The Happiest Place on
Earth
Rabbi Alan Cook
Sinai Temple,
Champaign, Illinois
Kol Nidre 5778-
September 29, 2017
One of my personal interests has to do with the Disney
company. The movies, TV shows, and other
media that they produce are fine, but my true fixation is on the theme parks
that make up the Walt Disney World resort in Orlando, Florida. We take a family vacation there every few
years, and I’ve come to appreciate the way that the company’s corporate
philosophy shapes the guest experience as they roam through the so-called
“happiest place on earth.”
Now, I’ll acknowledge that some have purported that Mr.
Disney harbored some anti-Semitic sentiments, which would make him an odd
figure to focus upon in a sermon for the Jewish High Holidays. But most recent biographers have argued that
while Disney was a deeply flawed individual who was not always nice to his
employees, accusations of anti-Semitism are unfounded.[1] At any rate, Mr. Disney’s propensity
creativity and innovation are legendary, and his influence continues to be seen
not only in the wide-ranging empire that bears his name, but also throughout
American culture.
So during this High Holiday season, let us take a moment to
contemplate some of the lessons from “The Happiest Place on Earth,” and explore
how we can perhaps look to some of the company’s techniques to continue to grow
a meaningful and welcoming culture here at Sinai Temple. Moreover, let’s think about how these
insights can help us understand core Jewish values as we embark on this New
Year.
In the early 1950s, when Walt was developing Disneyland in
Anaheim, California, he would arrive home in the evening and enter his house
through the kitchen. If dinner was not
yet ready, he would take a hot dog—a “weenie,” he called it—from the icebox and
share it with his dog, Lady. He soon
realized that he didn’t have to enjoy this snack in the kitchen—wherever he
would take the weenie, Lady would follow.
Walt realized that his theme park needed similar “weenies,” enticing attractions
that quickly grab one’s attention and draw them into an immersive
experience. Cinderella’s castle or the
geodesic ball at the entrance of Epcot are two such examples, as are visibly
kinetic sights such as Dumbo the Flying Elephant or the Splash Mountain flume
ride.[2]
So what is the “weenie” that draws one in to synagogue? A number of us are undoubtedly drawn here
today by the awe and majesty of this day’s liturgy, and the power of this day
as an opportunity for reflection and teshuvah. Others may find less resonance in the words
and melodies in the machzor, but come
to Temple because the “weenie” of tradition pulls them strongly. And of course, there are some whose experience
parallels the old joke: “Moshe comes to Temple to talk to God; I come to Temple
to talk to Moshe.”
But Sinai Temple is so much more than worship services. For more than 110 years, we have served the
Jewish community of East Central Illinois as a house of prayer, a house of
study, and a house of gathering. Our current
physical plant is more than forty years old, and over the years has seen us
come together both for simchas and for sad times. We are excited to have begun the process of
updating our gathering spaces—primarily our sanctuary and pods—working with RATIO
architects to design a space suitable for our 21st century
needs. You can see some of the proposed
enhancements in the Power Point presentation playing in the foyer; please feel
free to provide constructive feedback.
All of the changes under consideration are designed to increase
accessibility and visibility, while also updating our sacred spaces to match a
contemporary aesthetic. I hope that our
community will enthusiastically support these endeavors. Like the “weenies” at Disney parks, the hope
is that an enticing environment will play a small role in encouraging people to
spend time at Sinai Temple.
But synagogues cannot rely on mere gimmicks; we are not
primarily in the business of entertainment or “infotainment.” We’re not going to construct Disney-esque
“weenies” like neon signs, roller coasters, or 6-foot tall anthropomorphized
animals. Still, Rabbi Jody and I, along with the rest of the staff and
leadership of Sinai Temple understand that a Temple can’t just rest on what one
sees and experiences within its four walls.
We continue to strive to create and maintain programming that fulfills a
wide range of Jewish needs. And beyond
programming, beyond tangibles, we are working constantly to build
community.
In Parashat Nitzavim toward
the end of Deuteronomy [which we read just a few Shabbatot ago/ which we will
read from tomorrow morning], we are reminded that the covenant God has forged
with the Israelite community extends to every participant within that society:
from the chieftains and officials to the woodcutters and water-drawers.[3] Torah is meant not only for those who are
present listening to Moses while he delivers his valedictory speech, but for
those generations of Israelites who had come before, and for every generation
yet to be. There have been myriads of
Jewish people throughout time touched by the history, laws, and traditions of
our sacred text. In a similar vein—not
to diminish the importance of Torah by drawing parallels to something more
frivolous—millions of individuals pass through the gates of Disneyland, Disney
World, and the company’s international parks each year, and the company strives
to establish a program and a culture that will be inviting to all. As Walt said in his speech at the opening of
Disneyland in 1955, “To all who come to this happy place;
welcome. Disneyland is your land. Here age relives fond memories of the
past…and here youth may savor the challenge and promise of the future.”[4]
For any Temple—for
any institution, really—to withstand the test of time, it must be able to speak
to a multitude of interests and needs on a variety of levels. Disney’s words mirror the prophetic vision
found in the book of Joel: “Your old shall dream dreams and your youth shall
see visions.”[5] Ampliifying the call of Nitzavim, the call of
Disney, and the call of Joel, we will continue to offer our wide range of
programs and worship opportunities. We
remain firmly rooted in our past, grateful to those who laid the foundation,
physically and philosophically, for this holy congregation. And we ever strive for the future, adapting
and innovating to meet modern challenges.
We will not be able to undertake every program or satisfy every desire,
but we will do our best to meet the challenge of serving as a kehillah
kedosha- a sacred community in which we can depend upon one another.
If you spend long
enough immersed in a tight-knit community, you begin to develop a certain
vocabulary, and a certain appreciation of the customs and cultures of that
group. As an example, here at Sinai, many
of us readily recognize that ETM refers to the Egalitarian Traditional Minyan,
that “the pods” refer to the gathering spaces adjacent to our sanctuary, and that
the annual Labor of Love is our Labor Day project to spruce up our building and
grounds. Disney, too, has developed a
specialized culture among its cast members (as employees are known). For instance, “cast members” are asked never
to point to a location or item with just one finger. A single finger is rude in some cultures, and
Disney welcomes many international guests each year. Furthermore, two fingers are easier to see, and
are interpreted in a more friendly way.[6] Cast members are also urged to do everything
in their power to make magic for guests.
This means trying to avoid saying “no,” and making sure not to get
flustered by seemingly impertinent requests or questions.
It may be
apocryphal, but many claim that a question cast members frequently field is,
“What time is the three o’clock parade?” It seems like a simple question with a
straightforward answer, but the cast members are trained to stretch themselves
beyond the simple response of “three o’clock.” They try to consider what
information the guest is really seeking—things like, “when do I need to line up
for the three o’clock parade?” or “what is the best viewing spot?” or “when
will it pass by me?” By anticipating a guest’s needs, the cast members
can reassure them, and help to turn a good vacation experience into a stellar
one.[7]
In Judaism, perhaps,
the corollary to the “three o’clock parade question” is, perhaps, “What does
Judaism say about…” Yes, we have certain
understandings that are established as halacha,
received Jewish law. Other practices are
enshrined as minhag, longstanding customs codified by the
rabbis in Talmud, midrash, responsa, and other compendia. But the Torah teaches us that we have the
power to parse our own three o’clock parade questions. It attempts to demystify our tradition by
emphasizing that all of the teachings of our heritage are accessible to anyone
who is willing to seek them out. [Parashat Nitzavim/ Our Torah portion for
tomorrow] notes that God’s instruction “is not too wondrous for you…lo ba-shamayim hi—it is not in the
heavens, that you must send someone up to retrieve it and bring it back for
you.”[8] Rather, each of us has the power individually
to engage with the sacred messages of scripture. This, to me, is another element of what makes
our congregation so special: understanding the diversity of backgrounds from
which our members are drawn, we have established an unwritten social compact
that allows Jews with wildly different practices of kashrut, or understandings of the liturgy, or beliefs in a
God-concept, or observance of Shabbat and festivals to nonetheless gather under
one roof and treat one another with respect.
Keeping our Temple
running, both in regard to our physical plant and in terms of our programming,
requires the contributions of many individuals.
In addition to Rabbi Jody and me, we have a small but dedicated corps of
employees who ensure that everything functions smoothly. Kathy Douglas and Roxanna Davison in the
office, bookkeeper Natalie Peterson, music director Martha Alwes (whom we wish
a refuah shleima), and custodian John
Thompson are all an integral part of our operations. Of course, I cannot and do not discount the
contributions of so many congregants who serve on the board, participate in
committees, and come forward when called upon to host an oneg, or cook for a
meal of condolence, or prepare a bulk mailing, or wash tablecloths, or build
the sukkah, or any of the numerous other tasks that may arise over the course
of the year.
Shortly after
Disneyland opened in 1955, Walt Disney became dismayed that certain spatial limitations
within the park threatened to disrupt the guests’ experience of the fantasy.
Princesses could sometimes be seen wandering through the Wild West
section of the park, or cowboys were spotted taking a break in Tomorrowland.
For the construction of Walt Disney World in Florida, the park was
designed so that the guest experience essentially begins on the second floor.
An entire series of tunnels, known as utilidors, accessible only to
employees, allows all of the technical work needed to create the magic to take
place out of view of the public.
In a similar vein, a
great deal of the Sinai Temple magic unfolds behind the scenes, in ways that
are not always obvious to the casual observer.
No, we don’t have a network of underground tunnels or secret passageways—just
diligent individuals who care about maintaining our sacred home.
Reverend Erin Wathen,
a blogger who is pastor of a Disciples of Christ Church in Olathe, Kansas,
notes that her church, like Sinai Temple, has a number of laypeople who work
behind-the-scenes to ensure that the congregation functions smoothly. There is a tendency to refer to such
individuals as volunteers, but Wathen notes that volunteering is probably not
the correct terminology for what people do at a church (or a synagogue).
As she writes, “To
volunteer means that you are an outside resource, stepping in to help an
organization in need. Volunteering is what we do when we pick up trash at the
park, or build a house with Habitat, or help sort food at the local food
pantry. In other
words, it’s what you do at a place that is important to you–but not at a place
that belongs to you…. The notion is rooted in consumer culture, in
which we can swoop in and give or take a measure that we deem fit, and then
dart out again feeling we have done our part. We do a disservice to our
faith…when we reduce [this sort of work] to something you can mark on a time
card.”[9]
Wathen suggests a language of “discipleship” or “deacons,”
both of which are much more likely to find root in the vocabulary of a church than
they are in a temple. But whatever we
call this service, we should recognize it for what it is—a service of the
heart, a dedication to and investment in the future of this holy place. I hope that each of us will continue to seek
ways during the coming year to give of their ideas, their time, their energy,
and their resources in this spirit of service and devotion in order to secure
the continued success of Sinai Temple and her programs from generation to
generation—l’dor vador.
Ultimately, that call to service is the call of Nitzavim that
I quoted earlier. It’s at the core of
Isaiah’s prophecy, which we read tomorrow morning, asking us to share our bread
with the hungry, lend a hand to the poor, clothe the naked, and show compassion
to our fellow human beings.[10] It’s the message of the Book of Jonah, which
we will hear tomorrow afternoon. It’s
the lesson of this High Holiday season and, I’d argue, the lesson of Disney
corporate culture: life is more holy, more rewarding, more worthwhile, and more
fun when we are engaged with others, when we give selflessly of ourselves, when
we work to ensure that others can experience magic.
We do not afflict ourselves on this Yom Kippur, this Day of
Atonement, in order to make ourselves unhappy and resentful of this day. If we spend all our time tonight and tomorrow
obsessively counting the minutes until we can break our fast, then we’ve missed
the point of this day. Instead, we should
seek to heighten our awareness of the world around us, and our role within
it. We seek to be inspired toward
immersive involvement in doing acts of love, justice, and mercy. If we can make this our focus, we can make
this world a bit more magical, and we can make ourselves worthy of being
inscribed in the book of life, blessing, and peace. And then anywhere we may find ourselves can
truly be “the happiest place on earth.”
[1]
See, for instance, this article by Rafael Medoff written for the David S. Wyman
Institute for Holocaust Studies: http://new.wymaninstitute.org/2014/01/was-walt-disney-antisemitic/,
retrieved September 24, 2017, or this article by Jessica Derschowitz for EW,
speaking about the PBS documentary on Disney’s life: http://ew.com/article/2015/08/03/walt-disney-anti-semitic-pbs-american-experience/,
also retrieved September 24, 2017
[2]
The concept of the “weenie” is well documented.
See, for instance, http://www.themainstreetmouse.com/2013/05/13/whats-a-weenie/. Retrieved September 25, 2017.
[3]
See Parashat Nitzvaim, Deuteronomy 29:9-30:20.
The Reform movement utilizes this portion as the reading for Yom Kippur
morning.
[4]
Remarks delivered by Walt Disney at the grand opening of Disneyland to the
public on Sunday, July 17, 1955. A full
account can be found in numerous sources, including: https://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=walt+disney%27s+disneyland+opening+day+speech+july+17+1955&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiN5-yAzsXWAhWn34MKHU_MCxo4ChDVAghmKAU&biw=1024&bih=641
[5]
Joel 2:28
[6]
See http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/two-finger-disney-point_us_55a3f000e4b0b8145f731d99
for a brief discussion of this.
[7]
See https://disneyinstitute.com/blog/2015/06/how-would-you-respond-if-asked-what-time-is-the-3-oclock-parade/
for a further discussion of this phenomenon
[8]
Deuteronomy 30:11-12
[9]
Rev. Erin Wathen, “Your Church Does Not Need Volunteers,” posted on April 20,
2017 at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/irreverin/2017/04/church-not-need-volunteers/
[10]
Paraphrasing Isaiah 58:7
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