The Conundrum

I have a friend, a brilliant intellectual, who does not suffer fools lightly. From time to time I invite him to Synagogue and he reminds me that he does not have much tolerance for those who make too much of ritual and pay little heed to its underlying philosophy.

Ritual without meaning saps our spirit. The soul cannot flourish in a straitjacket; it longs for enrichment and meaning. Mindless repetition of ancient traditions is a banal exercise that leaves the soul feeling numb. It is no wonder that such souls come of age with little love for ritual and opt instead for a more spiritual and philosophical approach to religion.

Many are the Jews that have dispensed with ritual and embraced an entirely philosophical approach. There is an allure to the pursuit of knowledge that lifts one beyond the prosaic concerns of here and now; the mystique nurtures the spirit and stirs the passion by endowing life with meaning. The problem is that this non ritual approach is also without staying power because passion without concrete expression is not lasting. This approach rarely survives past three generations; the grandchildren either dispense with religion completely or opt for a more ritualized form.

Ritual without passion fails to thrive, but passion without ritual fails to survive; what to do?

The Politics of Science

I think we can take a lesson from the politics of science. If there were one area that one would hope is without politics it is science. Sadly, this bastion also suffers from the ailment of politics; it is the politics of money.

The scientific community is generally divided into two groups; academia and industry. The academic is driven by the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake; it strives to preserve the purity of science. Scientists employed by pharmaceutical and other industry view science through the prism of its application. They seek to apply knowledge in the way that most benefits society. It is no secret that industry’s motive is financial, but it can hardly profit without bettering the lot of society.

The tension between the two communities lies in its agenda. The academic charges that the private scientist has sold his integrity to the almighty dollar by trying to turn a profit. His interests lie only in subjects with financial prospect; he no longer pursues knowledge for its own sake. The pharmaceutical scientist points out that knowledge without concretized application is of no merit; no public or private agency would award a grant to fund scientific study that is without utilitarian value. The purity of scientific inquiry is laudable in the ivory tower, but in the real world such passion must be given concrete application to survive.

Both points are valid. Academic scientists are only funded when their findings can improve our lot and industry scientists can only be certain of their findings when they are corroborated by those who broaden the search and preserve its integrity by seeking knowledge for its own sake.

Just like our earlier conundrum about ritual and passion; Industry without academia would fail to thrive, but academia without industry would fail to survive. The system requires a combined effort to move forward with success.

We now return to ritual and passion. Ritual and passion are like short blankets, one covering the head, the other, the feet. Opting for either leaves the other end exposed. But we need not select one over the other; we could opt for both. We can enrich the observance of ritual by suffusing it with its underpinning philosophy and we can give concrete application to our philosophy through observing the rituals that express it. This way both sides are covered; the ritual secures our observance so that Judaism can survive, the philosophy nurtures our soul so that Judaism can thrive.

Children raised in this environment learn to love the ritual as much as its philosophy. It touches their soul, inspires their emotions and unleashes their inner core. These children can embrace Judaism to its fullest and are perfectly positioned to achieve continuity. (1)

Build Me A Sanctuary

The last two portions of the book of Exodus discuss the building of the tabernacle. First the Torah describes the building of the tabernacle’s outer shell; its roof and walls. Then the Torah describes the fashioning of the ark, show-table, candelabra and altars. Then the Torah describes the sewing of the priestly vestments. Then the actual assembly of the tabernacle, then the order in which the vessels were brought into the tabernacle and finally the Torah describes the priests as they donned their vestments.

At no point in the narrative does the Torah pause to inform us that these items were sacred or endowed with a Divine aura. It is only after the tabernacle was assembled, the vessels put in place and the vestments worn by the priests in the service of G-d that the Torah informs us of the Divine glory that filled the tabernacle. This is because vessels without vestments just as vestments without vessels can not be used in the service of G-d. To serve G-d we must fulfill every aspect of the commandment and only then are we true servants.

Rituals garb our religious sentiment in practices that express inner beauty just like the priestly vestments gave expression to the nobility of the priesthood; the vestments thus serve as a metaphor for the ritual. The vessels serve as metaphors for the philosophy; the ornate vessels gave meaning and depth to the tabernacle just like our quest for meaning and understanding enriches our otherwise empty ritual.

Ritual and philosophy are wings and just like a bird cannot fly with a single wing so can neither ritual nor philosophy carry us aloft and bind us to G-d. But taken together, the ritual underscored by its philosophy and the philosophy expressed through ritual, the two bind the Jew to G-d.

When the vestments met the vessels in the service of G-d, then “A cloud covered the tent of meeting and the glory of G-d filled the tabernacle.” (2) It is only through the convergence of vestments and vessels, outer ritual and inner meaning that we truly reach beyond ourselves and connect with G-d. This brings out the innate grandeur of our soul, the towering spirit of our core and the existential bond that we share with G-d. This form of religion is enduring; it not only survives, it also thrives. (3)

Footnotes

1. There is no magic pill that ensures continuity; it all depends on the child’s nature, the family’s dynamics and the circumstances of life. This approach to Judaism, however, adopts the strong points of ritual and passion giving parents a chance to put their best foot forward. In the end success is in G-d’s hands. We can only do our best and then we can pray.
2. Exodus 40:34
3. This essay is based on a talk given by, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, the Lubavitcher Rebbe OBM,  on March 11, 1961.

Money Corrupts, but does it also inspire?   more »

Greed and Generosity

In Fiddler On The Roof, a film filled with memorable moments, the scene of Perchick’s proclamation, “Money is the world’s curse” and Tevye’s defiant reply, “May the Lord smite me with it,” stands out as prominent. Indeed, money is the source of humanity’s greatest friction. Most marital disputes revolve around money. Most disagreements brought before the world’s courts are about financial matters.

Yet money is also a source of inspiration. Warren Buffet’s 2006 announcement of his eighty-five Billion dollar contribution to the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation stands out as one of the noblest moments of the last decade. I don’t know of a single act that inspired more philanthropy and generosity world wide. Philanthropy begets philanthropy. Pledges of matching grants to charitable institutions rarely fail to inspire generosity on the part of others. Indeed, money can serve to ennoble and inspire.

Money is neither a curse nor a blessing. It is our attitude that determines the outcome. When we view money as an agent that provides our needs, comforts and luxuries, it inspires greed. There is only so much money in the world’s pie and we each crave the largest possible slice. When others take an inordinately large slice, our own greed is triggered and we want more. But when others use money to spread happiness, blessing and goodwill our entire perspective changes; their example inspires us to overcome our greed and to join them in their beneficence.

Collective Inspiration

I was once at a Fund Raiser for a charitable institution when a prominent donor led a group of nine contributors to the podium and announced their collective pledge of roughly three million dollars. How did he accomplish this? He simply walked around the tables and told each donor how much the others had pledged. No one wanted to be left out or outdone; they all joined hands in the magnificent, but spontaneous pledge.

I recall the uplifting inspiration of that moment.  Overcome by the profundity of the gift; we greeted the announcement with enthusiasm and the donors with a standing ovation. Amidst the cheer and jubilation we each came to terms with our own reservations and our fears about giving. In our common celebration we overcame our inhibitions and became better acquainted with our charitable selves.

Inspiring moments are most effective when they are experienced with others; the larger the gathering the more profound the inspiration. Learning about a generous pledge in the privacy or our homes might inspire us to give, but this inspiration must contend with our many other interests such as concern for our financial security, desire to provide comfortably for our families, passion for luxurious living and of course greed.

When charity is celebrated in large gatherings the spirit of collective celebration brings about a clarity that overrules our narrow, parochial needs. The collective realization about the power and true import of philanthropy forces our selfish needs into the background and allows our spirit of philanthropy to flourish. At that moment the entire gathering is united in a single overarching theme that brings our own conflicting interests into sharp focus. It is a moment of truth; compelling and inescapable.

Moses Gathered

This is why Moses called for the entire nation to congregate before the tabernacle was built. Having experienced an incredible moment at Sinai, where the nation melded into a single entity with total unity of purpose, Moses wanted to replicate this singularity in the tabernacle. Moses knew that the single most potent barrier to unity is money and therefore addressed this barrier before all others.
 
Before announcing the fund raising campaign to build the tabernacle Moses shared a law, “Thou shall not kindle a fire in all your dwellings on the day of Shabbat.” (1) Though this law is somewhat irrelevant to the construction of the tabernacle, it is most relevant to the unity of purpose that must precede it.

Fire is a metaphor for passion. Our passion on Shabbat must not be kindled by or invested in prosaic matters such as the beauty or security of our dwelling places. From Shabbat this ethic must spill over into the rest of the week. Money should not be viewed as an agent that provides the needs, comforts and luxuries of our dwelling places. Rather it is meant to be a vehicle through which holiness and goodwill are delivered. Our sages taught that gold was created to be used in the Tabernacle. Though we are entitled to keep the extra gold for ourselves, its primary purpose is not for pouring into our dwelling places, but to be used in the service of the Divine cause.

Fire carries an additional connotation. It serves as a metaphor for anger and divisiveness. When we recognize that money is a vehicle that serves the Divine cause in spreading holiness and goodwill, it ceases to be a source of friction between people and families. We stop fighting over the size of our respective slices of the pie and the fires of anger and divisiveness are not kindled in our dwelling places.

When our ancestors embraced this truth and were inspired to the heights of unity and collective generosity Moses initiated the construction of the tabernacle. The fund raising campaign was so successful that in the end donors were begged to stop contributing! Once they were taught the true import of money they stopped trying to hoard it and worked with their neighbors to distribute it.

Doing Our Part

We too can gather people and inspire them to the heights of unity and generosity. This is especially true in this year, 5769, a year intended for Jewish gatherings. Every seven years, during  the year that followed the Shemitah (Sabbatical year), the entire nation gathered in the Temple where the King would read for them from the Torah. The purpose of these gatherings was to inspire the nation to reverence and awe of G-d. Last year was a Shemitah year. This year is thus designated (and therefore spiritually conducive to the success of) inspirational gatherings.

But we don’t need to wait till a gathering is called to inspire the world through our own example. Every time we give a donation to the poor or offer assistance to the needy, especially during these trying times, we inspire others to do the same. Let us not wait for others to inspire us. Rather  let us endeavor to become that source of inspiration for others. (2)

Footnotes

1. Exodus 35: 3.
2. This essay is based on an address by the Lubavitcher Rebbe, delivered on 27 Adar, 5749.

Seven Thoughts for Seven Days   more »

She was there at the very beginning and she is there for us still now. She was there at times of elation and was there in times of distress. She was there in times of hope and is still there in times of despair. She nurtured our faith under the Inquisition and our strength during the Pogroms. She held our hands in the gas chambers and holds our hands still. She, is our Yidishe Mama – Jewish Mother.   more »