Many of us revisit longstanding questions about the meaning and purpose of life and what makes a “good” life. Some may brood or dwell upon deep philosophical preoccupations, even to the point of discouragement or despair. Sometimes, adversity or trauma can propel internal inquiries or ruminations. Milestone events, illness, or loss may also induce deep reflections pondering what life is really about and for.
As we grind through the daily bustle of activities and responsibilities, most of us develop an attitude or world view that justifies and governs how we act and what we believe and expect. Some are hedonists, seeking as much pleasure and good times as possible, while believing that “you only go around once in life” or “he who dies with the most assets wins.”
Others are given to spiritual, religious, philosophical or “pragmatic” platforms. Some are driven by political or “do-good” agendas that prioritize making the world a better place as a prominent value and objective. “Live and let live” is the mantra of those who want to do their own thing without censure, lecture, or restrictions, and who believe that as long as they are not hurting others, their lifestyle is okay.
Religious acolytes subscribe to codified sets of beliefs and commands and try to adhere to those as best they can. Muslims, Jews, and Christians follow their holy books, having notable differences but also many commonalities in principles that dictate subservience to an almighty God who give instructions and direction regarding what is worthy and good.
My own philosophy and moral compass is driven by the guiding principle of “becoming and being a mensch.” This descriptor and concept derives from the Yiddish mensch, which means “an upright person,” a “somebody,” or, “someone to admire and emulate, someone of noble character, a person of integrity, morality, dignity, with a sense of what is right and responsible.” A mensch is a dependable someone you can trust, who will care and do what’s right, guided by moral principles, conscience, and compassion.
I regard my deeds not to earn me passage to heaven but to be remembered when I get there.
How does one become a mensch? For starters, by embodying the principles and practices of acting justly, considering and honoring others, and being aware of the practical, moral, and spiritual consequences of thoughts and actions. The overriding desire is to bring glory to God in earthly efforts and aspirations toward menchhood.
Though I will die physically, my soul lives immortally and my legacy is eternal. All of my actions and choices comprise the story of my life. As I live and compose it, I want that story to tell of integrity and truth, rather than lies, regrets, embarrassment, and shame.
Religious and moral principles flowing from different views often overlap or converge toward what makes a “good or moral life,” despite distinct differences in spiritual beliefs. As a follower of Christ, I subscribe to Biblical principles and truths about the nature of life and eternity, human fallibility, God’s wisdom and commands, and the stated and implied obligations for human behavior. Though it may perplex some, my identity as a Christian and a Jew are very much compatible and harmonious. Believe me, I am very Jewish, by birth, character, and behavior. Becoming a mensch is a worthy and natural aspiration (and not limited to Jews).
Along with conscience, Scripture, and values, there are guardrails and guideposts along the way that inform the posture and virtue of a mensch via feedback. Without over dependence upon the opinion of others, it’s nonetheless good to know and appreciate how one is perceived.
Something noteworthy happened to me years ago that confirmed my journey as a mensch.
In 2002, there was a shooting tragedy in the Washington D.C. area known as the “D.C. sniper attacks.” Horrible as this was, we were not yet as pummeled by the regularity of pervasive gun violence that inures us presently. At the time, I was a medical consultant for NBC television, and I was frequently called upon to offer opinions and explanations regarding the psychological motivations and consequences surrounding traumatic news events. NBC asked me to sit in the studio, taking live phone calls from concerned and anxious callers, particularly parents, about how to interpret and calm the nerves of those vicariously traumatized by the well-publicized shootings.
I did my best to field calls, sympathize and reassure, and offer calming professional advice. Among the anonymous callers was a man who surprised me with a disarming question:
“Are you the dentist’s son from the Bronx who went to such-and-such School?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered, caught off guard (and on guard) by the anonymous and personal recognition harkening back to childhood.
“Well,” he continued, “it’s been decades since we grew up, and many in the neighborhood have gone on to various lifestyles. But you—you have become a real mensch!”
Stunned and pleased, I felt validated and rewarded for my earnest efforts to become a person of value and integrity, unashamed to be recognized and lauded. Though it is not by works that we merit God’s grace, our works do amount to something. I know that God is always looking—but the guy from the Bronx surprised me with pleasure and a sense of security.
In the lore of Jewish families, there is a legendary stereotype of an old Jewish grandparent trying to comprehend the import of various current events and political happenings. To simplify, the Jew boils things down to a basic question to ferret out the bottom line: “Is it good for the Jews?” This question seeks to cut through ambiguities to clarify actions and consequences, per one’s own interests and needs. Support and allegiance is based on how that question is answered.
Here is my version of this cut-to-the-chase question, asked regularly as I contemplate and evaluate my reactions: “Is it good for my neighbor?” The answer to this question—routinely invoked by my conscience, experiences, and guiding goal of being a mensch—gives me the moral guidance and behavioral imperatives to follow through.
— Mark Steinberg, PhD
