Yom kippur 2007 - Kol Nidre © Rabbi Robert L. Wolkoff |
What's another name for a penny?
Judaism is about shaping the future, not just shaping future generations, although that is important enough, but shaping the future itself. The future of humanity. It is about shaping the world so that it matches our dreams. Eleanor Roosevelt once said, "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." And we are humanity's dreamers, par excellence.
This is an audacious claim, to be sure. We are a little people, a miniscule percentage of humanity. Can we really arrogate to ourselves such a decisive role? And, if so, is there the slightest chance that we could actually reach our goal, and shape the future?
The answer is: absolutely yes. In fact, obviously yes, because we have already done it. Through our relationship with G-d and through the gift of Torah, we have literally created the values that now pass for the common moral goods and legal standards of all humankind. It is what we have always done, and we have done it so successfully that we hardly notice what we have accomplished. We introduced the idea that there is one G-d's an idea now shared by over three billion people. We introduced the idea that human life is of infinite value, since we are created in the image of G-d's an idea that has become, in principle at least, the shared heritage of humanity. We introduced the very idea of "humanity", the recognition that there is a holy bond between "us" and "them", between the members of our own group and the stranger's an idea that, in an era of potential global catastrophe, is essential not just for our survival, but for the survival of humanity itself.
Shaping the future is clearly nothing new for us. We have been, and are meant to be, the most eternal of optimists, the dreamers of humanity. We are meant to have, and convey, infinite trust in the future. We know that dreams do come true.
I'll mention one example. When the State of Israel was born, there were those who said that it couldn't possibly make it, that it could never establish economic independence, that it would always be a charity case. It's not hard to see why. In 1950, 50% of Israel's GNP(50%) came from charitable donations. Today, that's down to 2%, and dropping.
Dreams do come true.
The opposite of dreaming is... distrust. Our tradition teaches us that one of the first questions we will be asked when we stand before the Divine Court in the World to Come is "Did you keep waiting for the redemption of the world?" When we make comments like, "There'll never be peace in the Middle East," or "There's no way to end poverty," or "There's no way to save people who are victims of war or disease or catastrophe," we are betraying our very essence as Jews, and, I would argue, denying reality, all at the same time.
Through G-d and Torah, because of our unique historical experiences and the spiritual creativity that reflects them, we have become a special part of the very evolutionary development of the human species. If the world today is dealing poorly and haphazardly with massive problems affecting the sustainability of life on earth-the danger of pandemics, nuclear war, environmental degradation, and so forth-the reason is that "The task of achieving sustainability does not easily fit into [the] usual frame of social and political decision-making."-but it does fit perfectly into the usual frame of Jewish decision-making, based as it is on long-term, rather than short-term, considerations. As Jews, we have an obligation to bring our perspective to bear on these issues.
Primitive societies will produce environmental pressures (like garbage) that are usually addressed by simply moving on to another place. Jews, who were meant to be rooted in one land-indeed, one holy land-did not have that option. We had nowhere else to go. Today, humanity's problems are global and may require even ten lifetimes to solve. In other words, humanity itself has nowhere else to go; so our long-term Jewish perspective, based on Torah and mitzvot, has become that much more essential for humanity's survival.
Politicians looking only to the next election can't solve our problems. Economists who assume there is no future worth considering beyond a single generation can't solve our problems. Someone said, "This leaves only the ecologists and spinners of speculative fiction with a time horizon stretching thousands of years into the future." Yes, ecologists, spinners of speculative fiction, and us Jews.
Our problem is that we, as Jews, often forget our mission. As Jews, we are intended to take the "here-and-now" and bring out the holy and spiritual and eternal it contains. But instead, even we all-too-often act like the "here-and-now" is all there is. As Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel described it, we are messengers who have forgotten the message.
I was reminded of that message, and of the hope of infinite possibility we are supposed to see in every moment, just a little while ago. We were helping my son Ethan with a homework assignment. He was supposed to collect items that start with the letter C. It turned out to be a harder assignment than we first thought-the first of many such experiences, I imagine. It was hard because, if you think about it, there are hard c-words, like "cat," and affricative ch-words, like "chair," and soft c-words, like celery. We were thinking of examples for soft c-words when Ruth-Ann came up with the question, "what's another name for a penny?"
Ethan's answer knocked us right back on our heels. It made us understand the old rabbinic adage that it is the breath of schoolchildren that keeps the world going. And it reminded us of the difference between good thinkers and great thinkers: good thinkers can only give us the correct answer, while great thinkers can give us the right answer.
And for us as Jews, the only right answers are answers that last, answers that reflect our dreams, answers that point to the future and shape it. That is why we begin Yom Kippur with the Kol Nidre prayer. Kol Nidre relieves us of responsibility for vows we made in the past year, vows we did not keep. Such vows were momentary declarations, reflecting short-term, here-and-now decisions out of step with the long-term reality of our lives. They were vows just meant to be broken, and vows meant to be broken are the moral equivalent of "churning" stock market portfolios: rapid buying and selling that creates no value, but gives the illusion of serious activity.
In fact, in the world of business, politics and science there is a concept called "short-termism" making the rounds. Short-termism is the attempt to devise policies that make it look as though effective action is being taken to solve problems, whether or not that action is effective either in the short-term or, more significantly, the long term. "Short-termism' parallels very closely what we experience as Jews who have stopped dreaming. In fact, it's hard to imagine a better understanding of our broken vows and unfulfilled promises. Instead of allowing legitimate long-term considerations, shaped by Torah and mitzvot, to guide our lives, we are too smart by half. We make it look as though effective action is being taken to solve problems, whether or not that action is effective either in the short-term or, more significantly, the long term.
The world is filled with examples of short-termism. One of the most famous is the decision by mutual fund managers to make transactions that look good on quarterly earnings reports, but are really bad decisions vis-a-vis the long-term goals of their clients. Such behavior in fact decreases long-term value, leads to all sorts of bad decisions like cutting R&D, and is a serious barrier to progress, sacrificing value creation to the immediate need for good PR. And you get what you pay for. Prioritizing short-term fixes over long-term dreams, the experts say, works only a third of the time.
As Jews, we are very interested in "value creation," and we are not alone. Someone else who shares our interest is Warren Buffett, who seems to know something about value creation given that one share of his Berkshire Hathaway stock is worth $100,000. He has been leading the charge to stop pursuing quarterly earnings mirages-and some major firms like Coca-Cola, Intel, and Pfizer" have signaled their plans to follow his advice.
But portfolio managers aren't the only ones who are tempted to sacrifice dreams for the sake of daily reports. From China to Sweden, from Australia to England, one can read about the perverse effects of short-termism. In Chinese manufacturing and construction, discussions have been going on for years about the fact that producers, realizing that they cannot possibly fill their quota within the short span of the contract, take more risks than is good for the firm, harming future growth and profitability... In other words, if you are wondering why all that lead paint has been used on the toys that come from China, short-termism is the simple answer.
Jews, on the other hand, have always known we were in it for the long haul-in fact, the longest of hauls, building a messianic future. When you think in periods not of three years but of three thousand years, it behooves you to protect your assets and avoid foolish risks.
Outside the world of business, another way "short-termism" stunts the growth of humanity is in the world according to the mass media. As we approach another presidential election season, we should contemplate what it means that routinely, 'The media has to explain what we just heard a politician say. Not only that, but if you missed the speech you have virtually no chance of seeing it again in its entirety. It gets spoon fed to us in clips, sound bites, and analysis. It's [just] assumed no one pays attention for more than 30 seconds."
Of course, the absurdity of needing anybody to explain to us what a politician just said should be obvious. And remember, there was a time that a thirty second attention-span was a symptom of attention deficit disorder. Humanity's problems aren't going to get solved in 30 seconds. Judaism has always known that serious thought requires not 30 seconds but 30 generations. That's what our Bible commentaries, and Talmud, and midrash, are all about. It should really put the fear of G-d into us that even if a politician could solve world hunger, if it would take him two whole minutes to explain how, he'd never get elected.
Short-termism has created serious land management problems, stifled R&D in crucial areas, not least, alternative energy development-about which Jews should be profoundly concerned, unless you like paying people to kill us-and has confused matters in climate issues.
Well, of course it would. Think about it on the personal level. Why should we manage our resources better, why should we immerse ourselves in learning and discovery, why should we care about the environment (physical, moral, spiritual) in which we live, if the here-and-now is all there is?
Part of the problem is an over-emphasis on our own self-interest-I am here and now, so I am the only person worth caring about; part of it is truly disastrous decision-making, which utterly ignores the future consequences of our actions; and part of it is that short-termism makes it difficult to correct the very problems it creates. At each level of the hierarchy of a business, the short-term benefit for the managers is to put the best face onto things, make the boss look good, emphasize only positive results, deny that there are any problems, and, when really in trouble, put the blame on someone else.
As we today attempt to do teshuvah, isn't it true that we, personally, do exactly the same thing? All year long, we have been telling ourselves how terrific we are. But when we look at our lives in a long-term perspective, when we think about what our dreams once were and compare our current selves to that standard, we don't look quite so terrific any more. This holy day of Yom Kippur is meant to bring us to that realization.
But it's not so easy. We learn from the business world that, "Long-term problems, and the need for longer-term programmes of action, tend to have a very low priority, except for public relations purposes." It's good for business to make it look like you're concerned for the future. And that, on this holy day, is a painful indictment indeed. Isn't it true that we usually ignore the big, long-term issues of our lives? And instead use the powerful catharsis and profound liturgy of Yom Kippur as a kind of psychological PR exercise-"selling ourselves" on our piety, on our devotion, on our commitment to long-term self-improvement, on our tolerance for long sermons-until we, on the day after Yom Kippur, start over exactly where we were on the day before?
Management consultant Charles Lines asks the question: "How many times have you come home from work, collapsed into a chair exhausted and, when thinking back over the day, been shocked to find that you cannot recall what you actually did, let alone achieved?" Now multiply that experience by a whole lifetime of days, and you can begin to understand what Yom Kippur is meant to help us think about, and correct. If all we have is the "here-and-now", then we will be left with nothing in the "hereafter-now."
In the business world, there is a whole new movement to counteract short-termism called "Slow leadership." The "slow leadership" gurus point out that at the core of short-termism is an inability to believe in the future. "Without patience or trust," they write, "there can only be short-term objectives, since no one is prepared to take the risk of waiting for the longer-term to receive their payoff."
The cure for short-termism is to do what Jews have always done best. Think, and dream, in millennial perspective. And I would like to underscore that we need that same kind of thinking, and same kind of dreaming, right here at B'nai Tikvah. Ours is, thank G-d, a community with truly unlimited potential. There is nothing beyond our grasp-but only if we think and dream BIG, with confidence in our abilities, faith in the future, and trust in G-d.
But how do we get there? In our driven lives, what can we do if we want to make a change? Yom Kippur tells us. It tells us to stop, to stop doing what we normally do, to stop living in the here-and-now alone and to refocus on what really matters. Charles Lines teaches that the word stop is really an acronym-S.T.O.P.:
S-stop what you are doing, mentally and physically;
T-think about the situation in which you find yourself
O-orient yourself vis-a-vis the big picture.
And, lastly, the letter P-plan for the future.
On Yom Kippur, we have Stopped our normal activities. We Think about the situation in which we find ourselves, which is nothing less than life itself. We Orient ourselves, as Jews-the oldest people on Earth-must, in millennial perspective. And we Plan the concrete steps we will take to shape the future. Lines recommends that you start doing something, every week, every day, that shapes the future the way you want it to be. For us, that something is called Judaism. Living a life based on Judaism, on Jewish wisdom and values and mitzvot, is good for our bodies, good for our souls and good for business.
As Jonathan Wellum has written: "In our materialistic culture, we have lost sight of the real wealth that is metaphysical in nature. It is the metaphysical component of wealth we have grossly undervalued and even sabotaged. But, our ability to create sustained wealth is directly tied to our ideas, creativity, innovations, faith in the future and most importantly our values. An economy not anchored in a strong and flourishing value system can not remain strong and prosperous."
There is a "metaphysical component of wealth." What a stunning insight! And if there is a better place to nurture that insight than right here at B'nai Tikvah, I would truly love to hear about it. It doesn't matter whether we are talking about economic wealth or spiritual wealth, personal wealth or societal wealth. When all is said and done, it is our long term goals, our transcendent awareness, our sense of sacred community-in a word, our dreams-that lead us toward what really matters, toward that which has true and lasting value, that which distinguishes between the correct answer and the right answer.
Which leads me back to that important question about soft-c words. What's another name for a penny? The correct answer, as we all know, is "cent." But Ethan gave us the right answer: tzedakah.
Utshuvah utfillah utzedakah maavirin et roah hagezeyrah
Repentance, prayer, and tzedakah-no matter how you spell it-give us faith in the future, and thereby remove the evil of the decree against us. If a child can look at the supposed root of all evil, money, and see mitzvah, then perhaps we need to rediscover the holy child within ourselves. To look at a penny, and to see it first and foremost as tzedakah, is a great start. To look at our hearts, and to be reminded of our most cherished dreams, is what comes next. To look at today, and to see the glory of the future, is to bring our goals within our grasp. "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."
On this Day of Atonement, this day of dreams, so may it be. Amen.
Rabbi Robert Wolkoff
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