An Attitude of Gratitude

Erev Rosh Hashanah 5768

Rabbi Marc Soloway

A poor man lived with his wife and six children in a very small one-room house. They were always getting in each other's way and there was so little space they could hardly breathe!

Finally the man could stand it no more. He talked to his wife and asked her what to do. "Go see the rabbi," she told him, and after arguing a while, he went.

The rabbi greeted him and said, "I see something is troubling you. Whatever it is, you can tell me."
And so the poor man told the rabbi how miserable things were at home with him, his wife, and the six children all eating and living and sleeping in one room. The poor man told the rabbi, "We're even starting to yell and fight with each other. Life couldn't be worse."
The rabbi thought very deeply about the poor man's problem. Then he said, "Do exactly as I tell you and things will get better. Do you promise?" "I promise," the poor man said.

The rabbi then asked the poor man a strange question. "Do you own any animals?"
"Yes," he said. "I have one cow, one goat, and some chickens."
"Good," the rabbi said. "When you get home, take all the animals into your house to live with you."
The poor man was astonished to hear this advice from the rabbi, but he had promised to do exactly what the rabbi said. So he went home and took all the farm animals into the tiny one-room house.
The next day the poor man ran back to see the rabbi. "What have you done to me, Rabbi?" he cried. "It's awful. It's gone from bad to worse far worse. I did what you told me and the animals are all over the house! Rabbi, help me!"

The rabbi listened and said calmly, "Now go home and take the chickens back outside."
The poor man did as the rabbi said, but hurried back again the next day. "The chickens are gone, but Rabbi, the goat!" he moaned. "The goat is smashing up all the furniture and eating everything in sight!"

The good rabbi said, "Go home and remove the goat and may God bless you."
So the poor man went home and took the goat outside. But he ran back again to see the rabbi, crying and wailing. "What a nightmare you have brought to my house, Rabbi! With the cow it's like living in a stable! Can human beings live with an animal like this?"
The rabbi said sweetly, "My friend, you are right. May God bless you. Go home now and take the cow out of your house." And the poor man went quickly home and took the cow out of the house.
The next day he came running back to the rabbi again. "O Rabbi," he said with a big smile on his face, "we have such a good life now. The animals are all out of the house. The house is so quiet and we've got room to spare! What a joy!"

Many of you will have heard this story before in this or another version. A simple folk story, which usually has the the title It Could Always be Worse.  This evening as make this transition from one year into another, inevitably reflecting in so many ways on the year that has past and looking forward to a new year with all of its hopes and promises, I want to suggest a different meaning to this story.

There are so many questions we need to ask ourselves right now.  There is so much unfinished business, so many choices we have made that cannot be changed, however much we want to change them.  I think this story is about the consciousness of gratitude.  Yes, life is tough and scary and so much of the time we feel out of control, overwhelmed and sad and angry, depressed and hopeless. These feelings remove us from the miracle of the moment and deny us that feeling of gratitude.

According to our tradition, the very first words we are meant to utter in the morning are modeh, or for a woman, modah ani l'fanecha melech chai v'kayam she'hechzarta bi nishmati b'chemla.  Rabbah emunatecha.  I am grateful before You, living and eternal ruler that you have returned my soul to me in mercy.  Your faith in me is so great!  I don't know about you but there are so many mornings where I wake up moody and dark and this is the last thing I feel like saying!  Judaism always says, go beyond what you are feeling and recognize the power of the moment.  Easy to say - oy, so hard to do.  When we do it, it is not just about saying the words, but actually allowing the words to enter us and change how we feel.  'An attitude of gratitude,' as the movie The Secret puts it.  In the Amidah, the standing prayer that observant Jews say three times every day, the last three blessings are always blessing of gratitude.  Thank you for the wonders, the miracles and the great things that are with us every moment.  In Chapter 4 of Pirkei Avot, that wonderful collection of pithy rabbinic sayings, Rabbi Ben Zoma asks: aizeh hu ashir?  Who is wealthy?  Hasameach b'chelko.  The one who is happy with what they have. This does not mean that we are not allowed to want more, but it does mean that before we can think about what we want or need, we must first appreciate what we already have.  Yehudi, the Hebrew for Jew, comes from the root of l'hodot, to give thanks.

As we enter this New Year, I want to invite each of us to reflect honestly on the fading year and ask ourselves a tough question.  This is a hard one for me I promise you and I am probably more guilty than most of you of this, but I think it is every single one of us.  Ready?  How many times have I whined, complained and moaned about something that seems out of my control to change?  How many times have I given in to despair rather than found something for which to be grateful?  This is the essence of this little story to find moments of tranquility and deep thankfulness, even when the outer circumstances seem grim and painful. I am constantly inspired by some people in this community who really have and are struggling with deep pain and adversity and yet mange to remain positive and thankful.

Now the real trick is not to become obsessed with guilt for those lost moments, but rather to take this moment right now to reflect on everything in your life for which you are grateful, even or especially, if you have not noticed it recently.  As well as seeking out those conversations in which to ask and to grant forgiveness, we should also use these days to remember all of the people in our lives for whose presence and gifts we are grateful and let them know how much we appreciate them.

Each breath is a miracle.  We all have unanswered hopes and prayers for ourselves, each other and the world and of course we carry these into our Rosh Hashanah, but let's begin this process, this wonderful journey by acknowledgment and gratitude, praise and thanksgiving for all that we have, rather than bitterness or anger for what we lack.

May we breathe conscious and grateful breaths this year. 

Shanah tovah!