BUILDING A MISHKAN IN MASSAPEQUA
I’m a big believer in unprovoked, senseless and gratuitous acts of kindness. Do you ever think about what kind thing you did today—throw a stranger a smile, open a door for a co-worker, listen to a colleague’s worries, or volunteer at a local hospital, food pantry or shelter? This probably sounds hopelessly trite but it is these very acts of kindness that make life worthwhile and inspire others.
Let me say something about the younger generation. They get dumped on a lot for not showing up at church or synagogue and perhaps not engaging in formal rituals the way their parents did, but I don’t think they are any less religious than we were at their age. I think they are searching for new ways to experience God. Their sense of religiosity is almost synonymous with the very acts of kindness this world lacks. The younger people get it and maybe their love for ma’asim tovim, good deeds, should in fact be the success stories that generations of Jewish leadership have been looking for. The kids have really absorbed what we have always taught them is most important: making this world a better place.
According to a recent Pew study, one in four American millennials—that’s the name for people born after 1980 and came of age around the millennium—identify themseves as "atheist," "agnostic" or "nothing in particular." And yet when it comes to a variety of faith beliefs, their beliefs are not far from those of their parents. The implication is that although they define themselves as secular, they’re fairly lousy secularists, which is what I’ve suspected all along.
I meet kids with good hearts all the time, willing to do for others, intersted in learning, honest—sometimes to a fault—and I wonder why they would not find religious services deeply appealing. Those are all the values we talk about. Oh well—I guess when we’re reading in the Torah about building a mishkan, a portable sanctuary in the wilderness, they too are thinking about building their portable sanctuaries—but in Massapequa (that’s just a figurative expression for anywhere or no where in particular—I liked the alliteration of “mishkan,” “Massapequa,” but you know what I mean). They’re building the places where God may dwell in their communities, their neighborhoods, their families, and their businesses. I can live with that. God said to Moshe—“..make Me a sanctuary that I might live among [the people]” (Exodus 25:8). So wherever the people are found, that is where God may be found—as long as you are willing to build that sanctuary—with good deeds, kindness, sacrifice and gifts given with no expectation of reward. If you can’t find God in shul, find Him wherever you want, find Him in Massapequa, but you’ll have to do some building. Consider this piece your building permit.
I’m a big believer in unprovoked, senseless and gratuitous acts of kindness. Do you ever think about what kind thing you did today—throw a stranger a smile, open a door for a co-worker, listen to a colleague’s worries, or volunteer at a local hospital, food pantry or shelter? This probably sounds hopelessly trite but it is these very acts of kindness that make life worthwhile and inspire others.
Let me say something about the younger generation. They get dumped on a lot for not showing up at church or synagogue and perhaps not engaging in formal rituals the way their parents did, but I don’t think they are any less religious than we were at their age. I think they are searching for new ways to experience God. Their sense of religiosity is almost synonymous with the very acts of kindness this world lacks. The younger people get it and maybe their love for ma’asim tovim, good deeds, should in fact be the success stories that generations of Jewish leadership have been looking for. The kids have really absorbed what we have always taught them is most important: making this world a better place.
According to a recent Pew study, one in four American millennials—that’s the name for people born after 1980 and came of age around the millennium—identify themseves as "atheist," "agnostic" or "nothing in particular." And yet when it comes to a variety of faith beliefs, their beliefs are not far from those of their parents. The implication is that although they define themselves as secular, they’re fairly lousy secularists, which is what I’ve suspected all along.
I meet kids with good hearts all the time, willing to do for others, intersted in learning, honest—sometimes to a fault—and I wonder why they would not find religious services deeply appealing. Those are all the values we talk about. Oh well—I guess when we’re reading in the Torah about building a mishkan, a portable sanctuary in the wilderness, they too are thinking about building their portable sanctuaries—but in Massapequa (that’s just a figurative expression for anywhere or no where in particular—I liked the alliteration of “mishkan,” “Massapequa,” but you know what I mean). They’re building the places where God may dwell in their communities, their neighborhoods, their families, and their businesses. I can live with that. God said to Moshe—“..make Me a sanctuary that I might live among [the people]” (Exodus 25:8). So wherever the people are found, that is where God may be found—as long as you are willing to build that sanctuary—with good deeds, kindness, sacrifice and gifts given with no expectation of reward. If you can’t find God in shul, find Him wherever you want, find Him in Massapequa, but you’ll have to do some building. Consider this piece your building permit.
Congratulations on launching this blog. I would like to share with you (with great pride) a portable act of kindness perpetrated by my children in the hope that others may be inspired. Sometime ago, our eldest daughter, while attending college in New York City, developed the habit of carrying granola bars with her, with the specific purpose of being able to give them to the homeless people and pan handlers that she would pass on the street. This has now become a family practice. Our third child, also attending school in New York, recently informed us that during her distributions she is referred to by many of the homeless and vagrants of Morning Side Heights, as ‘Granola Girl!’
ReplyDeleteIt was the Kotsker Rebbe who said, “God can be found in the place where He is given entry.” What better way to practice religion than in seeking out another and doing good for them.
We buld a mishkan when we live with 'intent,' moment by moment, intention by intention. Aren't these the precepts of many religions? Perhaps young people are not so much atheists or agnotics, but rather disillusioned by 'FORMAL' religion. Jews are not the owners of good deeds; we have only to read about the misdeeds of people who define and asociate themsleves with all the major religions... using our own 'sachel' and acemen, we have to judge each person we meet on the basis of his/her acts of lovingkindness, regardless of synagogue attendance or lack thereof.
ReplyDeleteExcellent blog. My young son fiercely says he is athiest, but deep inside he does identifies himself as Jewish. He does a lot of charity. In his own way he is "religious" without knowing it. He may only attend the synagogue twice a year but he is always out repairing the world. That is what counts.
ReplyDeleteJeffrey--
ReplyDeleteI'm in love with the Granola Girls!! What a fabulous idea. Todah rabbah for posting this and giving people another hesed idea.
Chana,
ReplyDeleteYour atheist son is doing the Lord's work. Kol hakavod--Much honor is due him and you!
Welcome to the blog universe. I would like to invite you and your readers to take a look at another blog that may help bring a Jewish lens into play when looking at the world around us.
ReplyDeletehttp://bettyannsbestbets.blogspot.com/
Betty,
ReplyDeleteI concur--Betty Ann's Best Bets is a beautiful Blog! Thanks for letting us know, Betty!