Here are my Rosh Hashanah Sermons for 5770 (September 2009), delivered from the pulpit of Temple Beit Torah in Colorao Springs. Enjoy!
Live Like You Were Dying
Rabbi Don Levy
Rosh Hashanah Evening, 5770
A few weeks I had a telephone conversation with President Obama. Well…not exactly a private conversation with the President. It was a conference call that he held with members of the Central Conference of American Rabbis. Okay, I didn’t really get to have a conversation with the President. I got to listen to the President. About 500 of my colleagues and I. In this one-way conversation, the President asked my colleagues and me to give sermons suportive of his healthcare reform initiative on the evening of Rosh Hashanah when we would have a tremendous audience.
Now, one does not say no to the President of the United States and Leader of the Free World lightly, no matter what party one belongs to. And I know that healthcare reform is a big issue. The President has made it the center of his domestic agenda. We tried to deal with it in a calm manner here last week. The issue has become a lightning rod for Americans’ feelings – positive or negative – about President Obama and his administration. But I have to tell you, I’m just not of a mind to talk to you about healthcare reform tonight. Yes, I think it’s important. But tonight I want to speak about something that I think is far more important.
I want to talk about music.
As many of you know, I love music. And I’m not alone in that. I know that many of you not only love music, but find that the music we add to our services here at Temple Beit Torah is a major draw and enhancement to our services. So many of you have commented to me that you particularly anticipate the High Holy Days here because you feel uplifted by the music by Kim, Abe and our High Holy Days choir. Most of us agree that music has the potential not only to soothe but to elevate and to inspire.
But if you come to Shabbat services regularly, you know that music is important to us all year round – not just at the High Holy Days. Sometimes we have homegrown musicians who support me on the bimah here. Sometimes I bring my ukulele and add my own musical touches to the services. You’ve been very patient with me when at times, I’ve incorporated unexpected music into the service. I got a few chuckles when I sang the old Beatles’ song Revolution from the bimah last year. I got perhaps more chuckles when I sang Bobby McFarrin’s song Don’t Worry, Be Happy. I sure hope that in both cases, when the mirth died down you thought that the songs I’d chosen helped me to make important points in my lessons on those occasions.
Music is truly, as it has been said, ‘The Soundtrack of Our Lives.’ If you’re like me, some of your fondest memories are not only of special milestone events in your lives, but also the songs you were hearing at the time. The changing tastes in popular music certainly help us to mark the passage of time. When I was a teenager, I looked upon my parents’ pre-occupation with Big Band Music as emblematic of their being stuck in the music of their youth, during the era of World War Two. Baby Boomers somewhat older than me who were stuck on 50’s-60’s hits being played on ‘Golden Oldies’ stations during the 70’s and 80’s. I thought they were ruing their arrival into their 30’s and beginning to feel their lost youth. How surprising then, when a few years ago I happened to be listening to a station that was playing the song Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. While the song was playing, I thought to myself: ‘Now there’s a song! They don’t write songs like that anymore.’ And then at the end of the song the DJ burst my bubble when he identified the station with its call letters, adding (this was in Germany): ‘Alles Oldies, alle zeit.’
Yes, I’ve always loved music and always loved having music playing as I went about the routines of my life. And if asked what kind of music I preferred, I would always tell people: ‘Anything but two types of music: Country…and Western.’
Yes, I’ve always had the sophisticated East-coaster’s contempt for the Country Music genre. This type of music associated with Nashville, with it’s twanging guitars and drawling voices, was always my punishment when I took a road trip anywhere west of the Atlantic Seaboard. When driving across the Great Heartland, that vast Flyover Country, one had better have lots of cassette tapes, and later CD’s, and later, one’s iPod or a satellite receiver to listen to. Because otherwise, one might be stuck eating up the miles while listening to Country Music.
Even when I was stationed in West Texas years ago, I never lost this tendency to look down my nose at Country music. Even though I would go to country dances on an occasional Saturday night, shuffling around the floor to the Cotton Eyed Joe, I would never so much as tune in a Country station in my car or at home.
My younger sister Lisa has been employed in radio for many years as a DJ. She’s now Programming Director for her station, but she still does a daily stint in the broadcast booth. At the beginning of her career she worked in a number of musical formats. But early on she settled for Country and hasn’t had a desire to move on to other formats since. I used to tease her about it. A Jewish girl from Miami Beach as a country DJ??! When I had occasion to listen to her on the air, I realized to my horror that she was developing a Southern Drawl as part of her on-air persona. A long time ago I asked her why she’d ‘gone Country.’ She explained it to me: ‘It’s more fun than working in other formats, because the listeners get involved and come out to talk to the DJ’s when they’re on remotes and at concerts, and the DJ feels much more interaction with the public.’ This explanation made enough sense. I suppose that, if one is going to be a minor local celebrity, one might as well have a following.
A few years ago in 2005, I was on leave from Germany to bury our father. I was driving to my brother’s house to make some of the funeral arrangements and, in the car I listened to my sister’s radio show. She played three songs in a row that had discernable spiritual overtones. I later kidded her that, her outward stoicism notwithstanding, it was clear that she was missing our father. But she told me otherwise: ‘That’s just Country Music since 9-11, Don; it’s become very spiritual.’
I guess it shouldn’t have been a big surprise to me; as I pointed out in my sermon last week, I think we were all hit in the solar plexus and profoundly changed after 9-11. This, even if we seem to have developed collective ADD about it since.
So I gave Country Music another look, and (believe it or not) I liked what I saw and heard. I liked that the lyrics of so many songs seemed to speak to everyman’s angst and frustrations. I liked that the lyrics were so easy to hear through the instrumental tracks and that I could easily sing along…even without a Southern Drawl. I liked the spiritual overtones to many of the songs, the message that hard work, loving with a full heart and a little bit of faith in oneself and in G-d can go far in enabling us to overcome whatever challenges we face. There is really very little difference between that message and the one that has been central to my rabbinate. Take away, or overlook a few specifically Christian references in some of the songs, and they resonate very strongly with me.
But it’s not just the lyrics or the songs’ listen-ability; it’s also the artists and their attitudes. When Operation Iraqi Freedom kicked off, so many Hollywood and music celebrities seemed to make second careers of criticizing their country and her leadership. Of course, that's part of being an American - we have the incredibly precious freedom to speak out on any issue. It's not 'just politics,' it's what we are as a nation.
But just as a contrast, what was the overwhelming response to the war by Country Music artists? In the main, it was entirely non-political. They lined up to volunteer to go on tour in the war zones and other overseas locations where our troops are stationed, to entertain the troops and let them know how much they were appreciated. A group of Nashville artists established and funded ‘America Supports You’ an organization to provide some support to the families of military personnel sent overseas. I’ve got to tell you, one performance of the Charlie Daniels Band for the troops in Iraq is worth more than a lifetime’s worth of political rants, whatever the ranter's political slant.
So I’ve undergone a conversion of sorts. And for the first time in my life I’ve listened to some of these songs and thought: Yes! That speaks to my heart!
And now I’d like to share a song with you. It’s not a new one. It happens to be one of those songs I heard my sister play on the radio on that day back in 2005. It’s sung by an artist named Tim McGraw, and it’s called Live Like You Were Dying. Listen to its lyrics and see if it speaks to you as it does to me.
He said: "I was in my early forties,
"With a lot of life before me,
"An' a moment came that stopped me on a dime.
"I spent most of the next days,
"Looking at the x-rays,
"An' talking 'bout the options an' talkin’ ‘bout sweet time."
I asked him when it sank in,
That this might really be the real end?
How’s it hit you when you get that kind of news?
Man whatcha do?
An' he said: "I went sky diving, I went rocky mountain climbing,
"I went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu.
"And I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter,
"And I gave forgiveness I'd been denying."
An' he said: "Some day, I hope you get the chance,
"To live like you were dyin'."
He said "I was finally the husband,
"That most of the time I wasn’t.
"An' I became a friend a friend would like to have.
"And all of a sudden goin' fishin’,
"Wasn’t such an imposition,
"And I went three times that year I lost my Dad.
"Well, I finally read the Good Book,
"And I took a good long hard look,
"At what I'd do if I could do it all again,
"And then:
"I went sky diving, I went rocky mountain climbing,
"I went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu.
"And I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter,
"And I gave forgiveness I'd been denying."
An' he said: "Some day, I hope you get the chance,
"To live like you were dyin'."
Like tomorrow was a gift,
And you got eternity,
To think about what you’d do with it.
An' what did you do with it?
An' what can I do with it?
An' what would I do with it?
"Sky diving, I went rocky mountain climbing,
"I went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu.
"And then I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter,
"And I watched Blue Eagle as it was flyin'."
An' he said: "Some day, I hope you get the chance,
"To live like you were dyin'."
"To live like you were dyin'."
"To live like you were dyin'."
"To live like you were dyin'."
"To live like you were dyin'."
Wow! Those are powerful words. And while I have never been in such a position, I know many others who have. So I understand his point: that we take time – having all the time to get around to the things we want to do and those we need to do – for granted.
Really, I could stop here and let the words of this song speak for themselves. But of course that’s not the nature of rabbis, right? So let me add just a few thoughts:
The message of this song is that you don’t have to wait to be told, G-d forbid, that you have only a few more months to live to make every moment count. No, even if you believe you’ve got a long life ahead of you, you can decide to treat every day as a gift from G-d and thus make the most of it.
You’ll notice that the voice in the song took the news about his imminent death and did two kinds of things. First, he engaged in a few high-thrill activities that he’d apparently been itching to try. Second, he turned himself around in his approach to human relations, trying to do the things that he’d long known he had to do: he loved deeper and he spoke sweeter and he gave forgiveness he’d been denying.
Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur serve to remind us of our mortality. Even if you’re young, the marathon that begins today challenges us to look inward and then, in ten days from now will make us feel as if we’re dying – it should affect us like the words of this song and wake us out of our torpor, out of our self-satisfaction, out of our mindset that all is well and we have plenty of time to do the things we need to do. It should wake us up to the pull of time, and remind us that our time on earth is finite and that the time to get on with life is right now.
No I say these words with some trepidation. Someone in this room will think I’m telling them not to plan for tomorrow, not to save money, not to make repairs on their house. Someone will think I’m telling them to give up on a difficult marriage, to enjoy the thrill of an affair…whatever. Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die, right? Wrong.
All I’m saying is, that we should not live lives of self-denial, or of procrastination on the understanding that we’ve always got plenty of time left. There’s no time like right now for the things you desire…for the things you need.
Last year I told you that the key to happiness is to take all the disappointments in life, to take all the slights you felt subject to, to take all the wrongs you felt had been done to you and, what? Get over it! I know that my words resonated with you, because many of you have repeated my words time and again and told me how they helped you to overcome things that would have otherwise dragged you down. Someone in this room even went so far as to suggest that I establish a website with the URL: ‘get over it dot org.’ And I was thinking very seriously about doing just that, of establishing such a website as a place for people to share their own stories about how by getting over it they were able to put unpleasant experiences behind them and reach for greater things.
There’s only one problem; the domain name has already been taken, by a dog training club of all things! So of course I looked at ‘get over it dot com’ and that, along with ‘get over it dot net’ were also not available! So please stand by for Plan B on that.
But if Get Over It was a phrase that resonated with you last year and since then, I propose another phrase to think about this year. A phrase to dig up whenever you feel frustrated at your inability to find the time, to find the energy to get on with the things you want to do or the things you must do. And that phrase is: Live Like You Were Dying. Never mind if it’s not the most grammatically correct, or the most elegant way to state the proposition. It’s catchy, and catchy is important. Put it in your subconscious and reach for it when it will help.
Don’t feel like forgiving someone who has wronged you? Live like you were dying. Can’t find the time to spend with your kids? Live like you were dying. Can’t seem to get in a romantic mood for your spouse? Live like you were dying. See how this little phrase can change everything? When we consider that our time is not unlimited, we can find the motivation to do all kinds of things.
It’s one thing to decide what we want to do in the coming year. But it’s another thing entirely to actually make it happen. Are there things that you’ve resolved to do in past years, but never seem to have actually gotten around to them? My friends: Live Like You Were Dying.
(You can hear the song here.)
Love Like Crazy
Don Levy
Rosh Hashanah Morning 5770
Last night, as you remember, I announced that, of all the subjects about which I could have spoken at one of the two best-attended services of the year, I wanted to talk about music. I then surprised – and perhaps even shocked – many of you by playing a recording of a Country song that has been popular since 2005. Of course, those of you who see the Method to my Madness realized immediately that I wasn’t really talking about music at all. Rather, I used a song that many of you have already heard, as a teaching vehicle. My lesson was that we risk un-fulfillment and unhappiness when we put off things we want to do, and things we need to do.
In the former category are the little recreational pursuits that give us little joys as we go through life. For the singer in the song I played, those were sky diving, Rocky Mountain climbing, and riding a bull. In the latter category are the deeper things, the things that enable us to forge the lasting and satisfying relationships that help us to achieve true happiness. For the singer, and in reality for all of us, they are: loving deeper, speaking sweeter and giving forgiveness we’ve been denying. In the words of the song, we should all give ourselves the chance to: Live Like You Were Dying.
What an important message! And as I told you last night, I find very often that songs of the Country genre convey simple, yet profound messages for us. Now, I know that many of us have an automatic disdain for the Country genre. I told you last night that, having grown up on the East Coast, I had a big city dweller’s snobbery toward Country music. And many of you have shared that snobbery. Perhaps you still do. Perhaps my playing the song last night only made it worse!
Maybe the twanging guitars and the drawling voices don’t resonate with us. Maybe the sometimes-overt references to Christian faith turn us against the genre. But maybe, just maybe the impediment is that we have a tendency to want to see life as far more complicated, than the simple native wisdom of these songs tells us it is. Maybe we want to see life as being far more complicated, because it gives us an out of sorts? That is, if life is very complicated, then we need not feel bad about not mastering it? That is to say: if life is as simple to figure out as these homespun philosophies would have us believe, then our failure to grasp it and overcome…becomes far less forgivable?
I have to say that I don’t know. As a rabbi the biggest part of my ‘business,’ if you will, is unhappiness. People don’t come to talk to the rabbi when things are going well, or when they’re feeling happy. So I’ve had a chance to listen to many people sit and talk about their shattered lives. And I have to say that many of them over-complicate their lives and their issues. But most of life’s issues are, frankly, uncomplicated in the extreme. We prize intelligence and learning, as well we should. But intelligence isn’t wisdom. And, if we stop being the intellectual snobs that we sometimes tend to be, we’ll find that the most profound wisdom comes from simple, unlettered sources.
And my message this morning is, I think, very profound. Some of you will be dismayed – and some delighted – that I draw it from yet another Country song. In this case it’s a new release, one that isn’t even out on a CD yet but which has been receiving quite a bit of play by our local Country station. Fortunately, I have an inside track into Country radio; my sister sent me the MP3 of the song I’m now going to play for you. The first time I heard it on the radio was just a couple of weeks ago; and when I heard it I had an Aha! moment: this was something to share with my congregation on Rosh Hashanah! So here it is, from the artist Lee Brice:
They called them crazy when they started out
Said 17’s to young to know what love’s about
They've been together 58 years now
That’s crazy
He brought home 67 bucks a week
Bought a little two bedroom house on maple street
Where she blessed him with 6 more mouths to feed
That’s crazy
Just ask him how he did it
He'll say Pull up a seat it'll only take a minute to tell you everything
(chorus)
Be a best friend
Tell the truth
And over use ‘I love you’
Go to work
Do your best
Don’t out smart your common sense
Never let your prayin knees get lazy
And love like crazy
They called him crazy when he quit his job
Sellin’ home computers boy they'll never take off
Well he sold his one man shop to Microsoft
And they paid like crazy
Just ask him how he made it
He'll tell you faith and sweat
And the heart of a faithful woman who never let him forget
(chorus)
Be a best friend
Tell the truth
And over use ‘I love you’
Go to work
Do your best
Don’t out smart your common sense
Never let your prayin knees get lazy
And love like crazy
Always treat your woman like a lady
Never get to old to call her baby
Never let your prayin knees get lazy
And love like crazy
They called them crazy when they started out
They've been together 58 years now
Ain’t that crazy
Now, I know what you’re thinking right now! Rabbi, are you trying to tell my kids to run off and get married at 17…and to have six kids??! Of course not…well, at least the part about getting married at 17. As far as having six kids, what would be so bad about that??! If my two kids gave me a dozen grandchildren between them…halvai!
But, that’s not the message I’d like you and your kids to take away from this song. Rather, it is that a few very basic, well-tried and proven values can take us far. Be a best friend. Tell the truth. Keep repeating ‘I love you’ to your partner. Go to work. Do your best. Don’t forget to rely on common sense. Pray hard – that is, don’t neglect the spiritual side of life. And when all else fails, Love Like Crazy. Yes, Loving Like Crazy can get us past a lot of hardships in life.
Although my kids sometimes accuse me of being so old that I have no clear memories of what it was like to be a teenager, there’s no truth to the accusation. And I know that, for many of you who are into – and even beyond – that stage in life that we call ‘middle age,’ you still remember vividly your teenage years. I don’t remember them as a particularly happy time. I remember them as a time filled with angst about my future, about my awkwardness with the opposite sex, about the oppressiveness of all the important decisions I suddenly had to make. If we’re honest and stop idealizing our teenage years, we can have a lot more sympathy for our teens today.
One thing I remember vividly from my teenage years was my determination to out-earn my parents in adulthood. There’s nothing wrong with that. Each generation wants to surpass its predecessor in important ways. And my parents were of modest means economically. So of course, one of my dreams in life was to do better than them in that area. So I based a lot of my planning, a lot of my scheming on that premise. I hear my kids doing the same thing today. It’s not something to discourage. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to have a better life materially. I pray that they will achieve it.
The only objection I have, and I have no compunction about lecturing my kids to this effect, is that when material success is one’s primary focus in life one is setting oneself up for severe disappointment. Even if one does achieve it, it ends up not being enough. So that brings us back to the really important things in life.
Be a Best Friend.
Tell the truth.
Overuse ‘I Love You.’
Go to work.
Do your best.
Don’t outsmart your common sense.
Never let your praying knees get lazy.
Love like crazy.
There is a rather sarcastic saying: ‘He who ends the game with the most toys, wins.’ But friends, true wisdom points out that nobody on their deathbed ever said: ‘I wish I’d spent more time at the office. I wish I’d achieved more financial success.’ No, if we regret anything at the end of our lives, it is usually that we didn’t love enough. We didn’t make enough time for our spouse and our kids. We didn’t cultivate our friendships enough. We didn’t focus enough on the eternal. We didn’t Love Like Crazy.
On this day therefore, on this day when we celebrate new beginnings and prepare ourselves to make new beginnings in our personal lives, I wish to challenge you. We in this room are in many different stages of life, but we all have something in common. And that is, each of us can improve our lives in the next year if we’ll follow the advice of the song. If we’ll stick to the tried and true values. If we’ll Love Like Crazy.
As we leave this place today we’ll have some opportunity to spend time thinking about the messages of Rosh Hashanah over the coming days in our journey to and through Yom Kippur. When we re-convene here a week from tomorrow, let’s be ready for a good ‘sealing’ of our lives in the year to come. Let’s resolve in the next days to focus on what’s important. Let’s find it within ourselves to Love Like Crazy.
(You can hear the song here.)