"American Beauty", Dayyaynu and Korban Todah

Rabbi Gary S. Creditor
April 7, 2000

 

Tonight I would like to draw a line linking four things: the most famous Passover song Dayyaynu; the Korban Todah, the thank-offering sacrifice, which we read several weeks ago; a Chasidic story, and the movie which swept the Oscars, "American Beauty."

I immediately acknowledge that I specifically did not see this movie. In following its reviews and other articles decided that I had already internalized its message and didn't need to get depressed over the movie. In the aftermath of its award winning performance there has been a continuing conversation over the message of this movie in the Rabbinic network. I would like to link it to the current part of the Torah which we are reading, Leviticus, the holiday coming in ten days, Pesach and a wonderful story told by a personal friend, a mohel and now famous author of Chasidic stories.

There is one thread, which connects the song, the sacrifice, the story, and the movie.

The question of "American Beauty" is: What makes life beautiful?

Its accompanying question is: Where do we find happiness in life?

Not giving away any secrets about the plot, The characters in "American Beauty" are yearning to fulfill a dream that they think will somehow get them out of their lives which they believe are miserable. For Lester Burnham, it is an overwhelming passion for a young girl. For his wife, Carolyn, it is becoming the most successful real estate agent in her town. For their teenaged daughter Jane, it is changing her physical appearance. For their neighbor, Colonel Frank Fitts, it is the semblance of a happy, normal domestic all-American life. By the end of the film, most of the characters get a taste of their dreams and discover the underlying emptiness of their lives. Looking closer, they see the decay that has replaced genuine beauty. Their dreams are nothing but illusions.

The Korban Todah was one of the Shelamim, the Peace Offerings. It was brought by the offerer to the tabernacle or Temple when he had found, discovered a sense of wholeness, peace, and contentment. How it was brought teaches us great lessons.

The animal sacrifice was brought with matzah, oil and fine grain. It was brought to the kohen who offered it on the altar. It was entirely eaten in one day. Anything left over was entirely disposed of.

Matzah is dough, which is flat. The offering symbolized that in one's achievement; we should not be puffed up with pride and haughtiness. In realizing what we have there should be a sense of humility and modesty

Wholeness is measured by comparing one's achievement and one's potential, not in defeating someone else or obtaining that which belongs to someone else.

Wholeness is not found in isolation or self-absorption, rather in sharing. One did not eat the korban todah alone at home, but in the public domain of the tabernacle or temple. Happiness is found in sharing and in relationships. Being an island is a terribly lonely place. Being eaten up in one day symbolized that transitory nature of fame and fortune. There is a truth in the old cliché "here today and gone tomorrow." That which we have and that which we are, are all temporary. The sacrifice teaches us to appreciate that which we have this very moment, the kiss, hug, handshake, sunrise and sunset. Contentment is found in appreciating what we have this very moment and not in coveting something for tomorrow.

Bringing the korban todah to the tabernacle was bringing it before God, to recognize that we are not the source of our blessings, our achievements. We are the recipients of God's gifts.

The person who brought the korban todah was one who discovered these secrets of the beauty of life and had acquired a measure of inner peace. He brought the sacrifice in order to say "thank you." That entire procedure gave him peace of heart and soul. Saying "thank you" truly and sincerely, with all that it indicates opens up a world of beauty.

Everyone knows how to sing Dayaynu. But when you sing all the verses you realize that the poet was saying God didn't have to do it all. He could have stopped here. He didn't have to finish the list! And it would have been Dayaynu - Good enough! The poem is not a Passover song; it is a perspective on life. We don't have to have everything, only that which we need. And when we receive more, we say "Dayaynu" - "it's enough." My grandmother used to say "Shayn genug" - even in her fourth floor walk-up. She taught me those words as a philosophy of life. It is not wrong to want more. It is wrong to be obsessively compulsive about having more, never satisfied with what you already have. The poet of Dayaynu wants us to know that redemption had occurred at any one of the previous steps. There didn't have to be more and we were still redeemed. We need to be able to look at our lives, say Dayaynu, shayn genug, and be satisfied, and see life's beauty. In one of their original albums Peter, Paul and Mary sang: "See what tomorrow brings. May bring you sunshine. May bring you rain. May bring you diamond rings. But if it don't bring you love it don't bring you anything." We have to receive and give love and say Dayaynu.

The Chassidic story is told by Rabbi Pesach Krohn in his book "The Maggid Speaks." He retells a parable created by the venerable sage, the Chafetz Chaim.

A penniless Jew named Yaakov decided he would take the long, risky voyage to a far-away island near Africa that was rumored to have so many diamonds that they lay scattered in the streets. Even though the trip would take a year on the sea, the thought of returning home with tremendous wealth made the undertaking worthwhile. Yaakov wished his family farewell, and after a year he finally reached the island. As he got off the boat he saw that the rumor was true. Diamonds were lying around everywhere! He dropped his bags and quickly began to gather whatever he could get his hands on, stuffing them into his pocket. The people who saw him laughed at him. "What's your rush? The boat is not returning here for a whole year!" Yaakov though to himself, "Hey, they're right. Besides there's so many diamonds here - there's enough for everyone." The next day he began to pick up diamonds and noticed that no one else was doing it. In fact, they laughed at him, and he began to feel like a fool. He asked his neighbor, "If diamonds aren't important here, tell me -- what is?" "Fats, my friend. That's where it's at. Oil, shortening -- anything that can be used for baking and frying. It's so hard to get that stuff here, anyone who can produce it is bound to become rich." Yaakov immediately began to work hard at producing and selling fats. He became so immersed that he eventually forgot why he had come to the island in the first place. He would ignore the diamonds in the street like everyone else, and over time amassed a great supply of fats, receiving a lot of honor from the islanders. Months passed and news came to the island that the boat was coming to pick up all the foreigners in two weeks. Yaakov was too caught up in producing fats to refocus his thoughts. "What a successful year! Time to pack up my fats and take them home!" As he was boarding the boat, he suddenly remembered that the whole reason for coming to the islands was for diamonds, not fats! It was too late now, and as he scooped up a few diamonds, he figured that all the fats and oils would make him rich at home. After a few weeks on the boat, all the oil began to rot and stink up the entire ship. There was no choice but to throw it all overboard. Yaakov realized he totally blew it and was dreading the disappointment of his wife and children. The ship finally docked, and Yaakov, feeling embarrassed and ashamed, went to his room alone and cried himself to sleep. His wife figured he was exhausted from the journey and decided not to disturb him. She picked up his coat and discovered two large diamonds in the pocket. With great excitement she showed them to the jewel dealer who told her, "Lady -- you are rich! These diamonds are worth a fortune that will last you for many years to come!"

The wife ran back to her husband. "Yaakov, you did it! We're so lucky! You're so smart!"

"Oy!" Yaakov groaned, "if only I kept focused on what was really important! It's true we got a few diamonds, and that's wonderful, but I could have amassed a fortune that would have lasted us a lifetime!"

"American Beauty" reminds us that there is real beauty in life that makes it all worthwhile. What a tragic shame it is to lose sight of the diamonds. Verbally and spiritually we should offer our personal korban todah every day. In two weeks let us sit at seder tables singing Dayaynu with gusto, while living its meaning every day. May we be happy with our portion and grateful for our blessings. May we realize the diamonds, which we do have. 

Amen.