Ahz mah (So what)

Yom Kippur 5773/2012 Dear God, I am writing to You on behalf of my congregation. Although we have differences of opinion about You, and some of us are uncertain about what “believing in You” means, we still feel the impulse to communicate with You occasionally. To address the awesome mystery of existence as “You.” We can’t seem to help it sometimes. Anyway, I am writing this letter to You on behalf of my congregation on the subject of love and loss. There has been much personal loss in this little congregation, and it is on our minds. I promise, God, not to ask “Why?” or at least not to ask it too often. I know that asking “why” questions puts a person on the defensive. Of course You are not a person, but still I know that asking why You, God, do this or that is not a fruitful line of inquiry, because there is never a satisfactory answer. Ribono shel Olam / Master of the universe: Everything we love, we will eventually lose. Everything, and everyone. This is the truth of bein

 Rosh Hashanah 5773/2012 A story: Some years ago there was a car crash in front of the Baptist church in the town where my family used to live. The driver, taking her eyes off the road to turn and yell at her children in the back seat, swerved and hit an on-coming vehicle. The children were injured, the older girl critically. The Baptist church undertook a ‘round-the-clock prayer vigil. When at last the girl was released from the hospital, a member of the church wrote a letter to the local newspaper congratulating the church for the power of its prayers, taking credit for the girl’s survival. Another story: I met a woman who was visiting her critically ill friend in the hospital. She was distraught because the medical staff would not discuss her friend’s condition with her and tell her which organs and systems of the body were malfunctioning. She said to me: “How can I pray if I don’t know specifically what I’m praying for? I need to know what I’m praying for.” Two years ago on

On my vacation this summer, I encountered the following slogan on a hand-painted sign in a bed & breakfast: “Dream big, plan well, work hard, smile always, and good things will happen.” Sounds nice, you think? I had a different reaction: No, life doesn’t happen that way! Life happens. As much as we dream, plan, work, and smile (and pray), life happens the way life happens. And good things don’t always happen. This type of kitschy slogan is an expression of an insidious theme in American culture going way back. The 19th century psychologist William James referred to it as “the religion of healthy-mindedness,” in which people endeavor by sheer force of will to experience only the good and not the bad in life. It’s the converse that is most problematic: When something bad happens, it is implied that you did not dream, plan, work, or smile (or pray) sufficiently. Dream big? Sure. We Jews are the masters of grandiosity. Plan well? Good idea, up to a point. Work hard? A bit Puritani