L’Chaim To Life! (Erev Rosh Hashanah 5774)
To Life! sung by the cast of Fiddler on the Roof
(performed before sermon begins by both rabbis)
Here’s to our prosperity.
Our good health and happiness.
And most important…
To life. To life. L’chaim.
L’chaim, L’chaim, to life.
Here’s to the father I’ve tried to be
Here’s to my bride to be
Drink L’chaim, to life, to life, L’chaim
L’chaim, L’chaim, to life.
Life has a way of confusing us
Blessing and Bruising us,
Drink L’chaim, to life!
God would like us to be joyful
Even when our hearts lie panting on the floor.
How much more can we joyful
When there’s really something to be joyful for?
To life, to life, L’chaim.
“To Tzeitel, my daughter.”
“My wife!”
It gives us something to think about
Something to drink about
Drink L’chaim, to life!
May all your futures be pleasant ones
Not like our present ones
Drink L’chaim to life.
L’chaim, L’chaim, to life!
It takes a wedding to make us say
Let’s live another day
Drink, L’chaim, to life.
We’ll raise a glass and sip a drop of schnapps
in honor of the great good luck that favored you
We know that when good fortune favors two such men,
It stands to reason we deserve it, too.
To us and our good fortune.
Be happy, Be healthy, Long life.
And if our good fortune never comes
Here’s to whatever comes
Drink L’chaim, to life!
L’chaim. It is the quintessential Jewish greeting, Jewish toast, Jewish hope, Jewish saying. “To life, L’chaim!” is the Jewish reason for this High Holy Day season.
In Hebrew, L’chaim means “to life” and also, “for life.” We raise our cup of life, putting forth our greatest wish on this Erev Rosh Hashanah, as the Book of Life is opened: Inscribe me, God, and those I love, L’chaim –for life!
Any living person knows that life is not simple or easy, and rarely goes as planned, as much as we would want it to. L’chaim teaches us that the past is behind us — the good and the bad. L’chaim is a directional phrase pointing to the future. We are always praying for ourselves and our loved ones that the future will be ours – to live, L’chaim, in health, love, prosperity and peace. In the same breath, we know full well that we may not be able to control things that happen to us – the diagnosis or loss, the accident or crisis, the betrayal or abandonment, the hurt or tragedy, the detour or disappointment. They come, often without warning, turning our lives upside down.
Our adult education program was renamed LIFE last year, composed of the first letters from the four-word phrase: Learning Is For Everyone. Our committee wanted a title to reflect an effort to encourage everyone in our community to take advantage of the phenomenal opportunities we offer to learn about the richness of our heritage and its ability to enrich our lives and worldview. This year’s LIFE theme is “L’chaim!” So, I decided months ago to spend the entire High Holy days offering a trilogy of sermons on Life, as all of 5774 we will be sharing study on this marvelous theme. For after all, life is all about learning, learning from life’s experiences. Judaism offers us millennia of wisdom, both ancient and recent.
In preparation and looking for some good vacation reading, I reread Rabbi Harold Kushner’s 2006 book, Overcoming Life’s Disappointments, this summer. He is a Conservative rabbi who wrote the best seller, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, after his son died of progeria, that horrible illness where a child ages quickly before a parent’s eyes.
While rereading Overcoming Life’s Disappointments, I realized for the first time, in a real way, that more than half of my life is behind me, which is a sobering thought. And yet, as I have become a grandmother, and see my husband retire and love it, life also seems filled with new possibilities and experiences. Do I mourn the fact that the majority of my life is over, or do I celebrate the new experiences to come, as the rest of life is still before me?
And I ask myself as I stand before God tonight, waiting for my page in the Book of Life to receive scrutiny, is my fate already written because of my past, or do I still control what is left of my future?
Rabbi Kushner has an interesting take on the Book of Life (p. 121) that helped me answer these questions. In talking about the controversial Unetaneh Tokef prayer which begins,
“You open the book of our days, and what is written there proclaims itself for it bears the signature of every human being…On Rosh Hashanah it is written, and on Yom Kippur it is sealed: How many shall pass on, how many shall come to be; who shall live and who shall die…”.
Rabbi Kushner writes: “I now see the opening paragraph of the prayer, the part in which we are told that the book is opened and the entries are in our own handwriting, as a poetic way of saying that some of the things that will happen to me in the year ahead will be the result of things I do and choices I make”… the second half of the prayer are things beyond my control… “a poetic way of saying that many of the things that will shape my fate in the new year will be out of my hands, the result of biology, luck, and other people’s choices.”
And that’s when I solicited Tevye’s help. Fiddler on the Roof is the quintessential L’chaim story. And Reb Tevye’s song was just what I needed to organize my thoughts for Rosh Hashanah. In typical rabbinic process, let’s use the song L’chaim as our Jewish text tonight.
Tevyeasks for prosperity.
Tevyeasks for good health.
Tevyeasks for good fortune.
And so do we. Tevye, the milkman with five marriageable daughters, knew only too well that we don’t always get what we ask for. He wanted to be rich so he would have time to study. We all dream some dreams that are just impossible to attain in our lifetimes.
A few months ago, I spoke at the funeral of a man who was on our Mi Shebeirach list longer than anyone else in the history of our congregation. At the young age of 33, with two little kids, he was diagnosed with ALS. For 13 years, we prayed for him to live to watch his children grow up, and to be able to love his family and friends who stood by him and gave him such loving care. He had a promising career and loved life. Until the end, even though he couldn’t speak and could barely move, he worked at the computer in his family business, and he watched his children become wonderful young people. David was a model of last Shabbat’s command from God in Deuteronomy: “Be strong and resolute.” He had courage and he fought to live.
I ask myself, “What did it take for him to say L’chaim!- each day for thirteen years?” I can’t even imagine. Even in his worst hour, when so many of his dreams were not to be, he had good fortune – the good fortune of having loved ones and friends who were there for him in life, and in death.
Tevye sings, “Here’s to the father I tried to be.”
For many people, life is simple. You fall in love, get married, have kids, try to be a good parent, and if you are lucky, you live to see your children’s children, and if truly blessed your great-grandchildren, as well. But, parenting is anything but simple. L’chaim calls us to live our values and impart our life’s wisdom, while at the same time allowing our children to find meaning in the values we impart, and to find their own wisdom and path in life. Parents who truly try, who give it their best effort, give life, and love, and a future to the child who becomes their life, their love, and their legacy. There are good days and bad days, and days that make it all worthwhile, most of the time. There are also some regrets or failures along the way. And for some, trying just might not be enough. That’s life.
Lazar Wolf, the old butcher of the tale, arranging a marriage with Tevye’s oldest daughter who is much younger says, “Here’s to my bride to be.”
L’chaimis a song about an engagement for a wedding that never materializes. Tevye lives in a world where love and marriage didn’t go together like a horse and carriage, but was just starting to be about choosing someone to love, rather than having someone choose for you. We all know how important it is to have a world where everyone can choose whom to love and marry. Unfortunately for Lazar Wolf and Tevye, the song outlives the courtship. But, life is filled with all kinds of relationships, and marriage is one of them, for some people.
In 1909, a not so young woman in Manhattan found out that the man she loved and hoped to marry had run off and married a woman he’d just met. Not every relationship is meant to be. She had every right to withdraw into self-pity, or retreat from the world. Thankfully, the woman did not rush to enter into a loveless marriage. Unable to find someone to share her life with, she decided to give love and healing to the world, by founding a worldwide organization that just celebrated its centenary. From the children of Nazi Europe to streets of Jerusalem she took care of the sick and those in need. She never had her own children, but her gravestone reads, “Mother of Thousands.” Henrietta Szold founded Hadassah and its hospital on Mount Scopus, and the Women’s Zionist Organization. Her L’chaim spirit is still inspiring generations of women today.
And sometimes a marriage is meant to be. Today’s couples spend a long time planning every detail of their weddings. But, even the best-laid plans confront the fact that life is unpredictable, and so is the weather. Our family learned first hand this year the truth of the old Yiddish phrase, “Mensch tracht un Gott lacht. – Man plans and God laughs.” Hurricane Sandy devastated New Jersey the week of Jonah and Debra’s wedding. There was a curfew, the hotel was closed, the venue had no lights, and transportation up and down the east coast was paralyzed. L’chaim also teaches us that Life is about adapting and changing, especially when necessary. So the New Jersey wedding they planned for over a year, was moved to Virginia in two days. It was the wedding that was meant to be, thanks to the fact that a host of people stepped up to say L’chaim with us.
It takes a wedding to make us say,
Let’s live another day. Drink L’chaim, to Life.
Last week’s Washington Post (8/25/13) recorded that a couple was married in a West Pennsylvania hospital so that the groom’s mother, who was dying of cancer, could see the wedding. The son was quoted as saying, “Life is short.”
Isn’t that the truth? L’chaim is about savoring the joys of every day, with those we love, no matter how many days we have left.
Jewish tradition teaches us to continue with a simcha even after a death, because happy occasions are few and far between in life, but death is always with us. This past June, a courageous and wonderful TBS family went through with a Bar Mitzvah two days after burying the patriarch of the family. Life is not fair, or easy, or in our control. But, we can control our response with an affirmation that L’chaim pulls us back to celebrate life. L’chaim is loving and living and giving, in spite of heartache or hurricane, illness or death.
And the song continues, “Life has a way of confusing us; Blessing and bruising us.”
It certainly does. That is where Torah, tradition, and our Jewish calendar become part of our L’chaim toolbox of survival. We are all here, because this is THE HAVEN for the sick, the mourner, the young and the old, to seek and find healing, connection, and lifelong meaning and purpose. Many days, this temple is an ER, standing by people from one emergency or crisis to another. This is the place where people celebrate their blessings and find care for their bruises.
Getting help and giving help is the essence of L’chaim. B’nai Shalom is where we pray the Mi Shebeirach and say the Kaddish, as the world goes about its business and busyness. Life is unpredictable. We never know when our turn to be bruised will come. So rather than be confused or fearful, we are taught to live and give to make sure that everyone has a sanctuary in life, when blessings turn to bruises.
God would like us to be joyful even when our hearts lie panting on the floor.
Even at our worst moments, Tevye imagines a God who wants him to accentuate the positive, rather than dwell on the negative, which is what he is inclined to do from time to time. He can either say, “I have five daughters!” –focusing on the blessing of children and love. But, he chooses to say, “I have five daughters!” – to focus on the headaches of finding husbands to get the girls off his hands.
We believe in a God who gives us free will and choices. As such, we are in control of how we handle what life has in store for us, and how we embrace life, in spite of the adversity that is part of living.
I am in awe of how the people of Newtown are recovering and getting ready to send their kids into a new school year, and my heart still breaks for all those victims of Katrina and Sandy who can never get back the homes and lives that Mother Nature took away, but carry on.
Viktor Frankl, a survivor of Auschwitz, in his book Man’s Search for Meaning reveals an important life lesson about our responses to life when he says, “Everything can be taken from a man, but the last of human freedoms, the right to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.”
A wise man said, “Humility is the realization that not everything that happens in life is all about you… that there is not some cosmic conspiracy to deprive you of happiness.” (Kushner, p. 120) So many people look up at the heavens and ask the God they may or may not believe in, “Why me?” And as the cartoon outside my office will tell you. God responds, “Why not, you?” Imagine for a moment that you are not the center of the universe and that God doesn’t wake up each morning determined to make your life as miserable as Job’s.
L’chaimis an affirmation of Life in spite of its problems. I find that some of my most difficult life moments have enabled me to see life more fully, cherish more deeply, and help others more effectively. When you get up from “panting on the floor,” and return to living Life, you realize that going beyond yourself and your problems really works.
In counseling, we often recommend volunteering to people who are spending the preponderance of their time wallowing in self-pity. Go out and find someone who has it worse off than you do.
L’chaimis about a life lived by making sacrifices for others – by doing things when it is inconvenient; and by going out of your way – when you are too tired, or too busy, or too pressured.
“How much more can we joyful
When there’s really something to be joyful for?”
Joy is such an important part of what sustains us in life. Nowhere in the Torah does God promise us that we will be happy. Yet, every human being seeks happiness and joy to sustain us through the tough times. We need to learn to savor the joys and drink them in when they come.
Great joys often happen in community. Being privileged to share those joys is one of the best parts of being a rabbi. Births and B’nai Mitzvah, weddings and anniversaries are just a few of the many celebrations in life when we not only shout L’chaim, but we stop to say Shehecheyanu, our blessing thanking God for a special moment in life:
Blessed are you, Adonai my God, Ruler of the Universe who has given me life, sustained me in this life, and has enabled me to reach this moment in time.
(Recite Hebrew, too)
Shehecheyanumoments are also moments to celebrate recovery from illness or escaping danger. I have stood at the ark and said HaGomel, our survivors’ prayer, with courageous people who have learned that life is so much more precious when you have survived a moment when you weren’t sure you would make it. We are here tonight to thank God for making it through the last year, and to ask for more time on this wonderful earth.
Shehecheyanumoments are also moments of marking the transitions in our ever-changing lives. Whether it is retirement, graduation, a move, or a farewell to what was without knowing what will be, the “L’chaim” part of life, calls you to your future, never demanding that you abandon your past. There is still the possibility of a new life, a new vocation, a new dream, and a new way of living or loving.
Not all of life’s possibilities and choices will turn out to be pleasant ones, but some might be and part of living is taking that risk, for there is so much joy and blessing left to share in our world.
It gives us something to think about
Something to drink about
Drink L’chaim, to life!
Here’s something to think about:
We live in the #1 place for traffic and accidents. We have now surpassed LA. As the Washington Post reported on Monday, road rage has taken over our area. The article shared that 1 out of 10 drivers, and 1 out of 6 younger drivers admit to aggressive, anger-driven driving. The author said it is so out of control that there is a phenomenon of “road rage nursery,” where children learn that in a car your personality becomes more violent, and they will be programmed to do the same in the future.
Stop tailgating, weaving and cutting people off, speeding, and driving aggressively.
Stop running lights, and thinking the laws of the road don’t apply to you.
Stop texting while you drive.
Stop talking on the phone when you are driving.
My permanently damaged neck and every study out there says that people who do those things are using their license to kill, maim, handicap, or destroy the lives of others. You have no idea how much I want to make bumper stickers about the people who text and tailgate and talk on the phone. Good people don’t do that. People who care about life and the lives of their passengers and others don’t drive distracted or inebriated. The Torah teaches, “Choose life that you and your children may live.” Stop if you are a perpetrator of these evils. Speak up. Speak out. Report and reprimand. L’chaim is about saving lives, not taking them.
Tevye may have had something to drink about as he arranged his daughter’s marriage, but for too many people, young and old, drinking is not a moderate activity of celebration. Call me old fashioned, but drinking and drugs and partying in excess is a poor excuse for living. L’chaim is about living responsibly and not engaging in or enabling addictions, or abuse that destroys lives, yours and those of others. L’chaim. Make choices in life to live life responsibly, and to show that you hold every life sacred, including your own.
May all your futures be pleasant ones,
not like our present ones.
In the words of Roseanne Rosanna Dana, of blessed memory, “There’s always something.” Boy, is there ever! And the Jewish version of that is a great line attributed to Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan, “expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are an honest person is like expecting the bull not to charge you because you are a vegetarian.” (p. 126)
Daily life can be hard and challenging, unfair and exhausting. Yet, we pray for life and do all we can to sanctify and preserve it. Our present is filled with the stuff of life: illness and death, depression, anxiety or both, economic hardships, relationship problems, excess, over-consumption, pollution and war. We love a good Passover plague, because we relate to life being crazy and out of control.
I spend my days finding ways to give people control of their lives. There is always something in your control. It may not be money or health, but you decide how you will live each day and make the most of every breath.
We’ll raise a glass and sip a drop of schnapps
in honor of the great good luck that favored you
We know that when good fortune favors two such men
It stands to reason we deserve it, too.
Sometimes we get what we deserve, and sometimes we don’t. That’s a fact of life. Mazel means “luck” in Hebrew. A schlemazel is a person who is unlucky all the time. We walk around saying, Mazel tov, knowing full well that the streets aren’t paved with luck, so we have to celebrate it when we have it. And sometimes we have to make mazel happen. We may not always get what we deserve, but that doesn’t mean we give up on having a happy life.
In his book, Aging Well, the psychiatrist George Vaillant identified two traits to late life contentment:
1) a growing circle of friendships,
2) nurturing our ability to forgive slights and injuries.
For some making new friends may be very hard. For most of us, forgiveness is one of the reasons we come to temple on Rosh Hashanah. The ability to forgive slights or sins is a messy and complicated business for human beings.
Rabbi Kushner teaches, “Forgiveness is not a matter of exonerating people who have hurt you. They may not deserve exoneration. Forgiveness means cleansing your soul of the bitterness of ‘what might have been,’ ‘what should have been,’ and ‘what didn’t need to happen.’ Someone has defined forgiveness as “giving up all hope of having had a better past. What is past is past and there is little to be gained by dwelling on it.” (p. 168)
In other words,
L’chaimis our direction for life.
Move on. Get over it. Get a life!
And if our good fortune never comes
Here’s to whatever comes
Drink L’chaim, to life!
Whatever comes, we want and need to be happy and fulfilled. So how to we get there? Freud believed we needed two things to be happy in life: love and work. Rabbi Kushner offers a five-part recipe for a good life: family, friends, faith, work, and the satisfaction of making a difference.He highlights our Jewish need to feel that we are contributing to our world, as partners with God in the ongoing work of creation. That is what we Jews call Tikkun Olam– doing our part to show gratitude for whatever good fortune we have by paying it forward to humanity and our planet.
L’chaimis all about the things that are most important for living. Freud and Kushner have their lists. I am going to spend time in the New Year making my list, and I hope you empower yourself to make yours. The challenge of life is to find the time to live and give, love and care, work and share, and to do it all well. But, thegoal of life is to figure out what will help you live each day to best of your ability, with purpose and meaning. L’chaim is a call to our future, to making 5774 the year where we live life to the fullest, our cup overflowing, our outlook positive and hopeful .
Here’s to our prosperity.
Our good health and happiness.
And most important…
To life. To life. L’chaim.
L’chaim, L’chaim, to life!