Finding Joy in Judaism
Rosh Hashanah II - 5760
By James Michaels
The scene: A Soviet Jewry rally 30 years ago. The stirring speaker roused the audience to a frenzy, asked them to rise, and then motioned to the nearby orchestra. The music started with the familiar strains of Hatikvah. People cried. They cried for all the Jews in the Soviet Union who could not emigrate. They cried for the memories of the Holocaust, when the Jews of Eastern Europe had no friends in the outside world to agitate for their freedom. And they cried for the centuries of persecution, of which this seemed to be only the latest.
A truly poignant scene, one with which we can all identify. The minor-key strains of Israel's national anthem seem to underscore the scope of Jewish history and existence. For many Jews, sadness and poignancy seem to resonate in their souls. It's how they define Judaism; it's the part of our heritage that forms their entire perspective on being Jewish.
And yet, there is something else to Judaism, something we don't always envision when we think about our heritage. That element is joy-the elation that we can also feel when we partake in our heritage.
Consider this: Synagogues everywhere are packed on the High Holidays, days of a somber mood and self-denial. And yet, five days after Yom Kippur, we begin the festival of Sukkot. It's called the season of our joy-and yet it's very difficult to attract people to services. It's hard to figure out why is this the case, but I'd like to share with you an idea.
How do we greet each other on December 31 or January 1? Happy New Year. A birthday? Happy birthday. The English word "happy" seems to attach itself to passing moments, to be celebrated in a burst of excitement, and then consigned to the past.
The Hebrew word for joy seems to convey a different idea. It seems that we must expend effort to attain to reach that status. In its description of the festivals, the Torah goes into great detail about the activities we must do to celebrate each festive day. Then we read: you will be joyful on your holidays. In other words, all the work of the holidays is worthwhile because of the lasting feeling of joy that we will feel. This is borne out in the book of Psalms, where we read: serve the Lord with joy.
On Rosh Hashana, I would like to explore with you ways in which you can find joy in Judaism. I won't promise you that it will be a quick fix, but I can promise you that if you explore one or more of these joy-producing activities, you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams.
1. Go the distance. If any of you have participated in endurance sports-marathons, trialthons, you know how you enjoy the great feeling that comes with going the distance. When you cross the finish line, you may be hurting, but you also feel an elation which remains for a long time.
The greatest enjoyment in Judaism comes to those who go the distance. For example, take Yom Kippur. Many of you attend services in the morning and spend a good part of the day in shul. But when you go home, you don't plan to return. Those who return for Neila, who make it through the entire fast in the company of others, will have a special feeling. Not just one of accomplishment, but one of joy. You'll have gone the distance.
There is a new program, sponsored by United Synagogue, which presents a similar challenge-Perek Yomi--a project of daily study of the Bible. One chapter per day. It requires a commitment of time, to be sure, but really only about 15 minutes a day. But if you make this commitment, if you go the distance, you will feel a double portion of joy: first, for committing yourself to go the distance in the company of others all over the world; second, for expanding your knowledge of the Tanach, the Hebrew Bible. And you'll know the joy that comes from going the distance.
2. Have fun by getting involved. Making a difference in peoples' lives can be the most fun of all activities. Working with others in worthwhile, charitable activities can produce a true feeling of joy. So another way of finding joy in Judaism, therefore, is to get involved. At your synagogue, it's usually easy to do, since there are so many worthwhile projects that deserve your attention: Men's Club, Sisterhood, Adult Ed, and Family Activities planning. They're active, they're doing things; if you aren't involved, get involved, and you'll understand what joy it can bring.
Or, if you're so inclined, start doing something new yourself. In Wilkes-Barre, PA, there are three sisters who fix bicycles that have been discarded, and then they give them to poor children. They started by fixing one boy's bike; then someone else brought them another bike to fix. Eventually, they had hundreds of bikes to fix. Imagine how much joy those sisters feel, knowing how they've made a difference!
3. Experience the joy of watching children experience their Judaism. Most of us enjoy seeing our own children going through these experiences. But it doesn't have to end when they grow up and move out of the house.
In the synagogue, seasons of joy are usually relegated to children. But it doesn't have to be that way. Think of the message you'll be sending to our children if you come to shul on the times when they're at shul: Sukkot, Simchat Torah, and Purim. You'll be saying that Judaism is not just kid's stuff. By finding the joy that is inherent in these holidays, you'll be telling them they're welcome to be with the grown-ups. This is a very powerful affirmation and motivation.
Let me issue you a challenge by way of an invitation. In two weeks from Rosh Hashana, we observe Sukkot; a week later, we observe Simchat Torah. Make a point of being in your shul. Join with your community's children in observing these festivals. You'll know the true meaning of joy in Judaism.
Conclusion: If I were asked to summarize this sermon in three words, I'd say, "Jews, lighten up." And that's essentially what we need to do. There are plenty of somber and sad moments in Judaism; we'll continue to observe them in their proper time and seasons. But if we also seek out the joy that can be found in our Jewish heritage, I believe we'll make an even longer-lasting contribution to our tradition. Perhaps that is what the psalmist meant when he wrote:
You have turned my lament into dancing; You have exchanged my sackcloth for garments of joy.
That I may sing hymns of endless praise to You; O Lord, my God, I will praise you forever.
AMEN.
Rabbi James R. Michaels was ordained in 1974. He has served congregations in Minnesota, New York City, Northeast Pennsylvania, and currently is spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Israel in Flint, MI. Throughout his career, he has been involved in social action projects and inter-religious activities. He also has extensive experience in mental health chaplaincy, and is currently studying to obtain a D. Minn. degree from Graduate Theological Institute. He is married to Karen Markowitz; they have five grown children.
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