Rabbi's Musings

Mark Twain used to say that when the world came to an end he wanted to be in Cleveland, since everything happens there ten years later than the rest of the world. Poor Cleveland. Of course, if you want to cheat death there is a simpler way. Keeping coming here to synagogue. A major study of church attendance and mortality indicates that people who attend church, synagogue, or their mosque every week live an average of seven years longer than people who never attend worship services.

Researchers found the life expectancy of people who said they never attended church was 55.3 years beyond age 20, or age 75, compared with 61.9 years, or 82, for those who attended services once a week and 62.9 years, or 83, for those who attended more than once a week.

This kind of data underscores the power of religions, not only for their psychological well-being, but also their physical well-being. The study may be new but the connection between religion and health is quite old.

Among what we call primitive tribes, the priest is also called the medicine man. Also among the civilized ancient Greeks, healing was done by the priests of the god Aesculapius, and his temple was the hospital. So, too, in our own purely monotheistic religion, the priest examined patients and diagnosed their ailments. Evidently in all religions, from the most primitive to the advanced, health and religion were closely connected. 

Now, based on this knowledge, one would think our sanctuary would be standing room only. Don’t get me wrong. I am happy with who does attend. But I do wonder why — if religion is so healthy for us — more of us don’t take advantage of this therapy.

I know that we Americans are not as healthy as we should be; half of men my age don’t even have a physician. But attending worship is a lot easier than having a colonoscopy, right?

And yet, religion is clearly on the decline. Is it that we don’t tout the physical benefits of religion? Or that, competing in that arena makes no sense in a society where Weight Watchers and the local gym are less expensive in the long run than religious affiliation?

In other words, are we focusing too much on therapy — which is not our central strength — instead of theology, the traditional point of religious belief? Evangelicals are growing and Orthodox Judaism is maintaining its own for that very reason. But the problem for Reform Jews — and it is a serious one — is that we don’t believe the traditional theology. That’s what makes us Reform in the first place. 

If we are only about therapy, we are left with a denuded theology that speaks of God caring but not disciplining, and a therapeutic routine that is beneficial but not singular. Will that be enough? And do we have any choice? I don’t think we do have a choice. But I think it can be enough. 

What we must do is be better at touting the pragmatic, therapeutic, and transformative effect of religious involvement in our lives. Now more than ever, we need the tranquility of Shabbat and the well-being that comes from performing good deeds. We need the ability to schmooze with others and be visited when we are ill. We need to be part of a community, not because we are commanded but because, if not, we are missing out on a great way to enrich our lives.

But we also need to remember that it’s not just about feeling better about ourselves. It’s also about rising above ourselves.

We are not supposed to be like the patron at the bar who, upon finishing his scotch and soda, hurled the empty glass against the mirrored wall that faced him. When the bartender expressed his surprise and dismay, the man apologized profusely. He was genuinely sorry, but he simply couldn’t help himself. Every time he had a drink, he had this uncontrollable urge to smash the glass against the wall. “Then I always feel guilty.”

The bartender sympathized with the contrite drinker and urged him to see a therapist. The patron assured him that he would do so. Several months later he returned to the bar, ordered a scotch and soda and, as before, smashed the empty glass against the wall.
“I thought you were going to get help,” cried the bartender.
“I did,” boasted the patron. “And it did me a world of good. Now I no longer feel guilty!”

As even a good therapist knows, the point of working on ourselves is not to become codependent for our baser natures. And even liberal religion has to be more than a feel good therapy.

We engage in Torah because it has practical value: lives that are guided by moral values are healthier, happier, and lead to a better world.

We Reform Jews have a tough task. We live in a world where every source for authority has to prove itself, again and again. And we have a confusing message: take the Torah seriously but not always literally. If we take the Torah seriously, then we can learn to savor the good things in life while at the same time working to save the world from the fires of hate and injustice.

The values of the Torah are not an extra strain on our over-crowded schedules. They are the foundation of what it means to be a responsible, centered person.