The
morning back in high school that I took the SAT’s, I packed my number 2 pencils
and was about to leave the house when my mother said to me, “Remember. All you can do is the best you can do.”
She
said that to me numerous times as I was growing up. Before tests. Before I went onstage to act in a show. On my wedding day…
All
you can do is the best you can do.
However,
with enormous respect for my mother, may she rest in peace, I’m going to begin
my comments by modifying hers a bit and encouraging us to evaluate ourselves using what I believe is a more effective measure.
Truth
is, not every situation calls for “the best we can do.”
When
our kids were growing up and we would get dinner ready, we realized it didn’t
have to be our best. It just had
to be reasonably nutritious and something they would eat. We knew we could do
“better,” but with all of the other competing priorities we chose not to. We didn’t aspire to be Wolfgang Puck
while we were making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for their school lunches.
When
we cleaned up at the end of the day we realized we didn’t have to do our
best. We just had to make sure it
was neat enough and we determined what neat enough was.
On
arguably the holiest day of the year, when we’re supposed to take a look at
ourselves, and a look at the world, and ask appropriate self-reflective
questions about how we relate to the world, I propose the following question
that we can ask today, and all year long, about different situations.
Are
we trying hard enough?
In
each realm of our lives, the mundane and the unusual, the individual and the
societal, are we trying hard enough?
Though
the answer to this question may vary from person to person, I want to offer a
framework and some guidance.
When
it comes to how we keep house, or make meals, I’m going to say that we should
figure out what works for us and then say, we’re trying hard enough. Once when our children were little, one
of our parents, I honestly don’t remember who, walked into our house and made a
comment about a pile of papers here or there and I said something like, “Would
you like to see an immaculate house or well-cared for grandchildren? It’s not going to be both.”
I’m
not going to devote much time to this realm. Regarding all the things in our lives that are
non-essential, I hope that we can say “we are trying hard enough.” Not our best, we freely admit, but enough
given limited energy and resources.
Because we have to save our energy for the things that are essential.
To
which I will now turn my attention.
I now want to reflect on situations that call for our best and usually,
in my experience, we give them our best.
But we just evaluate ourselves too harshly, especially when the
situations are beyond our ultimate control.
I
recently had a conversation with a group of people who are helping provide
medical support for their aging parents.
One observed that she constantly feels like she’s not doing enough – no
matter how much time she spends at the hospital, no matter how much time she spends
interfacing with health care professionals, she feels like she isn’t doing
enough.
Another
feels inadequate because despite the fact that his parent has an advanced healthcare
directive, situations arise during the course of treatment that are more
nuanced than what the directive called for and the parent could not be
consulted at that point. So unanticipated
situations are occurring and he just doesn’t know what to do.
True,
there are people who in these situations are not sufficiently responsive or missing
in action altogether, but I tend to observe people who are doing their best in
situations that call for their best, and doing their best – doing OUR best –
isn’t good enough in the sense that it doesn’t resolve the situation. Despite doing our best, we often cannot
create a positive outcome or even a decent outcome.
This
realm – the realm of “we do our
best and still things are lousy” – is a big realm. And as tempting as it is to blame ourselves, that’s probably
not the healthiest course of action.
We
may feel this way about medical outcomes we could not change. We may feel this way about profound
challenges that our children face that we cannot fix or even appreciably
improve. We may feel this way about
a professional or personal situation that we applied ourselves to assiduously
and due to circumstances beyond our control, things didn’t turn out the way we
wished.
I
hope we can give ourselves the blessing of “I’m trying as hard as I can” when
we are juggling more than we can handle, when we cannot acquire all
the information we need, when all of our efforts cannot reverse a negative
situation.
And
then there are areas where we probably should try harder than we’re actually
trying.
Deborah
Lipstadt took on the Holocaust denier David Irving in a famous court case held
in England 16 years ago that was recently made into a movie. She was interviewed about the case and
asked why it was that Rachel Weisz, the actress playing her, featured her as
being so consistently frustrated.
And
she explained how she was genuinely frustrated as the case began, and as she
tried to adjust to the realities of the British legal system and to the
generally more restrained British cultural norms.
Her
frustration diminished as she allowed herself to partner fully with the
lawyers, who understood the British system and were able to maximize their collective
chance of defeating David Irving.
Lipstadt
and her legal team tried their hardest, marshaled piles of evidence,
“footnotes,” as one of the lawyers called it. And they won.
Despite the fact that the burden of proof was on Lipstadt, who was
defending herself against a lawsuit imposed by Irving, she and her legal team
won.
But
I turn to all of us and ask, in certain areas, are WE trying hard enough?
Are
we trying hard enough to ensure that a generation that is emerging into
adulthood has the tools to respond appropriately to Holocaust Denial? To unabashed anti-Semitism? To unjustified, demonizing criticism of
Israel?
Again
and again I’ve said, and I’ll say it again – we need to pursue “high
resolution,” an awareness of detail, not just broad strokes, so that we, and
our children, and their children, all generations – can assess what’s being
said on social media and on college campuses and in other settings as well – to
distinguish between justified and unjustified criticism and to know how to
respond to both.
We
are not to be expected to have the degree of expertise of Deborah Lipstadt and
her legal team, but are we trying hard enough to know enough, and ensure that
our loved ones know enough, to be responsible participants in these important
conversations and situations?
And
the question can be applied to a variety of important issues that help to shape
the kind of society that we want ourselves and our loved ones to inhabit. Today of all days, we should be asking
these questions.
Are
we trying hard enough to ensure that we, our children and grandchildren,
understand and fulfill the Jewish mandate to ensure justice for all people –
regardless of religion or race or sexuality or gender?
On
Rosh Hashanah I spoke about a Jewish undergraduate at UCLA who is striving to
defend herself as a Jew while also defending the rights of others. I spoke about Elie Wiesel and Shimon
Peres – who defend their people and reached out to all people.
Are
we trying hard enough to convey, midor l’dor – from one generation to the next
– that Judaism demands that we protect ourselves and also reach out to
others? That we defend our rights – to practice freely throughout the
globe, to have a Jewish state – and that we defend the rights of others? That we don’t say thank you to the
person who opened the door so we could enter, and then close the door behind us
to prevent others from walking in?
Are
we trying hard enough to convey, midor l’dor – that a person’s value comes from
having been created in God’s image – not from color, not from wealth, not from
looks. How often do we tell
children how beautiful and handsome they are and does the ratio of these
comments to comments about their kindness and integrity reflect the
self-assessment and the priorities that we want them to have?
Are
we trying hard enough to convey, midor l’dor – one generation to another – that
sexuality should be regarded as a gift that can help to create excitement and
intimacy and connection, not as a vehicle for exerting dominance or asserting ego,
that “locker room talk” or any other phrase, no matter who uses it, cannot be
used to exonerate degradation and assault, accomplished or intended?
Maybe
we are trying hard enough, maybe we aren’t. Maybe we’re each doing better in some areas than
others.
But
we need to ask ourselves, are we trying hard enough, and if the answer is no,
or even not quite, then we have to talk to each other – rabbis and teachers and
participants in the life of this community – about how to succeed in these
crucial areas.
In
our high school program here we are having these conversations – about how
Judaism urges us to live with confidence and responsibility, respect for self
and respect for others. The
conversations take place in age appropriate ways before high school and they
need to continue long after high school, for children and adults.
And
I say to all of us, there’s so much more work us to do to ensure that Temple
Israel is a place where everyone feels welcome to experience the power of
Judaism to bring blessing to our lives and to our world. We just won a grant to
increase accessibility to our sanctuary.
Through the effort of a very dedicated committee, Temple Israel is
working to make our facility more and more accessible.
On
Selihot night Cantor Frieder was joined by Cantor Farid Dardashti who brought
Sephardi chants and melodies and a choir of teens accompanied both of them
using melodies from throughout the Jewish world. We are working to embrace our diversity more fully.
There’s
so much more work for all of us to do to ensure that this is a place where we value
and protect ourselves and where we value and protect others.
So
much more work for all of us to do to ensure that what we do here raises up
sparks of holiness midor l’dor, from one generation to another that will have
an impact far beyond us.
The
Biblical imperative of the day is ועניתם את נפשותיכם v’initem et nafshoteikhem – afflict your souls. We know the rabbis interpreted that to
include not eating our drinking and other forms of abstinence.
I
would like to add an interpretation.
V’initem et nafshoteikhem can mean, challenge your souls. Ask yourselves, Are we trying hard
enough?
We
will spend much time this day banging our chests and reciting long lists of
sins.
I
want to suggest the following.
Take a moment – during those prayers, or whenever, and ask yourself a
few questions based on what I’ve shared.
What
are the things that don’t require my best performance ‘cause they’re not
essential? Am I giving them too much
attention? Can I lighten up on my
performance?
What
are the things that require my heart and soul and I’m giving my heart and soul
– but still they’re not working out how I’d like because of multiple factors
beyond my control that pertain to health and other such circumstances? Can I lighten up on my self-evaluation?
And
lastly – what are the things I know to be important, but I’m not yet trying as
hard as I should. And what can I
do, and how can I gain the resources, and with whom can I partner – so I can do
these things more effectively.
And
now that my sermon is almost over, I imagine my mother saying,
“Interesting. Did you do the best
you can do?”
And
I say, “Ma – didn’t you hear? I
refined the question to ‘Did you try as hard as you should?’”
And
then she says, Interesting. So –
did you do the best you can do?
And
my answer is – Mom – little by little, I’m trying. And we’re trying.
Hard
enough.
To
do our best.
Originally delivered at Temple Israel of Great Neck on Yom Kippur 5777
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