Imagine a small building topped with an unstable straw roof on which a fiddler is delicately playing. Imagine the fiddler singing of the concerns of your day — money, security, safety, and violence.
On the ground we see a typical worker worn down by the trials of his time, but holding onto hope with his love of tradition.
He tells us how his belief in traditions keeps his heart fueled. He tells us how it is this belief that comes down to him from generation upon generation keeps the hope flowing in his veins.
It is this hope that allows him to cherish a desire with anticipation, that allows him to wake each morning in the belief that things will be better.
It is these traditions that bind him to the past, ground him in the present, and prepare him for the future. For without them, the man tells us, we would be as shaky as a fiddler on the roof.
To many of you, my dear readers, this scene will remind you of the famous Broadway musical, Fiddler on the Roof. As it should.
I recently saw a Broadway Revival of the Jerome Robbins production at the Saroyan Theater in Fresno, and I was struck by how clearly it reflects our life and our world today.
Let me guide you back to the early twentieth century, while keeping one foot firmly planted in our year 2023. Let us imagine we are in the shelter of a small Ukrainian village in Imperialist Russia, but also in your home today.
We all carry with us our family traditions, even if we only take them out on holidays. These traditions remind us of our past and of those we have lost.
We all cling to hope, that is what helps us get up every morning. We tell ourselves that things may be tough right now, but they will get better.
We’ve also learned that we must review those traditions every once in a while, to see if they might be harmful. Certainly, in Fiddler on the Roof, those beloved traditions also brought much heartbreak. Prejudice and hate can sneak in and ruin not only families, but countries.
In the show, the villagers are forced to flee their homeland because they were Jewish. Today synagogues are burnt for the same reason. Russia’s hatred is currently in full view as we watch the horrible war in Ukraine.
Old traditions we felt had ended with World War II have returned with a vengeance. Prejudice and hatred should never count as traditions, that sullies a beloved word.
As I watched Fiddler on the Roof last week, I could not help but think I was watching history. Yet tomorrow, our today will become history. What would a musical of our current world events say about us?
Even the beloved songs from Fiddler on the Roof tell us much about today. Probably one of the most well-known songs, “If I Were a Rich Man,” is a tune sung in many hearts today. The gap between those with wealth to those who are barely scraping by is as big as the Grand Canyon.
I have never heard a musical with a song titled “If Only I Were a Poor.” The battle between the haves and have nots is eternal, despite promises from all our leaders.
The song “To Life” is a sentiment we all share. What do we value more highly? It would be wonderful if it could also genuinely mean To Your Life As Well.
More connections can be found with the haunting song “Sunrise, Sunset.” What parent has not looked at their grown children and lamented those lyrics? Weren’t they babies just yesterday, and indeed, wasn’t it just yesterday that we were young as well?
The passage of time is something, rich or poor, we all face. Some with more grace than others.
The song sung between the main couple, married 25 years, is called “Do You Love Me?” How many times have we wondered that of our spouse, children, country, or God? At the base, isn’t what we all want the most to be loved?
My mother used to tell me that I could fall in love with a rich man as easily as a poor man. I heard the message, just went for the poor guy. The currency I looked for was love.
Even the song “Far from the Home I love” resonates. Such a kind of love as this is an emotion we need to experience, perhaps, many times during our life.
I know I had to leave homes I loved many times, packing up a suitcase of memories and taking it with me as I went. Over the years I have packed many such suitcases. I have also learned, after many tears, that there are other homes to discover in life. Some of our greatest homes may be yet ahead of us.
When the musical ended, I was exhausted. I tapped my feet in rhythm with the wonderful music, I cried, and I laughed. I had even gotten angry. I learned that in all our lives there is a fiddler playing on our roof. In that, like it or not, we live the same life. We all want to live it well.
So, I say to all of you, L’chaim—To Life!
