Showing Up

R. Yaakov Bieler

שמיני עצרת תש"ע

 

            King Solomon enunciates his myriad frustrations in Megillat Kohelet, read each year during Sukkot. One verse that epitomizes his realization that personal success cannot be achieved by means of the endowments that are conventionally thought to bring about significant accomplishment appears in Chapter 9:

 

Kohelet 9:11

I sat and saw under the sun that the race is not to the swift, and the war is not to the mighty, and also the wise do not have bread, and riches do not come to those who understand, and grace is not the entitlement of the knowledgeable, because time and calamity will affect all of them.

 

It would appear from Kohelet that he either  personally possessed many of the qualities listed in the verse or observed them in others, and found by first- or second-hand experience over the course of his life that however one may be endowed, such excellences assure neither success nor happiness.

 

            But does that mean that success is completely random and coincidental, lying outside of the cause-and-effect framework by which we are accustomed to think about life?[1] Several versions of a quote attributed to Woody Allen suggest a different quality that positions one to maximize potential for accomplishment: On the one hand, there are those who say that the original statement was:

 

Eighty percent of success is showing up.[2]

 

Such a sentiment seems to assume that in order for an individual to be able to achieve

outstanding results, to be available for any opportunity that might suddenly present itself, to be considered someone who is reliable and dedicated to the job or challenge, then s/he has to “be there”. A logical extension of this idea is that not only must a person be present, but he must also strive to arrive on time as well as remain until a session’s conclusion so that he makes himself available from beginning to end during a time frame that can prove pivotal in his efforts to become successful.[3]    

 

       But there is an alternative version of Allen’s witty epigram, one that suggests something much more existential and fundamental:

 

       Showing up is eighty percent of life[4]

 

or even more sweepingly,

 

      Ninety percent of life is just showing up.[5]

 

This latter formulation engendered the following additional reflection by a thoughtful commentator:

           

            Of the remaining ten per cent, five per cent is getting started, one per cent is following the directions, and three per cent is finishing. The remaining one per     cent of life is a mystery.[6]

 

On the one hand, to acknowledge that some aspects of life are mysterious and unknowable—is it only one percent?—is a profoundly Jewish concept. Not only is the entire book of Job devoted to an exploration of how what happens to us is essentially beyond our abilities of understanding, even the giving of the Tora to Moshe is viewed as simultaneously demonstrating God’s Desire for man to know and understand at least certain parts of the Creation as well as HaShem’s Will, and the specter of that which man cannot know:

 

Rosh HaShana 21b

…Fifty Gates of Understanding were Created for the World and all were given to Moshe except for one, as it is said, (Tehillim 8:6) “And You have Made him a little less than ‘Elokim’[7]…”

 

Consequently, whatever we attempt to understand, whether it is an issue in Tora or in life, there is an assumption that man must be sufficiently humble, in the sense of intellectual humility, to realize that while God may Comprehend everything, man by definition cannot and will not.[8]

 

            But more fundamentally with respect to equating “life” with “showing up”, these last two iterations of Allen’s  comment beg the question of when it comes to “life”, what is considered “showing up” and, for that matter, “not showing up”? In what way ought one to be “present and accounted for” in order to be considered fully and meaningfully alive? Is there a suggestion that someone who may be physically present, albeit mentally and emotionally “out to lunch”, is less than “alive”?[9] It seems to me that “Showing up” connotes bringing all of one’s faculties to bear on whatever one is doing, being alert and sensitive to all that goes on around one. I believe that it further suggests actively participating in life, looking for opportunities whereby one can constructively contribute to one’s community and society. Whereas if we limit what we are discussing to “success”, it might simply reflect the need to attend settings to which one is invited in a timely and reliable manner as part of an admirable work ethic, “showing up for life” suggests searching out or even inventing opportunities which will prove more fulfilling and meaningful than what may be doing presently.[10]  Furthermore, “showing up” is associated in my mind with a certain open-mindedness and readiness to learn and even change one’s opinions if necessary—in other words, being a life-long learner not only entails the quantity of time that one devotes to exploring ideas and the Creation, but is the means by which one can be more alive qualitatively as well.  

 

            I was thinking about Woody Allen’s quote in light of a specific verb in general and verb form in particular that appears three times in the Tora regarding the Yom Tov experience associated specifically with the Pilgrimage festivals, Pesach, Shavuot and Sukkot:

 

Shemot 23:17

Three times per year “Yeira’eh” (there will be seen) all of your men “El” before the Face of the Lord God.

 

Ibid., 34:23

Three times per year “Yeira’eh” (there will be seen) all of your men “Et” the Face of the Lord God, Diety of Israel.

 

Devarim 16:16

Three times per year “Yeira’eh” (there will be seen) all of your men “Et” the Face of the Lord God in the place that He will Choose, on the festivals of Matzot (Pesach), Shavuot and Sukkot, and he will not “Yeira’eh” empty handed.

 

            While some Diaspora Jews, particularly those living in Europe where the distance, time and cost required to travel to Israel are more reasonable, make the effort and personal sacrifice to go to Jerusalem for each Yom Tov, most of us, who have not as yet made the decision to “make” Aliya, fulfill our obligation as best we can by “showing up” in our synagogues during Yom Tov.[11] The Talmud even provides a justification for why during those historical periods when we lack a great Temple in Jerusalem, our synagogues are to be viewed as the next best thing:

 

Megilla 29a

(Yechezkel 11:16 “…And I will be to them a ‘Mikdash Me’at’ [a minor Temple][12]…)

Said R. Yitzchak: These are the synagogues and houses of (Tora) study in Babylonia.[13]

 

When one comes to the synagogue on Yom Tov, in addition to the element of “being seen” or “standing up and being counted”, there is also the experience of “seeing” fellow congregants, as well as the special Yom Tov rituals that can only take place in the presence of a Minyan.[14]  The dialectic of “seeing” and “being seen” is reflected in the Rabbinic commentary on the verses in Shemot and Devarim listed above:

 

Chagiga 2a

It is taught: R. Yochanan ben Devai said in the name of R. Yehuda, “Someone who is blind in one of his eyes is exempt from the Mitzva of “Re’iya” (going to Jerusalem 3x/yr), since it says, “Yireh (will see) /Yeira’eh” (will be seen). In the same manner that one comes to see (with full sight), only in such a state is one to be seen. Just like seeing is fully done with both eyes, so also this defines those who are obligated to be seen.”

 

The Talmud in effect is interpreting both the manner in which the word is written (Yireh-he will see) as well as the way it is to be enunciated (Yeira’eh-he will be seen) as simultaneously in play. Although we usually follow the way the word is read in the event that the two interpretations contradict one another (see Sanhedrin 4a-b for examples), when both interpretations can be maintained, then we are expected to combine them and act in accordance with each. Tora Temima on Shemot 23:17 #118 adds that the impetus to incorporate both readings in one’s practice is strengthened by the interchange of “Et” (indicating a direct object, supporting the “Yireh” reading) and “El” (the preposition “to”, “before”, which is in keeping with the “Yeira’eh” reading.) The fact that the initial phrases in the verses are virtually identical except for this subtle difference lends credence to the hypothesis that it was always Divinely intended that  both readings be incorporated into our practice.

 

            Being seen and seeing in the synagogue on Yom Tov can be understood to operate on a number of different levels. The straightforward meaning of the verses is that we are to believe that we are appearing before God, Who is scrutinizing us. Although one is expected to constantly have a sense that he is standing before God and acting accordingly, as in Tehillim 16:8 “I will place God before me always…”, it is customarily assumed that a more acute sense of the Divine Presence will be perceived within the synagogue. Midrash Rabba enigmatically presents the idea as follows:

 

BaMidbar Rabba 12:3

(Tehillim 91:1 “The One On High Sits in secret…”)

…The Holy One, Blessed Be He, sits in the secret recesses of the world. He Sees everything, and is not seen…

 

            Yet we do “see God”, at least indirectly, in the sense that by coming together, experiencing communal prayer directed to HaShem, even receiving HaShem’s Blessing by virtue of the Priestly Blessings, we sense, even if it is not visually, that we have been close to God.

 

Additionally, just being together with many other people, engenders a sense of wonder and amazement at God’s Creativity and Power:

 

Berachot 58a

The Rabbis taught: One who sees a great number of Jews, he should declare, “Blessed is He, the Master of secrets” because their attitudes and opinions are not identical and their faces are not identical.

 

Perhaps this is the point of the verses describing the Mitzva of HaKhel that took place once every seven years, within the precincts of the Temple:

 

Devarim 31:12

Gather together the people, the men, women and small children, as well as the sojourner in your gates, in order that they will hear and learn and fear the Lord, your God, and they will observe to do all of the words of this Tora.

 

Being proximate to God, listening to the public Tora reading, and just looking at God’s Creation helps an individual internalize God’s Presence to the point where he keeps a sense of that Presence with him everywhere and at all times. Not only participating in daily communal prayer services that take place in synagogues and study halls, but also the more intense experiences of Shabbat and Yom Tov all contribute to achieving an almost palpable sense of God’s immanence to us.

 

             A second dimension of seeing and being seen relates to our fellow man. On the one hand, when together with others, we have great opportunities to achieve Kiddush HaShem (the Sanctification of God’s Name) and hopefully avoid Chillul HaShem (desecration of the same, God Forbid.) Obviously if one would keep to himself, there would be less chance for Chillul HaShem, but then when would we be able to demonstrate to others God’s and Judaism’s greatness? Yoma 86a interprets Devarim 6:5 “And you will love the Lord, your God” as “You will make the Lord your God Beloved in the eyes of others.” Loving God one can do by himself; making others love Him can only be done communally, in public. Since we do not always have an accurate sense of how we are coming across to others, it is important that when we are together, we strive to make the best possible impression not only for our own sakes, but also for all that each of us hopefully represents. Robert Burns stated this concern as follows:

 

O was some Pow’r the giftie gie us

To see oursels as others see us!

It wad frae mony a blunder free us,

And foolish notion.[15]

 

The converse of by our seeing others in the synagogue on Yom Tov we become influenced for the good, is also true. We are capable of inspiring one another by example, and this is as true of the observer as it is of the observed. At the end of a service, it is a fair question to ask: What have I learned from others over the course of the time that we have been together—how careful must one be when one lains? How politely and considerately have I been treated by others? How impressed was I by the relationship that I observed between that parent and child, congregant and guest?

 

            Finally, a seeing/being seen duality takes place with regard to ourselves. We should try from time to time to make detached observations about how we are going about our religious activities and reflect upon what this says about us and what it is that we should perhaps strive for. During the work week, most of us don’t have time to reflect upon such matters, but that is not true on Shabbat and Yom Tov, particularly when we are in the synagogue. I believe that a significant portion of the synagogue experience should be devoted to reflection and introspection about what we are and what we would like to become. It is at least partially for this reason that conversation in shul should be held to a minimum. It is easier to engage in such lofty contemplations in a relatively quiet setting than one that is noisy and replete with distractions. No one is rushing us on these days. Now is when we can reach important conclusions about our spiritual state and what must be done to improve it.

 

            R. Jonathan Sacks suggests a literal synergy between our external actions and the values that we internalize:

 

Most texts of the Haggada reproduce the language of the Mishna: In every generation each individual should see (Lir’ot) himself as if he personally left Egypt. Maimonides, however, writes that each individual should show (LeHar’ot) himself as if he left. This is because Maimonides holds that there are two separate Commandments of reciting the Haggada: 1) To tell hourselves the story, 2) To tell our children the story. Seeing is part of the first Mitzva, showing is part of the second. For us to feel the full impact of the drama, we have to internalize it. For us to show it to others, we must externalize it by, for example, reclining as we drink the wine. In general Judaism reverses the usual order of emotion and action. In other cultures feeling leads to doing. In Judaism doing leads to feeling. We are commanded to act in certain ways in order eventually to feel in certain ways. Thus, showing our freedom to others is one of the best ways of coming to see it ourselves.[16]

 

            While the Seder may serve as the paradigm for seeing/showing, why should this interrelationship exist exclusively with respect to the first and second nights of Pesach? Whatever we do throughout the year in terms of religious observance, we would benefit greatly if we simultaneously consider why we are doing it, and attempt to make the idea not only part of our external behavior but also our internal value system, in effect striving to achieve “Tocho KeBoro” (his inside is like his outside.)[17]

 

            So once we “show up”, look around us in order to hopefully observe evidence of God’s Presence, inspiring role models, and even a sense of personal perspective, and at the same time attempt to make positive impressions upon those with whom we are sharing the experience to do the same, we can achieve the type of religious “success” as well as meaningful “life” that would go far to dispel Kohelet’s sense of malaise.

 



[1] R. Yitzchak in Megilla 6b at least attributes financial success to “Mazal”, i.e., serendipity, in contrast to becoming learned, which he posits is directly related to effort and talent.

[2] Simpson's Contemporary Quotations, compiled by James B. Simpson,1988,  No. 2254, cited in Thomas J Peters & Robert H Waterman, In Search of Excellence,  Harper & Row,  p. 82  http://help.lockergnome.com/movies/Eighty-percent-success-showing--ftopict867.html

[3] The quality of appearing on time applies not only to Bein Adam LeChaveiro (between man-and-man) contexts, but also to Bein Adam LaMakom between man-and-God) situations. Consequently, we should exhibit the same care that we exercise when we strive to be on time for an appointment with another person, with respect to coming to communal prayer occasions.

[4] New York Times, Aug. 21, 1977, quoted in The Yale Book of Quotations, ed. Fred Shapiro, Yale. U. Press, New Haven, 2006, p. 17.

[5] http://www.famous-quotes.net/Quote.aspx?Ninety_percent_of_life_is_just_showing_up.

[6]Jay Detweiler, Ibid.

[7] The Koren translation renders “Elokim”, “angels.”

R. S.R. Hirsch (The Psalms, Feldheim, Jerusalem, 1978, p. 54 “The Divine”.

Robert Alter (The Book of Psalms, W.W. Norton, NY, 2007, p. 23) translates “gods” [fn. 6 The ambiguous Hebrew “Elokim” which could refer to gods or celestial beings, but probably not in this context to the single deity, sets humankind in a hierarchical ladder:God at the very top, the gods or celestial beings below Him, then man, and below man, the whole kingdom of other living creatures.] While Alter might be trying to determine the “Peshat”, the Gemora by defining the antecedent of “him” as Moshe, would seem to understand that “Elokim” is a reference to the “Single Deity.”

[8] Such a mindset resoundingly challenges those who attempt to explain away calamities by categorizing them as punishments or atonements for particular individual or societal transgressions. It is difficult for me to understand how some can presume that they “know” such things. While God has His Reasons, who is to say that man is privy to them?

[9] Perhaps this explains the extreme metaphor “Mitchayev BeNafsho” (one is culpable to lose his life) which is stated regarding certain behaviors—e.g., Avot 3:4 (R. Chanina ben Chachinai: A person  who stays up at night, who walks on the way alone and who dedicates himself to worthless pursuits; Ibid., 3:7 R. Shimon: A person who is learning while walking in the way and interrupts to admire the natural surroundings; Ibid. 3:8 R. Meir: A person who forgets something that he had learned.) If the ideal is to be fully alive literally and figuratively, these types of actions deprive one of such “life.”

[10] In a religious vein, one ought to go out of his/her way to pursue his interests and passions, be they  acts of Chesed, engaging in Tora study, volunteering for communal projects, participating in Chevra Kaddisha activities, etc.

[11] Attending synagogue services on Yom Tov, or at any time, should not be taken for granted according to Christopher Nichols in an article “The ‘New’ No Religionists” (Culture Fall 2009 3.2, pp. 12-14. He writes, “In the period from 1957 to the present, the number in the ‘no religion’ category (individuals responding to demographic surveys) grew five-fold (500%) with the sharpest increase coming after 1990. In 2008 more than 30 million were ‘no religionists.’… They are often younger Americans. In fact the single largest bloc is comprised of young males; nearly a quarter of all men between 18 and 34 identify as ‘no religionists.’ To put this in perspective, there are more Americans professing “no religion” than all Episcopalians, Methodists and Lutherans combined.” One of the reasons that Nichols suggests, i.e., that the rise of evangelical involvement in politics has had a negative effect on some American’s attitude towards religious observance, has a parallel in Israel, where a percentage of young people have become alienated from religion because of what they perceive are some of the excesses perpetrated by certain religious elements within the society.

[12] In contrast to the ideological stance assumed by the Reform movement when they referred to all of their synagogues as “Temples” reflecting the view that the synagogue is the permanent replacement for the Jerusalem Temple, a more traditional view of this Talmudic passage would maintain that Diaspora synagogues and houses of study are temporary substitutes in the spirit of “Zecher LeMikdash” (commemorations of the Temple) (see Encyclopedia  Talmudit, vol.3, col. 240-1) intended to keep alive the memory as well as the hope that this institution will eventually be restored.

[13] Of course one can speculate whether the synagogues and study houses of Babylonia, the point of origin of the Babylonian Talmud, are qualitatively superior to those in other Diaspora communities.

[14] E.g., Birkat Kohanim, Hoshanot, Tefillat Geshem, Tora readings and Haftarot, etc.

[15] “To a Louse” (1786) in The Yale Book of Quotations, ed. Fred Schapiro, Yale. U. Press, New Haven, 2006, p. 117.

[16] The Chief Rabbi’s Haggada, Harper Collins, London, 2003, pp. 46-7.

[17] Berachot 28a; Yoma 72b.