If contemporary America were to pick a motto, it might well be “What have you done for me lately?” Each of us pursues individual happiness as we understand it. When the agenda of some outside organization intersects our own, we are willing to belong. But our belonging is usually pretty fragile—we belong on our own terms, for our own interests. If we’re unhappy with a rabbi’s sermon, we quit the synagogue, if we don’t have time to attend their meetings, we quit the organization. In both instances, we rarely pause to ask whether or not the group does worthy work that requires our support. If we aren’t getting gratification at that moment, we take our marbles and go home.
Look, for example, at how many Americans don’t vote because “they’re all a bunch of crooks.” No candidate can possibly match all of our ideals, but they do present very different visions of how our society should proceed. Rather than see the community’s need as commanding, Americans generally make their own interests primary. What used to be a sacred privilege is now an option, a chore. It’s easier just to stay home.
The big exception to this proclivity to quit is those affiliations that are not voluntary. We pay our taxes whether or not we want to. Even some Jewish customs take on a nearly obligatory stature—praying together on Yom Kippur or providing a Bar/Bat Mitzvah celebration for our children. So for those necessities we put up with rules and guidelines not tailored only to our personal tastes. Otherwise, it’s make me happy or say good-bye.
It wasn’t always that way. In today’s Torah portion, Jacob hears the joyous and unpredictable news that his son, Joseph, is still alive. He prepares to join him in Egypt, and stops on his way at the ancestral worship site, at Be’er Sheva. Once there, the Torah tells us, “he offered sacrifices to the God of his father Isaac.”
I’m struck by Jacob’s willingness to make sacrifices for his father’s God. Jacob doesn’t ask “what’s in it for me?” Instead, his guiding question is “what do I owe God? What does God expect of me?”
Judaism cannot survive unless Jews are willing to make sacrifices on its behalf. God can’t make a difference in this world unless we are willing to maintain our posts regardless of personal gain. Needy Jews (and non-Jews too) won’t be helped unless we provide the resources and energy necessary to assure the presence and health of Jewish institutions and charities.
Once upon a time, Jews understood that communal institutions deserved their support and affiliation—not for what each individual got out of them at that moment, but because those institutions allowed us to take care of each other and to serve God. Bikkur Holim committees visited the sick and assured that no ill Jew was neglected or abandoned. Hevra Kadishacommittees assured the proper and loving care for the remains of deceased Jews. Menachem Aveilim committees provided Shiva Minyanim and comforted mourners while assuring that they ate and maintained their health despite their sorrow. And, of course, minyanim assured that a sizable company of Jews was always on hand to pray, to study, and to provide community to all who needed it.
Once upon a time, Jews gave to charities—both Jewish and non-Jewish—at a far higher rate than their gentile neighbors.
Members of those organizations didn’t give of their time and their money because it felt good. They did so because that was what a mensch does. They, like Jacob, were prepared to make a sacrifice for the greater good of their fellow Jews, their fellow human beings, and their brit(covenant) with God.
Alas, it looks like those days are ending. If I don’t enjoy it, I quit. If I don’t need it, I stop supporting it.
We’re very good at part of Hillel’s wisdom, recorded in the Mishnah: “If I am not for myself, who will be?” We’re less attentive to his next line: “If I am only for myself, what am I?”
The problem with only staying involved when it serves our own interests is that we can no longer count on each other during our own moments of need. If we don’t support synagogues, federation, and charities for the sake of others, why should others stay involved for us?
In a world in which everybody looks out for number one, we never add up to much. One plus one plus one equals one. The loneliest number of all.
Perhaps making a sacrifice is a good investment after all.
Shabbat shalom.