. What disturbed me deeply about the article was the assumption that being Jewish was about having fun.
Chupack repeats the mantra of her childhood: “eight nights is better than one.” Child after child was urged to observe Chanukah instead of Christmas, because Chanukah has more nights, and more gifts. In other words, Chanukah, and Judaism, is more fun.
Actually, the “fun theory” of Judaism is quite widespread. It can be found in multiple books, touting Jewish practice as a multi-purpose tonic, useful for family dysfunction, financial success, and even sexual prowess.
The “fun theory” of Judaism also has deep roots. Maimonides explains the kosher laws as health regulations, topping off his discussion by noting that that Jews don’t eat pigs, because they are unhealthy, dirty animals.
But Maimonides and the “fun theory” are wrong. In fact, Chupack’s article unintentionally unravels the fun theory of Judaism. What if pig is healthy? What if Christmas is more fun? Isn’t Judaism about the fun?
No, it isn’t. Anyone with a passing acquaintance with Jewish History knows that Jews didn’t always have fun being Jewish. Yet we remained Jews because it was, and is, the right thing to do. Indeed, the Torah explains that God chose Abraham in order “that he may command his children…after him, that they may keep the way of the LORD, and do righteousness and justice”.
Too often, we employ “fun theory” types of projects in the service of Jewish continuity. A fashionable and fun event for young Jews is organized without a shred of authentic Judaic content. As laudable as the intent behind these projects is, we need to realize that good fashion will not sustain Judaism. No matter how fashionable a Jewish project may be, there’s always a Pottery Barn catalogue about to arrive with even more fashionable Christmas decorations.
With materialism eroding our spiritual values, and assimilation pressuring a minority community like ours, fun theory is futile. I believe that the answer to Jewish continuity is found in the salmon.
Yes, I said salmon. Why? Because salmon instinctively swim upstream. We need to learn from the salmon that continuity is a difficult, upstream battle. And we need recognize that only an authentic Jewish instinct for justice and spirituality will sustain the Jewish people.
We don’t need better Chanukah decorations to ensure Jewish continuity. Rather, what our community really needs is a greater emphasis on Jewish content and practice, and a few good salmon, willing to swim upstream.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
Unhappy Millionaires
It’s the classic "man bites dog" headline: “Millionaires Who Don’t Feel Rich”.
The New York Times’ story is about the Silicon Valley. It’s an area with so many billionaires and mega-millionaires, that the average, single digit millionaire feels like a nobody. The report in the Times says that:
“People around here, if they have 2 or 3 million dollars, they don’t feel secure,” said David W. Hettig, an estate planner based in Menlo Park who has advised Silicon Valley’s wealthy for two decades.”
So there you have it: unhappy millionaires. For the Rabbis, this unhappiness is easy to understand. Pirkei Avot teaches us:
"Who is rich? He who is satisfied with his lot."
Of course, this discontent is often fueled by pure jealousy:
“Everyone around here looks at the people above them,” said Gary Kremen, the 43-year-old founder of Match.com, a popular online dating service. “It’s just like Wall Street, where there are all these financial guys worth $7 million wondering what’s so special about them when there are all these guys worth in the hundreds of millions of dollars.”
Mr. Kremen estimated his net worth at $10 million. That puts him firmly in the top half of 1 percent among Americans, according to wealth data from the Federal Reserve, but barely in the top echelons in affluent towns like Palo Alto, Menlo Park and Atherton. So he logs 60- to 80-hour workweeks because, he said, he does not think he has nearly enough money to ease up.
“You’re nobody here at $10 million,” Mr. Kremen said earnestly over a glass of pinot noir at an upscale wine bar here."
It would be easy to mock these yuppie millionaires and their foolish insecurities. But for the most part, the people interviewed in the article are intelligent and thoughtful. They have thought a lot about their choices; but they feel driven and overwhelmed at the same time. What are they doing wrong?
Well, what they're doing right is working. People need to work hard. Even if ambition is rooted in some of our baser instincts, ambition is still very important.
The Talmud has pointed out (as did Adam Smith), without self interest and ambition, the world would not develop. We need productive, hard working people, no matter how large their bank accounts may be.
But even the Type A’s need to learn how to appreciate life. Ambition is wonderful, as long as it doesn't destroy our lives.
To this end, the Bible offers a simple formula:
Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work; but the seventh day is a Sabbath unto the LORD thy God, in it thou shalt not do any manner of work…
The Torah is reminding us that one must both work and rest. First, work six days and be productive. God made man in his image, to be creative and to improve the world.
However, with all of that work, man must still remember his own limitations, and that the divine blessing of life needs to be savored as well. That’s why one day a week, you need to put your ambition aside, sit back, and savor the world around you.
So to all those unhappy millionaires out there: Six days a week in the Silicon Valley, work away; but on the Sabbath, rest your ambitions and let your soul loose.
I can assure you that you’ll feel like a million dollars!
It’s the classic "man bites dog" headline: “Millionaires Who Don’t Feel Rich”.
The New York Times’ story is about the Silicon Valley. It’s an area with so many billionaires and mega-millionaires, that the average, single digit millionaire feels like a nobody. The report in the Times says that:
“People around here, if they have 2 or 3 million dollars, they don’t feel secure,” said David W. Hettig, an estate planner based in Menlo Park who has advised Silicon Valley’s wealthy for two decades.”
So there you have it: unhappy millionaires. For the Rabbis, this unhappiness is easy to understand. Pirkei Avot teaches us:
"Who is rich? He who is satisfied with his lot."
Of course, this discontent is often fueled by pure jealousy:
“Everyone around here looks at the people above them,” said Gary Kremen, the 43-year-old founder of Match.com, a popular online dating service. “It’s just like Wall Street, where there are all these financial guys worth $7 million wondering what’s so special about them when there are all these guys worth in the hundreds of millions of dollars.”
Mr. Kremen estimated his net worth at $10 million. That puts him firmly in the top half of 1 percent among Americans, according to wealth data from the Federal Reserve, but barely in the top echelons in affluent towns like Palo Alto, Menlo Park and Atherton. So he logs 60- to 80-hour workweeks because, he said, he does not think he has nearly enough money to ease up.
“You’re nobody here at $10 million,” Mr. Kremen said earnestly over a glass of pinot noir at an upscale wine bar here."
It would be easy to mock these yuppie millionaires and their foolish insecurities. But for the most part, the people interviewed in the article are intelligent and thoughtful. They have thought a lot about their choices; but they feel driven and overwhelmed at the same time. What are they doing wrong?
Well, what they're doing right is working. People need to work hard. Even if ambition is rooted in some of our baser instincts, ambition is still very important.
The Talmud has pointed out (as did Adam Smith), without self interest and ambition, the world would not develop. We need productive, hard working people, no matter how large their bank accounts may be.
But even the Type A’s need to learn how to appreciate life. Ambition is wonderful, as long as it doesn't destroy our lives.
To this end, the Bible offers a simple formula:
Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work; but the seventh day is a Sabbath unto the LORD thy God, in it thou shalt not do any manner of work…
The Torah is reminding us that one must both work and rest. First, work six days and be productive. God made man in his image, to be creative and to improve the world.
However, with all of that work, man must still remember his own limitations, and that the divine blessing of life needs to be savored as well. That’s why one day a week, you need to put your ambition aside, sit back, and savor the world around you.
So to all those unhappy millionaires out there: Six days a week in the Silicon Valley, work away; but on the Sabbath, rest your ambitions and let your soul loose.
I can assure you that you’ll feel like a million dollars!
Thursday, August 16, 2007
The Joys of Cancer??
It’s hard to see a silver lining to cancer.
The very word cancer strikes fear into most people’s hearts. In Yiddish, the word cancer is avoided, and usually referred to as “yener machala” (“that disease”). So why on earth has Betty Rollin written a book about the bright side of cancer?
Well, because she’s a cancer survivor. Having lost a mother to cancer, and battled cancer twice herself, she can speak with some authority on the subject. She recounts in her most recent book that:
“I woke up one morning and realized I was happy. This struck me as weird. Not that I didn’t have all kinds of things to be happy about — love, work, good health, enough money, the usual happy-making stuff. The weird part is, I realized that the source of my happiness was, of all things, cancer — that cancer had everything to do with how good the good parts of my life were.”
Believe it or not, Rollins’ reaction to her disease is far from unique. An article in the New York Times lists several authors who have written about finding happiness while struggling with cancer. One author, Wendy Schlessel Harpham, put it this way:
“Without a doubt, illness is bad, yet survivorship — from the time of diagnosis and for the balance of life — can include times of great joy among the hardships. You can find happiness.”
Finding happiness while suffering from cancer seems impossible. Yet remarkably enough, several cancer survivors in the article agreed with Lance Armstrong’s sentiment that “cancer was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
(I have to stop for a moment to add a disclaimer. Having observed too many times the havoc cancer wreaks, I know that one must write with sensitivity on this difficult subject. It is even more important to remember that each situation is unique, and certainly no patient or family should be judged by how “positive” or “negative” other people were. One must also remember, that even those patients who have reported positive experiences are not positive all the time; the “happy” ones cry a lot and suffer as well. And it would be a crime if the observations of these authors were used to make any person suffering or mourning feel guilty for not being “positive enough”.)
This notion is counterintuitive. Cancer makes it much harder to be happy. If it’s so difficult to grab a few moments of happiness, how happy can you really be?
Really happy. These authors have stumbled on the essence of the human spirit: the harder we try, the sweeter the success.
A concept championed by Kabbalists is the idea of the “bread of shame”. The Kabbalists believe that God created the world out love for mankind, so they can do good deeds and be rewarded for them. Well, if that’s so, ask the Kabbalists, why would God make being good so difficult?
The response is based on the analogy of the “bread of shame’. A person gains much more joy from a piece of bread he earned by his own hard work, than he does from a piece of bread handed to him. There is nothing more precious to human beings than their independence, their ability to be the masters of their own lives. When someone is handed a loaf of bread, they are embarrassed, because they have lost their independence and must beg for bread of shame.
For this reason following the good path is always difficult. To be good because it’s easy to be good would compromise human greatness, and would deprive man of his ability to choose his own destiny. If God had made it easy for us to be good, the rewards given for goodness would be the “bread of shame”. When we have to work hard to achieve the goal of goodness, the unique satisfaction of that triumph is the greatest reward.
These authors, writing about the joys of cancer, have stumbled on the concept of the “bread of shame”. When you must battle to find joy and happiness in times of difficulty, that hard fought joy is so much sweeter than anything else.
Happiness warriors know how hard we all have to battle for happiness. But we know that it is actually the battle itself that makes the achievement even more satisfying. Happiness is not served up on silver platters; but when you manage to create it on your own, it is a remarkable experience.
"betty rollin"
cancer
happiness
It’s hard to see a silver lining to cancer.
The very word cancer strikes fear into most people’s hearts. In Yiddish, the word cancer is avoided, and usually referred to as “yener machala” (“that disease”). So why on earth has Betty Rollin written a book about the bright side of cancer?
Well, because she’s a cancer survivor. Having lost a mother to cancer, and battled cancer twice herself, she can speak with some authority on the subject. She recounts in her most recent book that:
“I woke up one morning and realized I was happy. This struck me as weird. Not that I didn’t have all kinds of things to be happy about — love, work, good health, enough money, the usual happy-making stuff. The weird part is, I realized that the source of my happiness was, of all things, cancer — that cancer had everything to do with how good the good parts of my life were.”
Believe it or not, Rollins’ reaction to her disease is far from unique. An article in the New York Times lists several authors who have written about finding happiness while struggling with cancer. One author, Wendy Schlessel Harpham, put it this way:
“Without a doubt, illness is bad, yet survivorship — from the time of diagnosis and for the balance of life — can include times of great joy among the hardships. You can find happiness.”
Finding happiness while suffering from cancer seems impossible. Yet remarkably enough, several cancer survivors in the article agreed with Lance Armstrong’s sentiment that “cancer was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
(I have to stop for a moment to add a disclaimer. Having observed too many times the havoc cancer wreaks, I know that one must write with sensitivity on this difficult subject. It is even more important to remember that each situation is unique, and certainly no patient or family should be judged by how “positive” or “negative” other people were. One must also remember, that even those patients who have reported positive experiences are not positive all the time; the “happy” ones cry a lot and suffer as well. And it would be a crime if the observations of these authors were used to make any person suffering or mourning feel guilty for not being “positive enough”.)
This notion is counterintuitive. Cancer makes it much harder to be happy. If it’s so difficult to grab a few moments of happiness, how happy can you really be?
Really happy. These authors have stumbled on the essence of the human spirit: the harder we try, the sweeter the success.
A concept championed by Kabbalists is the idea of the “bread of shame”. The Kabbalists believe that God created the world out love for mankind, so they can do good deeds and be rewarded for them. Well, if that’s so, ask the Kabbalists, why would God make being good so difficult?
The response is based on the analogy of the “bread of shame’. A person gains much more joy from a piece of bread he earned by his own hard work, than he does from a piece of bread handed to him. There is nothing more precious to human beings than their independence, their ability to be the masters of their own lives. When someone is handed a loaf of bread, they are embarrassed, because they have lost their independence and must beg for bread of shame.
For this reason following the good path is always difficult. To be good because it’s easy to be good would compromise human greatness, and would deprive man of his ability to choose his own destiny. If God had made it easy for us to be good, the rewards given for goodness would be the “bread of shame”. When we have to work hard to achieve the goal of goodness, the unique satisfaction of that triumph is the greatest reward.
These authors, writing about the joys of cancer, have stumbled on the concept of the “bread of shame”. When you must battle to find joy and happiness in times of difficulty, that hard fought joy is so much sweeter than anything else.
Happiness warriors know how hard we all have to battle for happiness. But we know that it is actually the battle itself that makes the achievement even more satisfying. Happiness is not served up on silver platters; but when you manage to create it on your own, it is a remarkable experience.
"betty rollin"cancerhappiness
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
5 Minute Jewish Wisdom
I’m starting a series soon on Radio Shalom, Montreal’s Jewish radio station, of short inspirational commentaries. They will comment on passages in an ancient Jewish book, Pirkei Avot (Chapters of the Fathers), and center on insights related to day to day life: on proper judgment, the pros and cons of snobbery, the importance of focus, etc. Below is a written version of the first commentary, on the first Mishna (passage) in Chapters of the Fathers.
pirkei avot
Be Deliberate in Judgment
The first Mishnah in Pirkei Avot says:
The Men of the Great Assembly said three things: Be deliberate in judgment, raise many students, and make a protective fence for the Torah."
This Mishna is primarily intended as advice for judges; deliberate carefully before rendering judgment.
But the genius of this Mishna goes beyond the jurist, and provides excellent advice for the average man in the street.
The advice is simple: Don’t rush to judgment!!
All of us, whether or not we are judges, have to make hundreds of judgments a day.
You meet someone, you have to judge their personality; you buy something, you have to judge its value; you make plans, you have to judge their usefulness. We’re constantly judging every aspect of the world around us.
The Mishna is reminding all of us to judge carefully and methodically. Snap judgments are often corrupted by preconceived notions and emotional responses.
Many people have made foolish snap judgments.
An executive director at a large charity in Toronto (who will remain anonymous) can tell you about judging someone by their appearance. An older man in a rumpled suit and somewhat gruff manner showed up in his office one day, asking to join his board. The executive director dismissed him immediately, assuming that a lack of fashion sense and social graces meant he had little to offer. Unfortunately, he soon found out that he had turned away someone who was about to become one of Toronto’s largest philanthropists. Like all snap judgments, judging a book by its cover is simply knee jerk stupidity.
Richard Jewell can tell you about preconceived notions. On July 27, 1996, during the Summer Olympics, Jewell alerted the Atlanta police about a suspicious package that turned out to be a bomb. Because some of the elements in Jewell’s life resembled a hypothetical FBI profile of the bomber, the FBI immediately assumed Jewell was guilty. Only on October 25th, 3 months later, did the FBI realize they had besmirched the reputation of the one true hero of that July evening.
Jesse Ramirez can tell you about emotional decisions made in haste. As the Arizona Republic reports:
“Ramirez suffered major brain injuries in a car accident on May 30. Doctors said the injuries could have left him blind or in a permanent vegetative state.On June 8, his wife, Rebecca, asked doctors to remove his food and water tubes….Now, he can hug and kiss, nod his head, answer yes and no questions, give a thumbs-up sign and sit in a chair...”
Luckily, Jesse didn’t die because the rest of his family stopped his wife from removing life support. But it’s not just Jesse; hasty hospital decisions affect a lot of people. I see people overwhelmed by emotion, frightened that they will have to watch a loved one linger in a permanent vegetative state, make foolish and hasty decisions about a relative’s life. Tragically, snap decisions made in an ICU have life and death consequences.
The Mishna is advising judges to be thorough in researching a verdict. But its advice goes beyond judges. It is reminding the rest of us, who make multiple judgments every day, never to rush to judgment.
"jesse ramirez"
pirkei avot
"persistent vegatative state"
I’m starting a series soon on Radio Shalom, Montreal’s Jewish radio station, of short inspirational commentaries. They will comment on passages in an ancient Jewish book, Pirkei Avot (Chapters of the Fathers), and center on insights related to day to day life: on proper judgment, the pros and cons of snobbery, the importance of focus, etc. Below is a written version of the first commentary, on the first Mishna (passage) in Chapters of the Fathers.
pirkei avotBe Deliberate in Judgment
The first Mishnah in Pirkei Avot says:
The Men of the Great Assembly said three things: Be deliberate in judgment, raise many students, and make a protective fence for the Torah."
This Mishna is primarily intended as advice for judges; deliberate carefully before rendering judgment.
But the genius of this Mishna goes beyond the jurist, and provides excellent advice for the average man in the street.
The advice is simple: Don’t rush to judgment!!
All of us, whether or not we are judges, have to make hundreds of judgments a day.
You meet someone, you have to judge their personality; you buy something, you have to judge its value; you make plans, you have to judge their usefulness. We’re constantly judging every aspect of the world around us.
The Mishna is reminding all of us to judge carefully and methodically. Snap judgments are often corrupted by preconceived notions and emotional responses.
Many people have made foolish snap judgments.
An executive director at a large charity in Toronto (who will remain anonymous) can tell you about judging someone by their appearance. An older man in a rumpled suit and somewhat gruff manner showed up in his office one day, asking to join his board. The executive director dismissed him immediately, assuming that a lack of fashion sense and social graces meant he had little to offer. Unfortunately, he soon found out that he had turned away someone who was about to become one of Toronto’s largest philanthropists. Like all snap judgments, judging a book by its cover is simply knee jerk stupidity.
Richard Jewell can tell you about preconceived notions. On July 27, 1996, during the Summer Olympics, Jewell alerted the Atlanta police about a suspicious package that turned out to be a bomb. Because some of the elements in Jewell’s life resembled a hypothetical FBI profile of the bomber, the FBI immediately assumed Jewell was guilty. Only on October 25th, 3 months later, did the FBI realize they had besmirched the reputation of the one true hero of that July evening.
Jesse Ramirez can tell you about emotional decisions made in haste. As the Arizona Republic reports:
“Ramirez suffered major brain injuries in a car accident on May 30. Doctors said the injuries could have left him blind or in a permanent vegetative state.On June 8, his wife, Rebecca, asked doctors to remove his food and water tubes….Now, he can hug and kiss, nod his head, answer yes and no questions, give a thumbs-up sign and sit in a chair...”
Luckily, Jesse didn’t die because the rest of his family stopped his wife from removing life support. But it’s not just Jesse; hasty hospital decisions affect a lot of people. I see people overwhelmed by emotion, frightened that they will have to watch a loved one linger in a permanent vegetative state, make foolish and hasty decisions about a relative’s life. Tragically, snap decisions made in an ICU have life and death consequences.
The Mishna is advising judges to be thorough in researching a verdict. But its advice goes beyond judges. It is reminding the rest of us, who make multiple judgments every day, never to rush to judgment.
"jesse ramirez"pirkei avot"persistent vegatative state"
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