Happiness
Rabbi Melanie Aron
September 21, 2002
Over the past two weeks, with the celebration of Rosh Hashanah
and Yom Kippur, we have been dealing with a lot of commandments:
to hear the sound of the shofar, to fast, to cast our sins into
the sea, to forgive those who ask our forgiveness and seek
forgiveness of those we have wronged.
On Succot we also have a variety of commandments, dwelling in a
Succah, shaking the lulav and the etrog, thanking god for the
bounty of the earth and the rain which helps to produce it, but
one of the commandments seemed to me to be particularly
interesting. That is the commandment to be happy- or more
literally "vehayitah ach samech", you shall be only, exclusively,
joyous.
This is an interesting and challenging commandment for several
reasons.
The first is the question of whether you can be commanded to feel
a particular way.
Normally we think of moods and feelings, as controlling us and
not as something we can control. We can't make ourselves feel
generous, or make ourselves feel love, or even make ourselves
feel happy.
Interestingly Judaism takes the view that we do have some control
over our feelings and can prime the pump. Traditionally our moods
don't excuse us in any way from the commandments, we can't not
give to someone in need, arguing that since we don't feel
generous it would be hyposritical. Certain actions are required
irrespective of how we feel. In addition Judaism believes in
priming the pump. If we act in a generous manner and give
tzedakah, the hope is that we will eventually feel generous. If
we act lovingly towards our neighbor, if we return an object to
our enemy or lift up his ox that has fallen under its burden, we
will come to feel more kindly toward him, and if we act in a
joyous manner, eventually it will not be an act. This is actually
supported by contemporary social psychologists, who believe that
because of the mechanisms of cognitive dissonance, acting
generously will in fact cause us to feel generous, and acting
cheerful can make us feel less grouchy. Also psychologists have
found that rehearsing our grievances, rather than making us feel
better by getting it all out, actually makes us feel worse and
raises our stress level. Even simple things like smiling effect
our physiology in a beneficial way. I remember when I was living
in a very small apartment in New York city, where my only window
looked out on a brick wall. There were Friday afternoons when I
didn't feel at all motivated to make Shabbat, to put the
tablecloth on the table, pull out the candles and challah plate.
But doing those things would usually succeed in changing my mode,
so that by the time I was done, I felt much more ready for
Shabbat.
Another question one might ask about the commandment to be happy,
is why do we need it? Think of the original setting of this
holiday. The ancient Israelite farmer has just harvested his
crops, his barn is full, his work for the year is complete. Why
do we need to command him to be happy? Wouldn't he be happy
naturally.
Rav Gifter says this commandment comes to prevent us from ruining
our own happiness by comparing ourselves with our neighbor. The
ancient Israelite farmer is happy, until he glances over at his
neighbor's barn. Then he begins to wonder. Does my neighbor have
more than me? The Talmud already noted that it is human nature-
if a man has a hundred he wants two hundred, and if he has two
hundred then three hundred. As long as we are comparing ourselves
to others we will not be able to be happy. That is why we are
taught, "Mee Ashir who is happy"?
(This is sometimes translated, who is rich, as ashir means rich
in modern Hebrew. However in Biblical Hebrew it more commonly
means happy, as in the ashrei psalms, ashrei yoshvey
veytechah-happy is the one who dwells in your house)
This relates too the difference the rabbis see in the way Esau
and Jacob talk about the property they possess as mature men.
Esau says he has rov, a lot, plenty, but Jacob says hakol,
everything, I have everything I need.
The one who is satisfied with his portion. The commandment to be
only happy, is the commandment to focus only on what we have, and
not to be constantly comparing ourselves with others.
Another rabbi found a different explanation for why we are
commanded to be happy. The ancient Israelite farmer has just
harvested his crops. You might think that's cause for rejoicing
but for some people that's when the worrying begins. Will it be
enough for the winter? Will I be able to store it safely or
rodents or other pests get into it? Will I get a good price for
it when I bring it to market? Those are all reasonable worries,
but there is a time for rejoicing too.
The rabbis tell a story about a heretic who has an argument with
Rabbi Joshua. "Why did God say "and it was very good" after
creating humankind? Didn't God know how many bad things would
happen as a result of human action?" Rabbi Joshua said to the
heretic:" Didn't you just celebrate a birth in your house?" The
heretic responsed "yes". Rabbi Joshua continued:" Isn't it true
that the baby will eventually, even if he lives to 120, die.?"
The heretic responded with a common folk saying of his times:"
Joy at the time of joy and mourning at the time of mourning."
Rabbi Joshua said that such was God's view of creation and such
should be our view of life. "To everything there is a season,"
when the time of celebrating is here, we strive to be ach
saemach. The Israelite farmer is urged to rejoice on Succot and
leave his worries for the future to some other time.