Sermon – Parashat Vayakhel P’kudei: Can happiness be instructed?
Written by Rabbi Hannah Kingston — 9 April 2023
Parashat Vayakhel P’kudei: Can happiness be instructed?
On Monday of next week, the United Nations celebrates the International Day of Happiness. Marked in 160 countries, the day is about people recognising that ‘progress’ not just be about growing the economy, but should be about increasing human happiness and wellbeing.
In its tenth year of observation, this year the day is dedicated to adopting simple daily practices, so that we can create a happier and kinder world together. Three tips have been provided to help us to adopt this happier attitude.
- Step one – we should be mindful, relax and notice how we are feeling.
- Step two – we should be grateful, look around and ask what are we thankful for.
- Step three – we should be kind, ask ourselves who do we want to send love to.
It is believed that by taking these steps a person is able to give themselves a boost and build their compassion for others. These steps may not be able to solve the big and worrying issues in the world, they may not be able to change the outcome of different scenarios, but it is thought that by acting in this way we can change how we respond and therefore cope in any given situation.
Jewishly it feels fitting to have the International Day of Happiness in the month of Adar. We are told ‘ Mi shenichnas Adar marbin b’simcha’ – when the month of Adar begins, we increase our joy! Adar is the end of our biblical year, so we celebrate the fact that we survived another cycle. It also contains within it the festival of Purim, celebrated just a couple of weeks ago, a time of raucous joy and obligatory inebriation.
But when the world feels in flux, when many are only just surviving through a cost of living crisis, when doctors, and nurses, and teachers, and train drivers have been striking due to unfair expectations on their work and pay, can we really legislate happiness? When we are in a state of uncertainty, how does it feel to be told to be happy? Does it help our mindset, or does it instead feel like another unrealistic expectation thrust on us?
According to Jewish tradition, joy is a necessary component to a meaningful Jewish life and therefore we have many teachings from throughout the ages instructing us to happiness.
In our own sanctuary the words loom over us – Ivdu et Adonai b’simcha – serve God with joy. When we step into this place of prayer, we should do so with a specific intention, a kavannah of happy prayer and joyful song.
The 17th century sage, Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav teaches, “It is a great mitzvah to be happy always.” He continues to teach, “If you don’t feel happy, pretend to be. Genuine joy will follow.”
Now, no offence to Rabbi Nachman, but I strongly disagree with his teachings. It seems like a terribly naïve approach to life. Are we truly meant to be happy when faced with destruction, refugee crises, cost of living, strikes? Are we meant to feel joy at a funeral? Are we meant to smile in the face of sickness? And when we don’t feel that joy, is it really beneficial to us, or to our loved ones, for us to fake it, to pretend that we are ok, even when we need their help and support?
Rabbi Nachman himself could not even uphold his ideals about happiness. Records from his life showed that he struggled with mental illness, as well as many accompanying physical ailments.
So is his teaching truly as foolish as it seems on the surface, or is Nachman of Bratslav, and the years of Jewish tradition that he bases his teachings on, trying to tell us something different.
It could be that our Jewish tradition is trying to stop us from being passive receivers of our fate, by transforming us into active doers. Because happiness is not an emotion that just arrives, but something we must work for. Happiness requires an active voice, skills, the art of noticing, the ability to accept the gifts we have received.
Medieval Spanish philosopher, Maimonides, teaches, “It is natural for a person’s character to be drawn after the thoughts and actions of their friends, and for them to follow the norms of the people of their country. Therefore, one must associate with the righteous so as to learn from their deeds.”
Maimonides conveys that it is our actions that lead to our happiness, for: “Happy is the person who has not followed the counsel of the wicked…”.
Therefore, maybe the command to live with happiness, even when we don’t feel it, is instead a command to be present, to play an active part in our lives and our destinies and to notice moments that can help us to feel better. Maybe it is an invitation to allow us to find contentment, a more subtle emotion that is often mistaken for happiness, in just showing up.
This week’s parasha teaches us that each of the Israelites played an active part in the building of the mishkan, with every person contributing what their hearts moved them to; fine materials, silks, golds and silvers.
But what was special about this communal effort was that no gift was seen as better than someone elses. The monetry value was not important, it was the act of bringing that made the offerings invaluable.
This teaches us that we must be active, we must bring of ourselves to our Judaism.
But we should not bring just what we think is expected of us, the finest materials, the selves that are most shiny, most polished.
No, we should bring the parts of ourselves that we can afford to bring, we should bring what we can muster, we should bring ourselves as we are.
Happiness may be part of a deep trenched theology in Judaism, an emotion we have strived to be for generations even in the face of adversity.
But when we look at the state of the world, it might feel that happiness is not in our control. And when we are faced with moments of individual hardship, we may not be able to comprehend that joy is an option.
And in those moments it feels especially hard to be instructed to be happy.
So when we offer ourselves, and the gifts that we are bringing, we should not be happy, just because we are expected to be. We should not add unnecessary pressure on ourselves to be a certain way. Because, when we spend time putting on a front, we remove any morsel of genuine joy becoming a projection of ourselves and not the real us.
Rather, we should show up, just as we are in the moment. Because that is the offering we can truly put our hearts in.
When we allow what’s seen by others on the outside to match what we feel in our hearts, when we allow ourselves moments of genuine expression, when we bring ourselves as we are frayed around the edges, imperfect and cracked, we allow ourselves the ability to feel whole, and there is a type of joy in that. And it might not be an overwhelming joy. It may not remove the need for us to cry, to sit in our sadness, to truly feel. But it might be a step towards something.
Because every time we choose to surround ourselves with a community who stands by us and supports us, even in these moments of weakness, we may find happiness, or at least contentment.
And every time we make the choice to show up, as we are, embracing the way we live and the people we choose to be in relationship with, we make a small, but active, step towards our own happiness.
And although we cannot change the fate of our world, we do have control over that.
So on Monday, do I expect to feel overwhelming happiness, just because the UN told me I should? No, I do not. I do not expect to feel less anxiety about the state of the world, about my own health, or about the lives of the people I care about.
But does the international day of happiness offer us an opportunity.
Will it be a day to remind us that we are in control of how we are in this world?
Will it be a day to recognise the moments of gratitude we should feel in life?
And will it be a day where we should encourage ourselves to be kind, not just to others, but to ourselves?
That is only for us to decide.