What Dad Told Me....

Dad said that nothing in life was free.  “You pay for everything,” he told me.  “Anything that is free is worth it.”   In other words, it was worth nothing.

I learned this well with my foray into the world of purchasing a time-share.  A novice, I was edged into their world with the promise of lush gifts, free vacations and open apartments…with NO CHARGE.  All I had to do was sit through a three hour lecture and tour.  Guess what?  Dad was right. 

Perhaps it was time well spent that day because it proved something I had been taught long ago.  But there was the kernel of something even more profound at work here.

There are many interesting things about children.  One of them is their unswerving ability to pry apart all my well-made plans.  I can carefully plot out a party, excursion or date and have them shot to smithereens with a single swipe from my youngest child.  A well-timed scream or fit can do it.  Children can fell us with a barb that would make the Marquis de Sade quiver with anxiety.  At the same time, when the world seems crushingly oppressive they can sing a little song in the aisle of K-Mart that will cause me to double over in laughter.

The way to reward a child for good behavior is the yawning gift of the great giraffe that greets kids into the emporium of toys.  Yet, every now and again it happens that it yields the wrong, unintended result.  Let me explain.

Being given the opportunity to get a new Barbie, my daughter questioned me on the way home, “Do I really deserve this, Abba?”  I tried to keep on the road.

I think one of the most important aspects of living is to get what we believe we have earned.  A raise not given when we have worked hard, a compliment unsaid can be both maddening and disappointing.  It is also true that most of us are focused on trying to make up for past deficits (think: psychotherapy).  Yet, what may be worse than going unrecognized for our contributions is getting something undeservedly, for free. 

L’foom agra, sachra says the Talmud.  “According to the effort is the reward.”  We would usually read this to mean that we gain more when we put forth greater effort.  Yet, the ancient ones meant that our effort is our reward.  In other words, we gain a sense of pride and joy when we place real energies into work.  Or as Saadya Gaon put it, “The more valuable the thing, the more effort it demands.”

Relationships here are key.  This is the one no-price-tag item which requires the most effort and gives no immediate tangible reward.  No easy feat to raise children.  It is also no small matter to remain in a loyal dyad -- and not just live together -- but to continue to work together at the most difficult of times.  Commitment, in a word. 

The essence of marriage is not that it promises an everyday romance but the willingness to forgive.  Just think how long a relationship would last if a partner would not forgive the foul mood and bad-temper days.  Successful parenting is no different.  It is the commitment to forgive and move on. 

The wonder of a marriage that does not just weather the passing of years and decades, is the reward in itself.  I have asked many people who have celebrated fifty years of marriage the secret of their long-lasting relationship.  Invariably they respond with something like “I always listen to her” or “We have an agreement to always work out our problems.”  I have never heard anyone say to me that their marriage was an effortless endeavor.  They are happy in the twilight of their years with the pride that has come from making it a lasting relationship.

I see people peripherally attached to their roots come in droves to Synagogues on these coming Days of Awe.  I marvel at the sight of hundreds converging at the Synagogue.  For many, the experience of coming to Shul works.  For others it does not.  For all those who are not touched read on.  Question: Why are others moved by the service?  What does it do to them that does not touch my soul? 

Rosh Hashanna has two names, Yom HaZikaron and Yom Teruah.  The first term means Day of Remembering.  At once from heaven and earth there is a reconstructing of the year’s events, good and bad.  God recalls all that we have done in these past twelve months.  Yom HaZikaron conjures up all the deeds we have performed before placing them on the great balance of life on Yom Kippur.  While the Holy One does this we do the same from the pew.  We assess who we are based upon how we have treated others, ourselves, the world and God.  Knowing that God is doing the same is a sobering thought.  Remembering without defensiveness is no easy feat.  It requires fearlessness.

Would we like us if we viewed ourselves dispassionately as a friend or enemy might?  Does God approve?  How often did we lie to protect our interests?  Cheat?  Steal?  These items we place on our personal altar before the Lord. 

Yom Teruah, according to Samson Raphael Hirsch, is the willingness to take seriously what we have just found and make a break with the past.  That is why one of the names of the Shofar blasts is called teruah.  It is filled with breaks to signal a real change in behavior.

Like a relationship with another person, we talk out our problems with a commitment to change.  When we treat the dialogue with seriousness and create parameters of change (teshuvah), we earn the gift.  We feel uplifted by what we have contributed because we came prepared to be honest with ourselves and God.  Services are not like the theatre; this requires our soul participation to make it really meaningful.  Anything that comes too cheaply we instantly recognize for what it is, worthless.

Perhaps the old wish for the New Year should be revised to: May you make this year a sweet one.  Earn it.