Category Archives: Machshava/Jewish Thought

The Jewish Vote

There was an extraordinary reaction to my previous piece on the election portents for the American empire. Tens of thousands of people responded, most positively. Apparently, it struck a chord with many who fear for the future of the United States which has been the major force for good in the world for much more than a century.

One discordant note was sounded by someone, unfamiliar to me, who calls himself the “failed Moshiach,” or something like that. He demanded my immediate firing, a classic reaction on the political left to anyone who publicly deviates from their world view. His demand is not only risible, but also counterproductive, as my dismissal would only add to Obama’s sorry record on unemployment. In any event, I would be more concerned if the real Moshiach was displeased with my writings than a self-styled “failed” one.

That does beg the question: why is it that Jews overwhelmingly support the Democratic candidate? This is not something new, but has been the pattern for almost 80 years. (Late 19th century Jews voted primarily for the Republican, being especially fond of the Republican President Abraham Lincoln.) It was the late sociologist Milton Himmelfarb who decades ago noted that “Jews earn like Episcopalians and vote like Puerto Ricans,” i.e., the richest vote like the poorest. What fascinates is that, like the lure of Pennsylvania to Republican presidential candidates (it seems like it should vote for the Republican but never does), the Jewish vote tantalizes Republicans but never seems to materialize. Based on our race, status, education, employment, etc., Jews should be voting for Republicans but rarely do in significant numbers. The Jewish vote remains the chimera of the political conservative. For more than eighty years, the Jewish vote has averaged 75% for the Democrat, rarely deviating more than 5% above or below that figure. Until Hoover’s election, the Jewish vote fluctuated and was relatively balanced. The focus is not on those who can choose a candidate in either party (as I have done on occasion), but those Jews who can never vote for a Republican and always will vote for the Democrat. It cannot be that the Democrat is always the superior candidate to the Republican.

Once again in this election, almost 70% of Jews voted for President Obama, slightly down from the last election (78%), but very much in line with other immigrant communities like Hispanics (71%) or Asians (73%). But Jews are no longer a predominantly immigrant community, so why do the voting patterns of newcomers, or outsiders to the political system, persist among the Jews who are in the mainstream of the establishment? And why are the Orthodox Jewish voting patterns almost the mirror opposite of the non-Orthodox, with more Orthodox Jews voting for Mitt Romney and, give or take a particular race, for Republicans generally?

Firstly, Democrats are widely perceived as the party of the poor, the downtrodden and the societal outcast, and Jews – persecuted for most of our existence – have a natural sympathy for the underdog. As charity is a great virtue (and a fundamental commandment) in Jewish life, Jews especially are drawn to a system that appears charitable on the surface – the redistribution of income from the wealthy to the poor – and government is seen as the vehicle of that charitable distribution.

The weakness in that argument, of course, is that Jews believe in charity, but primarily as a private endeavor. The tithing obligation, or the dispensing of gifts to the poor in Biblical times (maasrot, leket, shikcha, pe’ah – known collectively as matnot aniyim, gifts to the poor), are all private ventures, and are not publicly coerced. Notwithstanding that at different times in history the Jewish community itself intervened and assessed wealthy members a sum of money to care for society’s poor, that was always considered a last resort and not particularly efficient. The king never levied taxes to care for the poor, although the religious establishment might. Charity as a private act lends moral perfection to the donor; the same cannot be said for a coercive taxation system that distributes only a small sum of the monies collected to the poor.

Of course, it would unacceptable in a Jewish context to have a permanent impoverished class – multi-generational families of welfare recipients – as it should be in an American context. The trillions of dollars spent since the Great Society initiated the War on Poverty has in fact exacerbated poverty, not alleviated it, with more poor in both real and proportionate terms today than when the programs started. It should not be difficult to ascertain why. Handouts degrade the recipient and create a dependency – call it now an entitlement – that is not easy to terminate. We know as well that the greatest form of charity under Jewish law is finding a job for someone unemployed, or lending him money so he can start his own business. For the recipient, that is both dignified and effective in the long-term, but for some reason, Jews feel better giving someone a fish than teaching him how to fish; perhaps the latter would cut into the market share of the Jewish-owned fish companies, if there were Jewish-owned fish companies. But current policies are demeaning and debilitating to the recipient, even if they satisfy the compassionate emotions of their advocates.

Secondly, Jews have been enamored with the Democratic Party since the days of FDR, who nurtured the identity politics that Barack Obama has perfected – appealing to a variety of different groups rather than to Americans as a whole. FDR won a landslide second-term victory in 1936 even though the economy worsened on his watch (higher unemployment, steep drop in earnings) because he blamed Herbert Hoover for everything (familiar ring, that) and patched together a coalition of interest groups – farmers, labor unions, Jews and women – that would be sufficient for victory.

But it is not just that FDR created the modern welfare state but that he also cultivated Jewish support. For the first time in US history, an American president surrounded himself with Jews – Frankfurter, Rosenman, Baruch, et al. An unprecedented 15% of Roosevelt’s executive appointments were Jews. That shattered the brick wall that the WASP establishment had erected around the levers of power, and forever endeared him to Jews. Of course, none of that symbolism mattered when the Holocaust came, and FDR did little to help the Jews of Europe and much to thwart immigration, rescue and relief efforts. Indeed, FDR remained a hero to most Jews notwithstanding his pathetic record on Jewish issues – even famously refusing to meet a delegation of Rabbis who came to plead for assistance to the beleaguered European Jews being systematically exterminated by the Nazis.

That disconnect – between rhetoric and reality – has persisted until today. Truman was rightly lauded for recognizing the nascent State of Israel in 1948 – after much hesitation – but Thomas E. Dewey was on record even before as supportive of Jewish national rights. JFK openly threatened Israel over its Dimona reactor, LBJ pressured Israel not to open fire in 1967 despite the Arab provocations that led to the Six-Day War, and it is now crystal clear how Jimmy Carter felt about the Jews and about Israel. (Others too. Former Israeli diplomat Naphtali Lavie wrote in his memoirs of the stridency and harshness with which then-VP Walter Mondale – so-called “friend of Israel” – dealt with Israel before and during the Camp David summit, leading Israel’s FM Moshe Dayan to comment: “Isn’t he supposed to be a friend of Israel? With friends like him, who needs enemies.” Similar backstage accounts elsewhere expose the current VP Joe Biden as antagonistic to Israel during negotiations as well while he was a Senator.)

Conversely, presidents as diverse as Nixon, Reagan and Bush II were immensely supportive of Israel, and at critical times. That their records were not “perfect” – whose is, and how would we even define perfect? – and that we can quibble about a policy decision here and there is a cogent reminder to the American-Jewish community that these men were, after all, presidents of the United States, not prime ministers of Israel. At times, the interests of America and Israel will diverge; that is natural and understandable, and America will also produce presidents like Eisenhower or Bush I, or Obama, for that matter, who were less sympathetic to Israel, and a Clinton who tended to be more sympathetic despite some ugly moments. But Nixon made historically important decisions (e.g., the re-supply of Israel’s armaments during the worst period of the Yom Kippur War, and over Kissinger’s strong objections) and Reagan and Bush II were preternaturally well-disposed to Jews and Israel.

Nevertheless, the curious love affair between Jews and Democrats that began with FDR has not ended. Today, it is trapped in a time warp. Jews contort themselves like pretzels to try to pretend that today’s Democrat party is the same as the party of yesteryear. But today’s Democrats head governments in which funds are handed down not to assist people short-term but to sew up their votes long-term, in which the inclusion in the party platform of Jerusalem as Israel’s capital and G-d Himself was roundly booed, and about which polls widely show that support for Israel among Democrats is well below 50% and among Republicans well over 70%. Facts are stubborn things.

That engenders the third reason why Jews remain tenacious Democratic voters. The dark secret is that few Jewish Democrats vote with Israel as their main concern, or even as a major interest. As long as the rhetoric is innocuous enough, the real policies do not matter. There is also a segment of the Jewish community that, by reasonable standards, can be construed as anti-Israel. They make common cause with Israel’s enemies, support boycott of and divestment from Israel, oppose Jewish settlement in the heartland of Israel and favor the establishment of another Palestinian state, and/or are openly hostile to Israel exercising its right of self-defense – ever, under any circumstances. Some Jews even oppose the Jewish national idea, and think Israel itself is illegitimate. The one common denominator is that all those Jews vote for the Democratic Party. They are not the only Jews who vote for the Democrat, but all those Jews do vote for the Democrat.

Thus, the fourth reason why most Jews are Democrats – since Israel’s fate is of tangential interest to many – is that they are more aroused by the social agenda than by any other concern, including Israel. Many Jews are obsessed with abortion rights, and see it as a sacrament. They are fanatics about individual rights and freedoms, and loathe any constraints on personal behavior (even the Torah’s!) Jews, in fact, seem uniquely intimidated by the contrived threats to these newfound freedoms.  And they are in the forefront of transforming traditional society – supporting same-sex marriage, alternative lifestyles, and the abolition of any notion of objective morality. Strange, one might think, because Jews introduced to the world the concept of objective moral norms transmitted to us by the Creator of the universe.

But most Jews are widely estranged from their faith – fifth reason – and do not perceive their Judaism as shaping or influencing their world view, except insofar as they distort the Torah’s values and ideas and assume they correspond to the NY Times editorial page. Most can speak of Jewish values only in the most amorphous terms – and perceive as uniquely Jewish the platitudes (“be a good person!”) that are common to every religion. Most have limited exposure to Torah. That is why the Orthodox voting patterns are almost the complete opposite of the non-Orthodox. The closer one is to tradition, the more one will gravitate to conservative ideals. That there are exceptions, of course, only proves the rule.

A sixth reason bores into the credibility of the statistics, and raises the great enigma of Jewish life today: how many Jews actually live in the United States? The survey questions are asked with trepidation, because a large percentage of American “Jews” are not Jews according to Jewish law. As we know, a Jew is defined according to tradition as a person born of a Jewish mother or converted according to halacha, Jewish law. (The definition remains the definition despite its unpopularity, indeed, its rejection, in the non-Orthodox world. It goes without saying – but I must – that “non-Orthodox Jews” who satisfy the two criteria are as Jewish as is any Jew.)

With intermarriage in the non-Orthodox world hovering around 70%, how many of the “Jews” counted in these surveys are in fact Jews? For example, the children of non-Jewish mothers are not Jews according to Jewish law, even if they feel Jewish and were bar-mitzvahed. Likewise, the children of Jewish mothers who intermarry are Jews – but are they really representative of Jews in terms of ascertaining a “Jewish” vote – especially since most intermarried children by far are not raised as Jews, or educated as Jews? It might very well be that if we exclude hundreds of thousands of halachic non-Jews from our count as Jews, then the differences in voting patterns between Jews and other mainstream groups as revealed by the polls might not be as dramatic. Since it is difficult to count Jews in America – many pollsters rely on a self-definition which could as ethnic as it is religious – the surveys themselves are suspect. It would explain, though, why support for Israel has dwindled as a major issue for Jewish Democrats.

Finally, and sad to say, most Jews today are committed secularists who are uncomfortable with any expression of faith in the public domain. The Democratic Party is therefore their natural home, even if American history and politics have been informed by faith from the very founding of the country. The Democrats have moved on from that premise, and in their desire to transform the United States, have disconnected it from those roots.

But those roots should be attracting Jews, if they truly understood their faith. The growing trend of Jews moving to conservative ideas is reflective both of the attractions of tradition and the ongoing disappearance of the secular Jew. As yet, it is not enough to counter the allure of nostalgia for an idyllic liberal past that really never was, and will not be seen again.

The Three-Ply Cord

King Solomon stated in his wisdom “Two are better than one, for they get a greater return for their effort.” But three are even better, “for the three-ply cord is not easily severed” (Kohelet 4:9,12). The Midrash (Kohelet Raba 4) interprets this as applicable to family continuity: “R. Zi’era said that a family of scholars will produce scholars, and a family of Bnai Torah will produce Bnai Torah, and wealth will beget wealth, ‘for the three-ply cord is not easily severed.’” One sage asked: didn’t a well known family lose their wealth? To which R. Zi’era responded: “Did I say ‘the three-ply cord is never severed?’ I said “for the three-ply cord is not easily severed.”  But why should a three-ply cord – tough and durable – ever be severed?

A new unpublished study recently brought to my attention has challenging implications for the Torah world – to wit, that 50% of the graduates of Modern Orthodox high schools are no longer Shabbat or Kashrut observant within two years of their graduation. Another study from last year reported the not-quite-shocking news that 25% of those graduates who attend secular colleges assimilate during college and completely abandon Torah and mitzvot.

Those are frightening statistics that should cause us all to shudder. Perhaps the numbers are less dire than they seem on the surface. For sure, a not-insignificant percentage of students enter those high schools already lacking in Shabbat observance – their families are not observant – and they leave the same way. Other teens already fall off the derech while in high school – a more exacting study would measure their observance level at graduation and then two years later. But, undoubtedly, many slide off the path of Torah as soon as they gain a modicum of autonomy. Just as certain, there are some who return to Torah years later as well.

What are we missing? What are we lacking? What are we failing to provide them after spending hundreds of thousands of dollars per child on their Jewish education? What is going wrong? And how can it be rectified?

It needs to be stated that parents who look to blame the schools, the shuls, the youth groups, the Rabbis, the teachers, and/or the greater community are looking in the wrong place. They should start by looking in the mirror. That should be obvious, because parents have the primary obligation of educating their children – “you shall teach [these words] to your children to speak of them…” (Devarim 11:19). Even if parents delegate this task, they still remain primarily responsible. And of course, the general disclaimer always pertains in these matters: there are perfect parents whose kids go off the derech and horrendous parents (absolute scoundrels) whose children are righteous and scholarly. Even such illustrious people as Yitzchak and Rivka produced one of each – a tzadik and a scoundrel. There is no panacea, and we can only talk about the majority. There will always be exceptions.

To me, it all goes back to basics – not just what the parents say, but what parents say and do. The “chut hameshulash” – the “three-ply cord” of our world is Torah study, prayer and Shabbat – and in no particular order. Children who see their parents prioritize shul – not once or twice a week, but every day – see shul as a value. Children who see their parents attend shul once a week and primarily socialize and converse while there see shul as a place to meet their friends. When older, they can just bypass the middleman and just go straight to their friends.

Similarly, children who see parents learning Torah during their leisure time perceive learning as a value. Children whose Shabbat is different than the other days of the week – the Shabbat table is different, the conversation is laden with talk of Torah, ideas, values, and zemirot instead of idle chitchat, sports, and gossip – experience a different Shabbat. It’s just a different day. When Shabbat is not observed as a different day, it stops being a different day.

I have noticed that there are teens who simply do not daven – they will converse the whole time – and invariably they are the children of fathers who themselves don’t stop talking in shul. Children who roam the halls of the synagogue Shabbat morning are invariably the offspring of parents who roam the halls. Like father, like son.

And something else: too many teenagers have absolutely no concept of “Bigdei Shabbat” – the obligation to wear special clothing on Shabbat. I am not even referring to wearing ties and jackets, although that is clearly perceived as dignified dress in America. Many teens come to shul dressed in weekday clothing but even on the lower end of what might be called “school casual.” How do parents not impress on their children from their earliest youth with the idea of “Shabbat clothing?” That is part of what makes Shabbat different. Every child – girl or boy – should have clothing specially designated for Shabbat, ideally a jacket and tie for boys and a nice dress for girls. At age five, I put on a suit and tie for Shabbat, and never looked back. How are children allowed to leave the house on Shabbat as if it is a Sunday – whether it is to attend shul in the morning or meet their friends in the afternoon?

Are we then surprised when Shabbat for them becomes “not Shabbat”? Their whole experience of Shabbat is being told what they can’t do, incarcerated for two hours in the morning in a place where they don’t want to be, to then eat a meal that might be devoid of spiritual substance, the day salvaged only when they meet their friends who have had similar experiences. But if Shabbat is not a different day, then apparently the moment the child gains his independence, or a moment or two after that, his Shabbat becomes Saturday, which, combined with Sunday and Friday night, makes for a long, fun and enjoyable weekend. The fifteen year old who walks around the streets Shabbat afternoon in shorts and sneakers will likely not be observing Shabbat when he is twenty. But no one will make the connection then – so make it now.

“For the three-ply cord is not easily severed.” The three-ply cord of Torah, tefila and Shabbat is not easily undone. The survey is not as surprising as is the persistent reluctance to draw the obvious conclusions and instead cast a wide net looking for the suspects. George Orwell famously wrote that “to see what is in front of one’s nose needs a constant struggle.” The good news is that we need not look very far for solutions. If the parent wants the child to learn Torah, then the parent should learn Torah. If the parent wants the child to daven, then the parent should daven. If the parent wants the child to enjoy Shabbat as a holy, special day, then the parent should make Shabbat into a holy, special day.

Perhaps there is an even more important idea. The Midrash (ibid) also states: “two are better than one – that is, a man and his wife who are better than each alone, but the ‘third cord’ (that fortifies the first two) is G-d who provides them with children.”

Parents have to convey to their children beginning in infancy a sense of G-d’s immanence, a sense of the godly in life, and a Jewish identity that is rooted in the Torah that Moshe commanded us. Children should be inculcated beginning in infancy that what they do matters before G-d, and that mitzvot are not just performances but points of connection to the Creator. When parents enlist G-d in their parenting – not as the Source of all guilt and dire punishment, but as the Source of “the heritage of the congregation of Yaakov,” then “the three-ply cord is not easily severed.”  Anything can happen. There are no guarantees in life, and each person is endowed with free choice. But “the three-ply cord is not easily severed.”

We must reduce our expectations to the simple – what we want for our children, our greatest priority – is the summation of our lives: not that they should necessarily attend Columbia, Harvard or Yale, or become doctors, lawyers, rabbis, or businessmen, but rather “the sum of the matter, when all has been considered, is to fear G-d and keep His commandments…” (Kohelet 12:13). When we speak with pride not of “my son the doctor” or “my daughter the lawyer” but find our true pride in “my son the G-d-fearing Jew” and “my daughter the Shomeret Mitzvot,” then we and they will be prepared for the great era ahead, when G-d’s name will be made great and exalted before the nations.

 

Time Release

The Torah summarizes the very essence of our lives at the end of Parshat Nitzavim (Devarim 30:20): “…to love G-d, to listen to His voice and to cleave to Him, for He is your life and the length of your days…” What a magnificent statement – that requires definition. The Netziv (Rav Naphtali Zvi Yehuda Berlin) comments that to love G-d and to listen to His voice means to immerse ourselves in Torah – to toil in Torah – whereas to cleave to G-d means to support Torah – not everyone can sit and learn, but they can acquire a love and an intimate connection to G-d by supporting Torah.

And not only that – but “He is your life and the length of your days.”  What’s the difference between “your life” and “the length of your days”? Many explain that “your life” means life itself in this world and “length of days” refer to one’s quality of life. But others (the Sforno, for one) explain that “your life” means eternal life, which makes sense. “And you who cleave to G-d are all alive today” (ibid 4:4) – cleaving to G-d grants us eternal life. But what then is “length of days” in reference to eternity?

Not long ago, the Jewish world marked the shloshim of Zev Wolfson a”h. When he died, I did not know much about his remarkable life except that he was a great philanthropist of Jewish causes. One of the distinguished Rabbis in Yerushalayim eulogized him as “the pillar of loving-kindness in our generation,” just like the recently-departed Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv zt”l was the “pillar of Torah in our generation.” All this I learned in a remarkable column in the Israeli weekly Besheva (August 23, 2012 edition) that had an interesting twist to it, well-written as always by their esteemed columnist Yedidya Meir. (http://www.inn.co.il/Besheva/Article.aspx/12227)

The column framed a minimized page of obituaries from the Israeli Yated Neeman, right in the middle of the page, placed in Yated by some of the yeshivot that Zev Wolfson supported – in Beer Yaakov, in Yerushalayim – yeshivot I also never heard of. Then the article described him – his simplicity, directness, utter selflessness and dedication to the Jewish people, and especially his willingness to invest in a Jewish cause or organization if there was a plan and a definable objective. Each day he would implore everyone to do something for Klal Yisrael – the most important concern in life

He supported hundreds of organizations, and was obsessed in his later years with bridging the gap between secular Israeli youth and the Jewish people, not necessarily to bring them to observance in a traditional sense but to enhance their Jewish identity and give them a connection to the Jewish people. So, about a decade ago he started funding drop-in centers in Tel Aviv, for young people, called Nefesh Yehudi. Thousands have attended – and the columnist wrote about one of them, a young woman named Keren Svistov who worked as a planner at a major advertising firm in Tel Aviv.

Apparently, there was a buzz in Israel back in February when Keren Svistov updated her Facebook page, and columnist Meir decided to save it for a column in the month Elul. In February, she wrote on her Facebook page that “the time has come to speak about this teshuva (repentance) of mine. People keep sending me worrisome emails – ‘what’s happened to you? Are you freaking out? Such an intelligent girl. Is it because you haven’t found a husband, or because your father died of cancer?”

She was raised secular, and maintained a customary Tel Avivi lifestyle. Yet, for 3½ years, she had been learning at one center in Tel Aviv – once a week, for 4½ hours at a time. I paraphrase some selections (translation mine): “I’m touching the truth, understanding it and denying it, getting close to it and then fleeing from it. I don’t want the light to close me in. I don’t want to think my whole prior life was false. Yet, slowly, Torah enters.”

     “Where do I start? Sometimes I think my return was rational and logical, not spiritual. That my mind, trained to acquire degrees, to be analytical, sees that there must be logic in the universe – and Torah, science, our history, ending with the question: ‘why are we here? Why are we members of the Jewish people?’ And then I am told that such a repentance sounds like one is embarrassed about one’s Jewishness, which I am not. Repentance need not be purely logical.”

      “And each morning I thank G-d, for I believe I will be able to chip away some more of the shell and return to myself and to You. I gave up my immodest dress, and the cloak of sarcasm that I also wore. And sometimes it is a struggle – how do you nurture a princess when my entire essence still cries out for materialism? Pride, beauty, shopping, money, honor, and control. The instinctual drive always leads me on a more enjoyable, comfortable path… Sometimes the sins I think I had eradicated return with a vengeance. Master of the universe, what a long road it is to You! Yet another day of repentance begins.” It was posted at 2:41 AM in February 2012.

But that’s not the end of her story. This was in February. Meir filed it away for use in Elul – and then, he noticed in Yated, on that page of obituary notices for Zev Wolfson, there were engagement announcements in the upper corner of the same page –  and, lo and behold, Keren Svistov (now of Netiv Bina, a seminary in Givatayim) became engaged to be married to another Tel Avivian, Daniel Machnes, now learning at a yeshiva in Tel Aviv.

How is that for coincidence? The death of the benefactor mourned, and the lives of his beneficiaries celebrated, on the same page. Blessed is the Judge of Truth, and Mazal Tov, in the same corner.

“For He is your life and the length of your days.” G-d not only gives us eternal life but also “length of our days” What is “length of days”? The capacity to live beyond our sojourn on earth, certainly to leave behind children and families, but especially good deeds and acts of kindness that render us immortal, that continue to take effect years beyond our lifespan.

We are able to touch people in such a way that long after we are gone, they can say about us “but for him or her, my life would have been lost, or different, or unfulfilled.” We can make each day count – not only when we are alive but by doing something virtuous that will pay dividends in generations yet to come.

That we can do even if we are not multi-millionaires; and that we can try to do every day, for “He is your life and the length of your days.” Then we too will have a share in the flourishing of repentance, the national renaissance that is prophesied for the end of days; then, our enemies will tremble before us, and we will again be called “G-d’s holy nation, redeemed.”

Shana tova to all !

 

Good Enough

    My five-year old grandson Yehuda, upon returning from a day at camp, was asked perfunctorily: “How was camp today?” To which he responded: “Good enough.”

     He is wiser than most adults.

     One of the secrets to a happy life is the recognition and appreciation of things that are “good enough,” and one of the primary curses that plague man, families, communities, countries and much of civilization is the cynical dismissal of things that are not “good enough” only because they are not “perfect” – a literal fulfillment of Voltaire’s dictum that “the perfect is the enemy of the good.”

      A dominant part of our culture is the negative preoccupation with the particulars that prevent the good from being the perfect. For example, there is no perfect candidate, so campaigns that cannot focus on substance and record (think Obama) highlight arcane and bizarre minutiae about his opponent – unsuccessful investments at Bain (even after Romney left, and despite his overwhelming success), how much taxes did he pay, did Paul Ryan actually throw Granny over a cliff, etc. Romney is a classically “good enough” candidate, running against a president who has clearly – even by his own terms – been an inadequate and unsuccessful president.

     The media contribute to this travesty by incessantly paying the “Gotcha game,” the exaggeration of minor misstatements or missteps into momentous events that purportedly define the individual. But they almost never define the individual; rather, they point to his essential humanity and the mistakes to which we are all prone.

     Here in Israel, PM Netanyahu also fits the “good enough” label, attesting to his relative popularity and the collapse of all credible opposition. There are certainly quibbles that right-wingers have with many of his policies – especially the duplicity with which he has (for the most part) dealt with the settlers – but overall he has been “good enough.” There is massive building occurring throughout Israel, the economy – again, for the most part – hums along, tensions between rival sectors in society are kept on a low boil despite media attempts to agitate, and, most importantly, there is relative quiet in the streets, cities, towns and roads. The specter of Iran looms and Netanyahu has attempted to prepare the country on several fronts while pushing the diplomatic/military track. He has not withdrawn from an inch of land, nor made concessions to sign more farcical agreements with a political non-entity, and so has managed a successful second term as prime minister.

     Even more important than politics is the personal dimension of the “good enough” mandate. How many marriages disintegrate because one spouse decides to fixate on what is missing (however small) rather than value what is present? A failure to be grateful for what is “good enough” is a prime cause of the mid-life crisis. Little do people realize how good they had it until they squander it – until they discover that what looks enticing at a distance has the same (or worse) flaws up close. Again, to quote Voltaire (that Jew-hater): “Paradise on earth is where I am.” The immodesty aside, the kernel of truth is the recognition that each person creates his own ideal state – in the here and now, in his present location, together with his loved ones and community. To dream of greener pastures elsewhere is often to overlook the treasure that is before your eyes.

     Children often suffer from parents’ inflated expectations for them or attempt by parents to re-live their own lives vicariously, and to everyone’s detriment. Some children never recover and foolishly choose to live their lives in anger, seeking vengeance against their parents through destructive, anti-social acts (ironically confirming their parents’ low opinion of them). Others take a different route; Winston Churchill, as a young adult, was told by his father that he had been a “constant disappointment” in every aspect of his life. Lord Randolph Churchill died relatively young, and Churchill was intent on proving his father – whom he admired – wrong. He did, but Churchill’s approach is probably less common among today’s youth. Children are also allowed to be “good enough,” to make their own mistakes and grow from them. Perfection is impossible, so why be distressed by slight imperfections?

     Life becomes more enjoyable when we embrace the “good enough” model. Vacations are more pleasurable, meals in restaurants taste better, and even the rabbi’s sermons become more than tolerable. The search for the negative – what he didn’t say, what wasn’t served to perfection, the flaw in every individual – is debilitating. I’ve noticed how even the most favorable book reviews have to throw in a criticism – font too small, index not detailed enough, the wrong year was cited for a certain event – as if to say, “it’s a great book, but don’t for a moment think it is perfect. This is how it is not perfect.” Well, no one assumes that anything is perfect, and all the nitpicking does is reflect poorly on the reviewer (and/or demonstrate that he actually read the book).

     Many of the critics of the extravagant Daf Yomi siyum in New Jersey were similarly afflicted, falling over themselves in harping on this speaker, that non-speaker or non-invitee – and completely overlooking the essence: a celebration of Torah study for all Jews by almost 100,000 Jews gathered in one setting, an affirmation about what is most precious in Jewish life and what makes us unique. Of course, no commemoration could satisfy everyone or fully satisfy anyone, but what is was is far more noteworthy than what it lacked. That is what should have been reported and emphasized, if we haven’t grown too accustomed to reveling in the blemishes.

     Some might argue that the acceptance of “good enough” is tantamount to enshrining mediocrity as a desideratum in life. Far from it. Mediocrity is complacency with failure, while the life properly lived always involves striving for greater perfection, for constant improvement even if perfection will never be achieved. The real difference between the virtue of “good enough” and the vice of mediocrity is how we handle the intermediate stage. The former appreciates the current situation, and even if he hopes to improve it, he does not rail against the deficiencies even if they are not rectified. He has a concept of the “perfect,” as the standard, but is grateful for the reality he has now. Conversely, the mediocre does not idealize the perfect, and is content with the commonplace; he sees no need to push himself, and perhaps even discounts the value of success.

    Worse than both is the person who cannot appreciate what he has – what he has been granted – because he is consumed by what he doesn’t have or what others have. For him, nothing is ever “good enough,” and that unhappiness is a heavy burden that is mostly borne by those closest to him.

     Sometimes things are bad and unacceptable and require transformation. But usually things are “good enough” and might benefit from tinkering at the edges. The tinkering can improve our lives but should not detract from the fundamental goodness (and acceptability) of our blessings.

     The Creator looked at His world as active creation ended, and pronounced it not perfect – but “very good” (Breisheet1:31). It certainly was good enough – for man to be challenged to continue G-d’s work and perfect the world, generation after generation.     

     That should be our paradigm for life as well. The realization that what is “good enough” is actually “very good” indeed makes for happier people and more fulfilling lives, with individuals, families, homes and communities in which the byword is gratitude for all our blessings.