For the fact is that in the past, even when things have been great, Jews have always found something to complain about. I recall when the historian Jonathan Sarna visited us in 2005 as a scholar in residence and he proclaimed that there was no real crisis of Jewish continuity, at a time when that's all we were kvetching about. Sarna's main point, as spelled out in a 1994 article of his in Commentary, was that prophecies of gloom and doom have always been with us, but:
Previous predictions of American Jewish decline and demise have proved utterly wrong—just as wrong as their opposites, the glowing prophecies of a new “Zion in America” dispensed by uncritical optimists.
He notes that Look magazine dedicated a widely-discussed 1964 cover story to “The Vanishing American Jew."
"Today," Sarna adds, "Look itself has vanished—not just once but twice—while the Jewish people lives on." That classic article in Look has often been the subject of derision in Jewish academic circles, for instance this piece in eJewishphilanthropy, written last year, which reminded us that both Purim and Passover celebrate the ability of the Jewish people to survive against insurmountable odds. It turned out to be just plain wrong.
So if we survived Pharaoh and Haman, and even Look Magazine, should we really be so afraid of Elon Musk and a few misguided Ivy League presidents?
I understand that Foer is not proclaiming the end of the Jewish people on these Golden Shores, just the end of our Golden Age. Both Look's article and the 1990's continuity crisis were far more foreboding. And both prophecies of doom could not have turned out to be more laughable. Assimilation did not lead to our disappearance then. But will antisemitism now?
No doubt we have lots to worry about, but we worry even when things aren't so bad. The past half century may have been a Golden Age for American Jewry, but not for a moment did we stop worrying. Perhaps only now can we understand how good we had it. And maybe the more salient message of Foer's piece is that we may not be noticing that golden things are still happening right now, right under our - ahem - non prosthetic noses, Bradley Cooper.. As bad as things seem, we should still look for ways to be happy, especially in this our happiest month.
In the words of Psalm 34:12:
Who is the one who seeks life, embraces every day and sees the good?
That person, the one whose outlook is imbued with hope - who sees the glass as half full - who pursues life and seeks peace. That is the person who is truly happy.
How could such a glass-half-full religion be gifted to such a glass-half-empty people, one that refuses to take "Yes!" for an answer, one that refuses to "see the good?"
Yes, things are less than optimal right now for American Jews. But I've seen enough to know two things:
1) The embers of antisemitism will never be completely snuffed out. They always emerge, on the right and on the left. Just as the "idea" of Hamas can never be truly destroyed in Gaza. With support, however, hate can be held at bay - that's what happened in Germany after the Holocaust. But we can't quell hate alone. Still, we've managed to thrive in uncertain times before, and we can again.
2) Elections matter. A fortuitous change of government in Israel could make all the difference. Not that lions will suddenly lie down with lambs, but we've seen before - just a couple of years ago - that the Bennett-Lapid government was able to frame the conversations about Israel in much more positive directions than the current Knesset crew. Benny Gantz came to Washington today and the usual histrionics were kept to a minimum. Taking the temperature down a few degrees won't solve the problem completely, but it certainly helps. I pray for a new Israeli government, and when that happens, I personally would not object to a high government position for Noa Tishby. She spoke to 4,000 Jewish teens a few weeks ago - remarks you can see excerpted below. I'd like Israel to invest in cloning her and placing a Noa Tishby on every campus in the country. But my point is that elections can change attitudes overnight, empowering forces for stability, reason and tolerance that can help to bend that arc toward justice. Better, more coherent and well-explained policies can make a difference.
It's Adar, so we should be happy, despite the threats and the hate. But how?
One of my favorite sermons of the past 37 years, delivered on Yom Kippur Day 2014, was about happiness.
In that sermon, I shared ten keys to a life of happiness:
Here are a few of them. I hope they will help all of us, including maybe Franklin Foer, to navigate these hard times with a little more hope.
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- Nachman of Bratzlav said, “If you are not happy, pretend to be. Even if you are totally depressed, act happy. Genuine joy will follow.” This one might leave you skeptical, but Reb Nachman believed that when we activate joy, it ignites a spark inside us, it opens up our aliveness and lets us see the world from a God’s eye view. As Rabbi Mark Novak put it, “Putting on a smile is not intended to cover over anything, but to make room for what is here – the divine presence – in each breathing, sacred moment. The smile, which leads us to joy, which leads us to wonder, calls upon the child within us to live with curiosity and creativity.”
- Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav understood, way before Freud, that sadness can lead to sickness. Nachman himself struggled deeply with depression. Aristotle called happiness "the chief good," the end towards which all other things aim. And in full agreement, Moses Chayim Luzzato, who in the 18th century wrote “The Path of the Just,” begins the first chapter saying, “The human is created to take pleasure.” For him, there was no greater pleasure than seeking closeness with God.
- Laugh your way through the tears. Henny Youngman put it in the form of a joke: says "I go to the doctor and the doctor says I have six months to live. I told him I can’t pay him. So he gave me six months more." That is the quintessential Jewish joke. We all have six months. We’re all up against literally a dead-line. But if we can laugh at it and stand up to it, it will give us a reprieve from the sadness – and that’s like bargaining for six months more. What else can we do in the face of death but laugh at it?
- Cultivate He-sed-ic Communities. Not Hasidic – but Hesed-ic. Communities filled with Hesed (lovingkindness). Rabbi Israel Salanter, the 19th century founder of the Mussar movement, saw a scholar with a forlorn look on his face during the days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. The scholar said he was worried because these are the days when God is judging us. To which Salanter replied, “But other people won’t realize that that’s what’s bothering you. They might think that you are upset with them. In order to be truly happy, we’ve truly got to care about the happiness of others.
Not long ago, PBS aired a film called “Happy,” tracking the phenomenon all over the world. The producer spoke about how he had heard that happy people tend to be healthier, get sick less often and live longer than unhappy people – and that for some reason, the oldest people in the world came from Okinawa in Japan.
He went there on a whim and found that it was a resounding YES, they were happy. The key is was how different generations come together on a regular basis. One day, he noticed a group of elderly women visiting a preschool as the kids were having a footrace. The grandmothers convened at finish line. They hugged all the kids as they finished. The producer went to congratulate a grandmother about having such a grandkid. She said, ‘That’s not my grandchild. None of these are my grandkids.’ She was asked, ‘Is this your friend’s?’ She said, ‘None of the women here are related to any of these children.’
- In a big square in Copenhagen, there is an enormous interactive wooden pixel screen called the Happy Wall. When I first saw it, I said to myself: Perfect: We’ve got the Wailing Wall and the Scandinavians have the Happy Wall. That’s just the way it is.
But as I drew closer to the Happy Wall, it drew me in. There are 2000 wooden boards of all different colors, and people are invited to write messages or create patterns, animals, words or statements grouping many of the boards.
I looked at some of the messages close up.
“Happy marriage for 30 years: Andrea and Gunnar.” “My family is my everything: Isabel.” “M.L: The answer is yes.”
Now I’ve never read the messages that people put into the Kotel, but the messages I saw on the Happy Wall were probably very similar – only happier. At the Happy Wall we might see, “I love my great aunt Sylvia’s potato blintzes more than life itself. I’ll love her forever.”
At the Kotel we might see, “My great aunt Sylvia was bitten by a mosquito in the back yard. Please keep her from dying of malaria.”
The messages at both walls are about caring about something beyond ourselves. And that’s what make us happy. It’s Hesed. It’s unconditional love, the kind of love that makes not only makes forgiveness possible – it makes it inevitable. It’s warm puppy happiness. I realized that, in the end, we’re just a bunch of boys and girls (and nonbinary folks too), standing in front of the world, asking it to love us.
Embracing our brokenness, focusing on the here and now, laughing through our tears, accepting our flaws, removing the masks, cultivating kindness, letting anger go, smiling even when we don’t feel it, coming together to celebrate and cry with community. That's what makes us happy.
I’m not talking about “Second Life,” the online virtual world followed by a million people.
I’m talking about something that was said by Steven Sotloff, the American Jew (and Israeli citizen too,) whose experience was all too real. Before he was so brutally murdered by ISIS, he was able to smuggle home a few correspondences when former cellmates were freed. He wrote this letter that was read by his aunt at his funeral, before a hushed congregation:
“Please know I’m OK.” He said. “Live your life to the fullest and fight to be happy. Everyone has two lives. The second one begins when you realize you only have one.”
If Steven Sotloff could fight to be happy where he was, we have no reason to give in to despair back here. He was the embodiment of that rabbinic dictum that we must repent on the last day of our lives. And since we don’t know when that will be, so must we repent each and every day.
When you realize that you have only one life, you will fight to be happy.
For those of us created in the divine image, i.e. all of us, we must do nothing less. We must fight to be happy by marshaling the forces of steadfast kindness to prevail inside of us. We must find a way to let go and forgive. We must find a way to hug someone else’s child. We must find a way to laugh through the tears.
So our American Golden Age might indeed be ending, but the real point Foer is making is that we need to look beyond the mirror for just one second and recognize that our struggle is part of a much larger battle. This fight is bigger than us. As he writes, "...if America persists on its current course, it would be the end of the Golden Age not just for the Jews, but for the country that nurtured them."
An America that is no longer a safe and suitable home for its Jews is an America that has succumbed to the worst instincts of the far right and the far left. We need to fight hard to save, not ourselves from America, but America from itself.
And there will be nothing more satisfying, more conducive to overall well-being, than fighting this good fight.
And that's how we can find happiness this Adar. |
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