The cover of last year’s Yeshiva University’s Torah publication says it all. It has a picture of a man walking from a Maserati to a private jet with a kippah on his head and his tzitzis hanging out. The title of the publication is, A Material Matter: Jewish Influence in Contemporary Times.

Tradition Magazine, the intellectual mouthpiece of the Rabbinical Council of America hosted a one-day symposium on the topic of materialism and the excesses of wealth in the Orthodox community and dedicated a full journal to the topic. Most discussed was an article by Rabbi Jeremy Wieder, a rebbi in YU, who highlighted, among other things, a short-lived Orthodox publication known as the Mocher magazine which “surveyed fine wines, shpitz suits, cigars, man caves, and fine watches.” In a subsequent podcast he lambasted those who go on exotic vacations and share their pictures with others. If you want to go to the slopes of Vail, go for it, he said. But to share pictures of yourself doing so is the ultimate violation of tzniut, the Jewish value on modesty.

And there’s a certain irony here. While the Orthodox community’s taste in fine things continues to grow, so much of our literature promotes perishut, a sense of holding back and refraining from enjoying the indulgences of this world. Avital Chizhik-Goldschmidt and Chaim Saiman share an example of this tension: When Rav Chaim Kaniefsky, the leading Torah scholar in Israel passed away a few years ago, there were two things that people spoke about – his diligence in studying Torah and his simplicity. He lived in a tiny apartment in Bnei Brak despite being the most influential person in the Orthodox world. And yet, after he passed, his shtender, the piece of wood he learned from every day was sold by auction for millions of dollars.

Today we read the book of Kohelet. Rav Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin suggests that the book was originally a lecture given by King Solomon to the visiting gentiles who would flock to Israel during the holidays. This would explain why there is barely any mention of G-d in the entire book and even when there is, the more universal name ‘Elokim’ is used. Be that as it may, Kohelet, a book which is a sustained critique against hedonism is not directed to the Jewish People, seemingly because they did not need it.

Our Sages were wise enough to recognize that in the modern era, Solomon’s message is as relevant as can be. For those who missed it this morning, King Shlomo engages in an experiment. To quote: “I withheld from my eyes nothing… and denied myself no enjoyment… I multiplied my possessions. I built myself houses and I planted vineyards.” In modern terms, whatever ads showed up in Mishpacha magazine was immediately purchased by King Solomon; he went on all the vacations, bought all the watches, the wigs, and the jewelry.

But when it was all said done, he was left with nothing. Writes Shlomo: “A lover of money never has his fill of money, nor a lover of wealth his fill of income. That too is futile. As his substance increases, so do those who consume it; what, then, does the success of its owner amount to but feasting his eyes?”

 

Why am I sharing all this with you? Our parking lot is not filled with fancy cars, people are not wearing high-end watches, and I rarely see anyone here sharing vacation pictures on social media. If you look around this room, you will not have a clue who is wealthy and who is behind in their mortgage payments. The leadership of our shul has never been dominated by the rich and famous.

And that’s exactly why I am sharing this message with you, the Ner Tamid community. Keep. It. Up.

My comments are not meant as a critique of any other group; there is nothing to gain by criticizing others, there is only value in introspection. But today, I simply want to highlight something that we are good at – the attribute of modesty. Modesty is the Jewish way of life – hatzneia lechet – and it promotes humility, simplicity, and not standing out. Yes, it includes detailed rules about the clothing men and women should and should not wear, but that is just a single expression of this beautiful way of life.

People may complain about our mechitza being too low and it being a breach of tzniut, of modesty. We could and should talk about the size of the mechitza another time; to discuss how to raise it in an appropriate fashion. But don’t you dare accuse Ner Tamid of not being tzanuah! This is the most modest shul in town.

In Ner Tamid, Bar and Bat Mitzvahs are simple. People dress simply. People are private about their financial success. Keep. It. Up.

Ner Tamid is a breath of fresh air.

Where to draw the line between appropriate indulgence and excess is extremely difficult and extremely subjective. Please don’t judge other shuls and other people. Let’s just appreciate this morning how we have something good going for us and we should embrace it with our heads up high (well, not too high, because that would not be modest).

I’ll conclude by sharing a beautiful observation made by Rabbi Wieder. Yaakov, today’s Ushpizin, has two dreams that are recorded in the Torah. One when he leaves Israel and one on his return. The first dream is a dream about angels, the second is a dream about sheep. The first dream took place after spending years studying Torah and the second dream took place after twenty years as a shepherd. This is a subtle critique. What we engage in is what we dream of. Yaakov’s aspirations had shifted over the years from the spiritual to the material.

There is nothing wrong with working. On the contrary, making a living is a value and has to be balanced with a life of spiritual pursuits. But the litmus test for how we and our children are doing is what we are dreaming of –

Are we dreaming of beautiful homes or are we dreaming of beautiful families?

Are we dreaming of high-end watches or are we dreaming of using our time wisely?

Are we dreaming of diverse stock portfolios or are we dreaming of diverse Torah knowledge?

May we continue to be a beacon of light, of modesty, and endless spiritual aspirations.