SELFISH CONTENTMENT
AND
COMMUNAL DUTY.
A SERMON BY RABBI EDWARD N. CALISCH-
Seek the peace of the city whither I shall exile
you, and pray to God in its behalf; for in its
peace will there be peace to you. <Jer. xxix 7.)
Content has always been valued as one of
the most highly-prized of human possessions.
Poeta have sung its praises ; philosophers have
spoken of its beauty ; teachers have ever urged
man to its attainment. The contented man is
pictured as the only really happy man, and the
discontented is the embodiment of unhappi
ness.
This picture is true in a certain measure and
to a certain extent, but by no means wholly
so. While absolute contentment may be a
very valuable thing for the individual who
possesses it, it is hardly so for the race at large
or for the community in which that individual
may live Had all the world been absolutely
contented with their lot, it is barely possible
that any human progress had ever been made.
Tnat the race has advanced, and that improve
ments have been made in every branch of hu
man existence, is due to the fact that there
have been some hearts filled with a divine dis
content. There have ever been some brave
aoula that would not remain satisfied with the
conditions of existence, bnt that songht here
and there and in a thousand ways to better
things. Explorers, teachers, thinkers, discov
erers, and inventors have been busy, trying,
testing, experimenting, drilling into the bowels
of the earth, penetrating the primeval jungles,
diving into tbe depths of the ocean, scanning
the firmament by night and by day, pulling to
pieces flowers, forests, fish, birds, beasts and
minerals, peering into nature's secret arcana,
questioning the stars and the planets, follow
ing the lightning's flash, listening to the surge
of the sea, the song of the wind, and tbe sono
rous roll of the thunder, that they may enlarge
the boundaries of human knowledge and widen
the litrits of human activities. To them, in
deed, is the world indebted that we stand to
day where we do, and that physically, men
tally and morally onr life id better and broader
than our fathers'.
What is trne of the world and the hnman
race at large, is no leas trne of a single nation,
state, community, or organization of any kind.
Every member of a body of people, no matter
how laige or how small, has the duty, impera
tive and profound, to work for the betterment
of that body, to give his share of labor and effort,
not, only for its maintenance, bnt its improve
ment. There must be a constant effort for im
provement. There can be no stauding still
Hillel well aaid, tt»Q» tIDT9 " who
does not increase, decreases." (Sayings of the
Fathers, I, 13.) And Jeremiah well understood
the necessity forcommnnal duty, when he urg
ed the people to work and pray for the wel
fare of the city whither they had been exiled.
(xxix-7).
There is unfortunately a large class of men
to whom this admonition seems to be given in
vain. They have not the .lightest conception
of communal duty, or if they do, not the slight
est inclination to carry it out. There are men
who, as citizens do not take the time or trouble
to perform the simplest duty of citizenship
They can complain if there be defects in the
management of affairs, and sometimes when
the defect is only imaginary, but to take ac
tive measures to remedy the defect, or to take
precautions that it shall not occur again, is
never done by them.
There are men who are members of lodges,
societies, associations, and of the congregation,
who rarely, if ever, attend meetings, never
serve upon committees; and in nowise or man
ner do more to maintain and build up these
communal institutions than merely to pay their
dues or the assementa that may be levied
against.
Conspicuously so I may aay is this tine of
our Jewish lodges and of our congregation. We
have members who do absolutely nothing more
than pay their dues. They never attend a
meeting; are rarely seen at a service, and are
so hopelessly indifferent that no one ever thinks
of asking them to do anything for the good of
the community. To do so spontaneously is
out of the question. There are men in the
community who have been blessed in their life's
efforts. They have achieved independence and
competence. Yet their lives are conducted
utterly and solely for themselves and their
families.
They are perfectly contented to let things go
on as they do. They do not care to interfere.
They don't want the bother. They are willing
to pay toward the maintenance of communal
institutions, but cannot think giving any of
their time or their ability or their labor. Their
lives are conducted on a selfish basis. They
are content to plod for themselves. So long as
their wishes and the wishes of their wives are
gratified, they look no higher. So long as
they can occupy a position in society, maintain
their homes and their equipages and perform
their social functions, they care little for the
community. They are interested in, and regu
lar attendants at, only such associations as grati
fy their pleasures, contribute to their enjoy
ment and aid their plans. They give of their
time or their means to other organizations only
in so far as necessity demands, or as a decent
respect for the opinion of the community
drives them. They organize no movement for
the benefit or relief of other members of the
community and do not go into these movements
unless they are approached by a person they
do not care to refuse, or they fear that their
withdrawal will injure their social prestige.
They are selfishly content, they care not for com
munal duty.
But I want to say, that a man's duty to the
congregation is not performed when he puyshis
dues, no matter how great or how small they are
are, nor his duty to hid state answered, when
he merely pays his taxes. No man has a right
to think that he has fulfilled his obligation to
either by the payment of the accident of taxes
or of dues. The dues and taxes are to govern
ment and congregation what counters, shelv
ing and fixtures are to the merchant. These
are the accidents of the business. I call them
accidents because they are the non-essentials
of congregational and national life. A govern
ment is not instituted merely to collect tax. s,
but to maintain order, promote the welfare of
its individuals by protecting them against
violence, crime and danger, and to gaard them
in the exercise of their rights and prerogatives
A congregation is maintained for the spiritual
welfare and improvement of its members. The
building, school-rooms, and even the minister
are only accessories- They are simply to give
the member the opportunity, and if he take
not advantage of them or they do not lead him
on the path of nobler, unselfish life, they may be
ever so magnificent and well equipped, they
are in vain.
The sages of old knew fnll well the need of
each member doing his dnty to the community.
Hiiiei taught -yoyn p cman "*<>
not separate yourself from the congregation."
(Sayings of the Fathers, II5). And no man
can consider himself affiliated merely because
he pays a yearly stipend. The community ex
pects, and has a right to expect, active partici
pation in all its undertakings. It has a claim
upon the mental capital of its members as well
upon their purses. Rabbi Tarphon taught,
"it ia not incumbent upon anyone to complete
the work, yet no one has a right to excuse him
self from doing his share." (Ibidem 21.)
Says Emerson (Essay on Wealth, p. 85),
"Everyman fails to make his place good in
the world, unless he not only pays- his debt,
but also adds something to the common
wealth."
In a religious body the " common wealth "
is made of its spiritual activities, of its noble,
unselfish lives, of its efforts toward a broader,
deeper, and better existence, of its endeavors
to allay pain, to soften sorrow, to relieve dis
tress, to succor the needy, protect the friend
less, clothe the naked, and feed the hungry.
And every man, woman, and child has the duty
to add to this wealth.
There was a legend narrated at the Parlia
ment of Religions. It may appear somewhat
humorous, but as has been well said, " humor
is an invisible tear through a visible smile."
There was an old woman who for many centu
ries had suffered tortures in the flames of hell
fur she had been a great, sinner during her
earthly career. One day she saw in the far
away distance an angel taking his flight
through the bine skies. With the whole
strength of her voice she called to him. The
call must have been desperate, for the angel
stopped in his flight and asked what she
wanted.
"When you reach the throne of God," she
said, "tell Him that a miserable creature has
suffered more than she can bear, and asks to be
delivered from her tortures."
The angel promised to do so and flew away.
When be had transmitted his message, God
said, "Ask her whether she has ever done any
good to anyone in her life."
The woman strained her memory in search
of one good act in her sinful past, and all at
once she cried, "I've got one. One day I gave
a carrot to a hungry beggar." The answer
was reported.
"Take a carrot," said God to the angel
"stretch it out to her. Let her grasp it, and
if the plant is strong enough to draw her out
of hell, she shall be saved."
This the angel did. The poor old woman
clung to the carrot. The angel began to pull,
and lo! she began to rise. But when her body
was half out of the flames she felt a weight at
her feet Another sinner was clinging to her.