By Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel
CHULA VISTA, California — Socrates is famous for saying, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” If Socrates had a preferred Jewish holiday, I believe it would undoubtedly be Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. These holidays offer us an opportunity to reflect, review, and reconsider who we are, what we’ve become, and what we’ve achieved. So, what does it mean to be human? This question has stumped philosophers for ages. In the Tanakh, we find a poetic musing that prompts us to ponder our existence:
In deep contemplation, we dare to ask,
“What is man, that in him, You find task?
Or a son of mortal birth,
Why for him, do You gaze upon Earth?”
For a fleeting moment, less than angels high,
Yet with glory and honor, You grace his sky.
Crowned in magnificence, standing tall and neat,
All things You’ve placed beneath his feet.
— Job 25:6-8
The poetic Jobian passage poses a profound question about the nature of human existence, touching on themes of purpose, value, and our relationship to the Divine and to the Earth itself. The moral or message here could be interpreted in a few different ways, but one prominent takeaway is the idea of divine purpose and intrinsic value in human life.
The text acknowledges human limitations (“a son of mortal birth,” “less than angels high”) but also underscores a certain grandeur and purpose (“with glory and honor, You grace his sky”). In other words, while humans may not possess the divine qualities of angels or gods, there is still something intrinsically valuable and dignified about human life. The notion that humans are “crowned in magnificence” and have “all things placed beneath their feet” suggests a level of responsibility as well as privilege.
The moral could be a call to recognize and live up to this inherent dignity and responsibility — to understand that while we may be ‘fleeting’ and ‘mortal,’ we are also graced with abilities and opportunities that should be used wisely. It is a reminder of the balance between our limitations and our potentials, encouraging us to act in a manner that respects both our intrinsic value and our role within the broader tapestry of life.
In 1930, some chemists, skilled in statistics, calculated the chemical make-up of an average human. They translated it into simple terms: enough fat for seven bars of soap, enough iron for a medium-sized nail, and so on. But does that mean the genius of Shakespeare, Einstein, Beethoven, Moses, Jesus, Buddha, or Maimonides is worth merely 99 cents? What about you? Are you worth just 99 cents?
Fast forward to the 21st century: From a genetic standpoint, humans share much of their DNA with mice. While these chemical and genetic similarities are intriguing, should we conclude that a human being is merely the sum of their biological or chemical parts?
Though we live within the dimension of time, there’s something timeless about human existence. This becomes especially relevant on Rosh Hashanah, a day that reminds us of the dangers of a godless world where humans can harm others without moral repercussions.
In Dostoevsky’s “The Grand Inquisitor,” it is said that if God doesn’t exist, then everything is permitted.” This raises questions about the ethical framework of our lives and the kind of world we wish to leave behind.
One of the greatest threats to humanity is the idea that human life has no intrinsic value. We’ve seen the devastating impact of such ideologies, including the Holocaust and the loss of over 42 million lives in World War II in Europe. My father often told me that Jewish life was so cheap, that turning in a dead Jewish corpse was like bringing empty glass bottles to be recycled at the market.
The Jewish people have consistently made positive impacts around the world, offering aid in over 140 countries. As we reflect on societal changes, the fragmentation of families, and the complexities of modern life, perhaps religion can serve as a stabilizing force.
While we have more choices than ever in today’s world, our tradition and prayers offer simplicity and stability. The issues that characterize today’s family life—strained communication and increased complexity—highlight the need for the simple and consistent teachings of our faith as we navigate our complex world.