A Frenchman, a German, and a Jew walked into a bar. The Frenchman says, “I'm tired and thirsty,” he says. “I must have some wine.” The German says, “I'm tired and thirsty. I want some beer.” The Jew says, “I'm tired and thirsty. Oy! I must have diabetes.”

Jewish humor, indeed all humor, is often based on a sad tale. We laugh at the story, because otherwise, we would cry. Humor reflects life, which is too often unpleasant.

Yet, despite the trials and tribulations of our world, we still seek happiness. And, as Jews, we are commanded to pursue happiness. Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch wrote: “Judaism never considered pain, sorrow, self affliction or sadness to be valid goals. The opposite is true-one should pursue happiness, blessings, cheer, joy, and delight.” Joy is not just an important pursuit -it is something that, according to our tradition, we must not live without. In fact, the rabbis considered it a sin not to be joyful. In exploring the reason why God punishes our biblical ancestors, the 19th century Hasidic master Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Pshischa wrote: "…the Torah does not specify the sins for which the Jewish people will be punished. The only one that it mentions specifically is "because you did not serve the Eternal your God joyfully [with happiness] " (Itturei Torah).

This Rosh Hashanah we acknowledge that we have not sought happiness in our lives, or served God joyfully. We have failed to notice that happiness is within our reach. This Rosh Hashanah then, we gather together to welcome the New Year; and to dedicate ourselves to seeking and cultivating joy - we commit ourselves to bringing happiness in our lives.

To do this, we must first realize that the pursuit of happiness isn't about eliminating the challenges of life. Happiness isn't about being free of tribulation. Happiness, in fact, comes from the root “hap”-meaning chance, occurrence, a happening. The implication is that the very same experiences that bring us joy could alternatively make us miserable. Rabbi Herbert Bronstein has said: “Everything that happens to us in life is a kind of question to which only we can give the answer. Sometimes the questions life puts to us are very, very hard, and over them we have very little control. But over the way we respond to those questions of life, we have a great deal more control. . . ”

As Rabbi Bronstein taught, we achieve happiness by our own response to events. Take Molly, for example. At age 24, Molly's daughter died of a congenital heart condition. Two years later, Molly's husband also died after a painful illness. She was bereft, without her daughter or her husband. Adding insult to injury, she also faced overwhelming medical bills at the same time she lost all source of income.

And yet, just over a year after her husband's death, and three years after her daughter's tragic end, Molly had a job. She had friends. What was her secret? Molly stated: “I started practicing at living. I practiced going out with friends. I practiced talking to co-workers and making small talk, even if it wasn't exactly what I wanted to be doing. And through that practice, I learned again what made me happy, and how to achieve it.”

And then there is Julie. We all know a Julie: we think she has everything. A great marriage, a husband who loves her, a successful career; good, smart children. But Julie sees her life as difficult. She wonders: “Are my kids the best they can be? Are they as good as the other kids in their classes?” At work, she questions herself: “Am I showing my success? Should I do more? Drive a different car? Do I wear the right things?” She isn't able to see that her successes are really successes, and her life really full of bounty. Yes, we all know a Julie: someone who worries about everything, and does not enjoy a thing.

From a distance, we'd expect that Julie would be the happy one; and that Molly deserved, really, to be unhappy. And yet the reverse is true!

It's all in the way they handled the challenges they perceived in their lives. Dannel Schwartz, in his book Finding Joy: A Practical Spiritual Guide to Happiness, teaches, “. . . a happy person is not someone who has the right set of circumstances. Instead, the happy person is someone who has the right attitude about any circumstance and is able to communicate that attitude to his or her soul, and then do something either to heighten a positive experience or lessen a negative one. In other words, a happy person can bounce back from failure or defeat, not only by looking at the bright side, but also by learning from the dark side.”

So, do I send you back to your homes this Rosh Hashanah morning with the credo: look on the bright side? Admittedly, that's too simplistic.

Perhaps there is just a little bit more I can share with you before I send you home, a trick or two up Judaism's sleeve to help us on our path to happiness in our lives, to help us avoid, as Julie was unable to do, the pitfalls of unhappiness.

Molly did something very important on her journey to happiness: she practiced. She created, as it were, a spiritual workout with the goal of happiness. Molly wasn't the only one to come up with such a concept. Our rabbis have a happiness workout too. They challenged themselves to pronounce 100 blessings every day. The blessings were offered for a multitude of reasons: when enjoying food or drink, or over some pleasing or remarkable sight.

Reciting 100 blessings a day is a serious workout. These rabbis were the Olympic athletes of spirituality. If we don't take the time to notice what goes on around us, our ability to see and experience happiness, it will, like a muscle, atrophy. We'll become more like Julie, and less like Molly.

All real exercise is tough- especially when beginning a new “routine”. As they say, “no pain, no gain.” It will rarely be easy to find 100 things, or experiences, to bless. What happens, then, if we don't find 100 blessings? Are we failures in this basic pursuit of happiness?

Perhaps just the process of looking, of awareness, will help us realize how much there is to be happy about. Rabbi Harold Schulweis coined the term “oy Jews” and “joy Jews.” He believed that we are too often stuck in the “oy.” It's an apt term. Our culture breeds anxiety in such a way that being stuck in the oy seems to be natural, even expected. I know I'm guilty of it: I wake up anxious for all I have to accomplish in a day. I worry about Isaac, worry about each of you; I get frustrated with traffic. And there it is: I'm all about the “oy.”

Instead of waking up and whining about how tired I am, I could offer a blessing for the coffee that I enjoy so much: Baruch Atah Adonai: Blessed are You God, for this coffee, with its wonderful flavor and energizing aroma! Or a blessing that Isaac ate all of his breakfast and most of went into his mouth, and not on me, the dogs, and the floor. Baruch Atah Adonai: Blessed Are You God, that Isaac ate his oatmeal and applesauce, and that I don't have to mop the floor. Or a blessing for the smiling child at the JCC who opens the door, even if I am five minutes late to drop off Isaac. Baruch Atah Adonai: Blessed are You God, for making me five minutes late so that this child can help me with the stroller this morning.

Perhaps, by trying to find 100 blessings a day, instead of kvetching, we'll kvell. We'll find happiness in more moments of our day.

This process is truly a spiritual workout. It's “so difficult,” Dannel Schwartz says, “that we spend most of our time looking. In the course of looking, we find many things worth noting that we might have otherwise passed us by. That's the goal. The practiced eye sees more than the lazy one. As a result, the more we look for happiness, the more we can see it. Happiness then becomes not a final state to be achieved, but a process, a way of life and of living it in a spiritual way.”

Part of our pursuit for happiness has to come from within. Reminding ourselves of the 100 blessings, or the challenge of attempting to say 100 blessings a day, can help us to become more practiced, more willing, to find happiness. We will become more like Molly, and less like Julie.

Saying 100 blessings, however, is just one aid in our pursuit for happiness. These blessings offer us a spiritual tool to direct our own inner process, and help us approach the world, as Molly did, with more happiness.

But if we remain only focused on ourselves, we become egocentric. In this era of growing individualism and disconnection, the search for happiness is ever more desperate, because we are lacking what we need the most: connection. Others.

What makes us most happy? Our love for the people in our lives, and the love we receive in return. A spouse. A child. A best friend. A dog. A community.

On any given Friday night, we hold two Shabbat services at 6:30 P.M. The serene, quiet space in the Wulfe Sanctuary brings many a meditative worship experience, while the spirited atmosphere of the Barshop Auditorium invites voices to call out in song. Through the work of creating a regular ritual practice of Shabbat, we acknowledge both God and our community. The effort of driving to Temple, of committing to regular worship brings its own satisfaction. Combined with the ability to wish Shabbat Shalom to hundreds of people, regular ritual becomes an important route to happiness. Importantly, it also links us with love to the thousands of ancestors, over thousands of years, who continue to support and encourage us as we uphold our tradition. For many, the joy of worship together is also enhanced by the greetings, and hugs and kisses, reunions with friends. Each holiday- each New Year is made more meaningful because we come together to acknowledge both the fragility and holiness of life, to celebrate our accomplishments, and give praise to God.

Outside of time spent in prayer and celebration of Jewish ritual, we must also remember one of our primary duties: we are created “b'tzelem elohim” made in the image of God. We bring out the Godliness within through our performance of gemilut Hasidim, acts of lovingkindess. A recent TIME magazine cover proclaims “The Case for National Service.” The magazine cites an interesting statistic: volunteerism is at a high not seen since the 1970's. Last year, more than 61 million Americans dedicated 8.1 billion hours to volunteerism. The nations' volunteer rate is at 27.6 %. Clearly, we do have faith in our own personal service to make a difference. To touch lives. Doesn't touching others, helping others to live a better life, bring us happiness?

TIME magazine seems surprised at the growing numbers of volunteers. We, as Jews, should not be so surprised. We know that the betterment of our community is holy work. We know that doing for others connects us to God and to each other.

The Talmud teaches: “the Shekinah, God's spirit, rests on humankind . . . when [we are] filled with joy and enthusiasm over the performance of a good deed.” Let me teach you a phrase to describe our feeling when we have accomplished something good: Simcha Shel Mitzvah: the happiness we receive from doing a good deed. We seek neither credit nor accolades-- only the blessing of knowing that we have served God and humanity.

The great biblical commentator, Rashi, suggested that the Divine Presence does not reside with a person unless that person is joyous in fulfilling God's will. When we fill a hungry belly or clothe a naked child, we are happy, because we have fulfilled one of God's mandates and the Divine presence rests with us.

The journey to happiness begins through our own outlook on the situations we've been given through chance. It is also the way we interact with the world- by observance of ritual, and by service to others. Ivdu et Adonai B'simcha, Bo-u l'fanav birnana: Serve God with happiness, Come before God with joy. This phrase comes from Psalm 100, which often opens the service for Rosh Hashanah morning.

Those words are written right here, on my tallit. Many of you have remarked on the beauty of my tallit. It is beautiful, with its undulating blues and purples rippling down the tallit, like flowing water, and the silver script verse from Psalm 100 flowing over the colored quilted pieces of fabric, like clouds above the water: Ivdu Et Adonai B'simcha, Bo-u L'fanav birnanah.

I love it.

But I love it for more than its beauty.

I cherish it because it reminds me that our path to happiness is through service. When we serve (ivdu) God through pursuing happiness-in our own personal life and providing for others-we can come (bo-u) before God in exultation, true happiness. We come before God, as Molly did, having found her inner joy. We come before God, as do 6.2 million people do, knowing we've connected, made a difference. We come before God, with clapping and joy, finding fulfillment in religious observance.

We know, through inner blessing and outward service, that we've fulfilled the mandate that God has given us: to pursue happiness. We feel closer to God by looking for joy in the world, by being partners with the Divine, and by finding satisfaction in the rituals of our tradition.

Instead of reacting to the circumstances, may we turn life's lemons into lemonade. When we come together to celebrate holidays, let us be energized by the people around us and by our commitment to Jewish ritual. When we join in song and prayer during the remainder of this service, let us be moved by the chorus of hundreds of voices. When we serve others-when we clothe schoolchildren; touch hands with a lonely friend, offer food to the hungry, let us know that we have connected with God by making the world a better place.

Through ourselves, through others, and through God. Ivdu et Adonai B'simch, Bou L'fanav Birnanah: Let us serve God with happiness, so that we can come before God in joy.

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