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Home Presentation for Yom Kippur Symposium 5769, October 9, 2008
When Rabbi Block asked me to speak today about the impact of Judaism on my life, I was flattered and honored. Then, after thinking about it for a while, I considered asking him if I could talk about the economy instead. I don't really understand it all that well, but I thought it would be an easier topic to cover in the allotted time. But here I am anyway, faced with the challenge of summing up in 10 minutes something that I have spent half a lifetime thinking about.
I want to talk to you today about choice. A relevant topic, no doubt, in light of the upcoming election. But choice is truly what defines Judaism for me - and, I believe, for all of us.
Recently, in a discussion about one of my children, I said that I hoped that my kids would choose to be Jewish when they were adults. This confused a few people who know that I am a Jew by choice. They interpreted this statement as meaning that Sergio and I were raising the children in an interfaith home. Rest assured - we're not. At all. But that doesn't mean that my children, and all of our children, won't have to make the same choice as adults as I did. For the fact is that we live in a world where we are in the minority. A largely non-Jewish world. And the pressures out there are not in our favor. I would wager that many of us - perhaps most of us - have been in uncomfortable situations where it would have been easiest to hide our Jewishness. I certainly have.
But I'm sure we all know the old expression - “you get what you pay for”. A faith without thought, effort and in some cases, sacrifice and discomfort, is not a meaningful faith. Not a faith that enriches our lives. And the fact that we all choose Judaism against the odds makes it worth something to us. For make no mistake - every one of us is a Jew by choice - every day of our lives.
Let me talk a little more about what it means to choose Judaism - and specifically, what that means to me.
I had a conversation with a friend the other day, and this person happens to be someone who is very successful - who has really made his mark. He told me that when he was a kid, his rabbi said something to him that changed his life. What were those words? That if you have the means and the ability and the opportunity to make a difference in the world, and you choose not to, that there is nothing worse that you could possibly do. In fact, he used the words “the worst possible sin”.
This really resonated with me. You see, I was raised by my parents with a clear understanding of my responsibility to others. It was standard operating procedure that we gave back to our community. We gave because we had good fortune and others didn't. We gave because we could - because we had to - because it was the right thing to do. Very Jewish, actually, even though our home was not Jewish, and wasn't even very religious.
As Jews, we are held to the highest standard. We have the responsibility to make the right choices. How can you receive the gifts that G-d has given you and ignore the needs of others? How can I go to Israel and meet an elderly Jewish woman who comes to a soup kitchen every day to get a hot meal in the one and only container that she owns - a partially opened tomato can - and not feel like I need to do more? We have a choice to ignore or intervene. We have a choice to neglect or to nurture. We have a choice to hinder or to help; a choice between coldness and caring. And when we choose to do the right thing, those choices bring us closer to G-d. That is choosing to be Jewish.
In fact, the idea of tikkun olam - healing the world - is the tenet of Judaism that resonates most strongly with me. And the feeling that I get when I help others - that power, that peace, that resonance, that certainty - that, for me, is G-d.
But it's more than just making choices to make the world a better place. It's about making choices to become a better person. That's really what these last ten days have been about for all of us. Deep personal reflection. Sometimes a very difficult undertaking - painful, embarrassing even. That call for betterment of the self is one of the most amazing things about Judaism to me. The idea that one comes closer to G-d not through blind faith, not even necessarily through belief itself, but through study, personal action and constant self-examination.
In non-profit work, everyone has a mission statement. There are many philosophies of “the ideal mission statement” out there. People argue about it - write articles about it. But my favorite is this - that the purpose of a mission statement is to act as a measuring stick for everything you do. In other words, if you are faced with a dilemma, you hold it up to your mission statement and say, “Does this action really fulfill our mission? Are we on target here, or drifting off course?”
So, Rabbi Block, the answer to the question “What is the impact of Judaism on my life?” is this - that Judaism is my mission statement. It's the thing against which I measure all of my actions - the thing that inspires me to try, every day, to be the best person I can be (and some days, believe me - I need a little more inspiration than others). Being Jewish is the reason that I feel compelled to be a philanthropist - because I believe so deeply in the principles of tzedakah and tikkun olam.
One of my favorite stories is a Chasidic fable about Rabbi Zusya, a teacher who says to his students: “When I get to the Heavenly Court they will not fault me for not being Moses. They will not ask me 'Why weren't you Moses?' but they will ask me, 'Why weren't you Zusya?'”
So, as I forge ahead with my daily and imperfect quest to be the best Alice I can be, I wish you all an easy fast, I thank you for listening today, and most importantly, I apologize to those of you whom I have offended, either purposefully or inadvertently, and I am grateful for your patience with me as I continue to try to make Jewish choices.
I'd like to close today with a quote by my favorite Jewish atheist, Albert Einstein. I keep this quote taped up above my dresser in the hopes that every day it will remind me of why I'm here.
“Strange is our situation here upon earth. Each of us comes for a short visit, not knowing why, yet sometimes seeming to divine a purpose. From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: That we are here for the sake of others...for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day, I realize how much my outer and inner life is built upon the labors of people, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received.”
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