What is happiness?

Since you did not serve the L-rd, your G-d, with joy (simcha).”

Thus concludes the Divine Admonition, which we read in this week’s Torah portion. Remarkably, whether G-d blesses us or curses us appears to hinge not only on whether we serve Him, but on whether we serve Him with joy (simcha). Though the common translation of simcha is joy, we will try to achieve a deeper understanding.

What makes you joyous, or happy? Or unhappy? What we think is the answer is usually far from it.

Research shows that many people walk around with the assumption, though they may deny it if asked directly, that if only they had a Tesla, the newest iPhone or designer clothes — in other words, more money — their happiness levels would increase (Myers, 2000). But King Solomon, wisest of all men, teaches that “a lover of money never has his fill of money” (Ecclesiastes 5:9). Beyond an income threshold necessary to meet basic needs of food, security and shelter, research confirms that additional wealth does not lead to greater happiness (Ng, 2013; Howell & Howell, 2008).

To be clear, the Torah does recognize that simcha can derive from economic benefit. An analysis of the role of simcha on the holiday of Sukkot in relation to Sukkot’s agricultural and spiritual themes, as well as an exploration of the difference between the Hebrew terms sasson and simcha would shed more light on this, but is beyond my present purview. Suffice to say that the Torah’s view of simcha stemming from economic benefit is similar to the research: the provision of basic needs engenders simcha, but increased wealth beyond that does not increase simcha.

Coming from a different angle, Pirkei Avot, Ethics of the Fathers (2:7) teaches: “The more property, the more anxiety.”

One reason is that with more possessions, the more one stands to lose. Thus, one needs to invest in more security and protection for one’s assets. In addition, even if one ignores the possibility of loss or damage, one needs to manage more issues, be it insurance, tax complexities or something as mundane as plumbing issues. Any homeowner can relate to this.

As Dr. David Pelcovitz points out in Life in the Balance (p. 23), the dictionary definition of happiness is quite telling. One definition is “good luck,” based on the root word in Middle English “hap,” which connotes “luck” or “chance.” Words such as happenstance, haphazard, or hapless all share the characteristic of something being beyond our control, or “just happening.”

By contrast, Judaism assumes that we can exercise some control over our emotions, as challenging as that might sound. In discussing the tenth commandment, “Do not be jealous,” commentators Ibn Ezra and Sefer HaChinuch address the question of whether one can control a feeling. Ultimately, their answers will help us recognize what simcha truly is and how we can try to achieve it.

Can we actually control our gut emotional reactions?

Sefer HaChinuch (416) says no. But, using a behavioral approach, we can control how much that initial gut reaction holds sway over us going forward. For example, if one sees an inappropriate image on a billboard or one’s phone, it’s true that a reactionary feeling of sexual attraction may be out of our control. However, one can control subsequent behavior, which will either amplify or decrease the original emotion. Will one sneak a second look? Will one install a filter on one’s phone?

Alternatively, Ibn Ezra (Exodus 20:14) suggests a cognitive model; namely, if we meditate deeply enough on how our neighbor’s possessions are irrelevant to our lives, we will have no desire for them, just as we have no desire to own Bill Gates’ private yacht, since it’s so removed from our reality. Of course, for most objects of our desire, cognitive adjustment is not an overnight revolution but a lifelong effort, and can only be effective in incremental, baby steps.

Dr. Lisa Feldman Barrett, neuroscientist and author of How Emotions are Made: The Secret Life of the Brain, argues that, for the most part, we absolutely can influence our emotional state. Our emotions don’t just happen to us, but are the product of how we train ourselves to view things around us.

“In every waking moment, your brain uses past experience, organized as concepts, to guide your actions and give your sensations meaning. When the concepts involved are emotion concepts, your brain constructs instances of emotion.”

The training of ourselves that Dr. Barrett refers to, the choices we must make to shape our emotional experience, may very well be difficult. Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski notes that to achieve simcha takes work! “Ivdu et Hashem b’simcha, Serve G-d with simcha.” Ivdu, which in this context means “serve,” stems from the Hebrew root avad, to work.

This verse has been so popularized as a song that people jump up and down and don’t always think about the plain meaning of the verse!

Rabbi Twerski teaches that questioning how G-d can command us to be “happy/b’simcha” stems from a misunderstanding. We think happiness is dependent on external factors; namely, happiness is when good things are happening and sadness is when bad things are happening. True simcha, though, comes from our own elevation of our human spirit.

The most depressing feeling, R. Twerski teaches, is futility, while the most invigorating feeling is accomplishment in the service of a higher purpose.

Accomplishment, however, is not defined by the end product of a high grade, an award, or a successful business deal. The Torah’s idea of accomplishment is defined by the process, not the end game. R. Twerski quotes numerous musar and chasidic sources which teach that, whether through Torah, prayer, charity or acts of kindness, the ultimate goal in Judaism is to draw closer to G-d. Yet, of course, we never reach G-d! As such, we see that the Torah sees our progress — any choice to engage in meaningful spiritual activity beyond our own needs — as inherently valuable.

Thus, even in terrible straits, there are choices we can make about how to react.

Whom do we blame (or not)?

Whom do we yell at (or not)?

The choices we make can give us simcha even in the darkest places. In the words of Viktor Frankl:

“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

Elsewhere, Frankl writes, “We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

Let’s draw this down to something more concrete and practical. What are some spiritually-oriented phenomena that can bring us simcha?

Relationships.

The primary finding of the Harvard Study of Adult Development, going on 85 years strong (one of the longest studies in the history of social sciences), is that deep, fulfilling relationships are the strongest predictor of happiness. As Ecclesiastes teaches, two people are better off together than alone, and right from the get-go of creation, G-d embedded marriage as the ideal life trajectory. How to nurture one’s relationships — because they, too, take work — is an essential topic, also beyond my purview here.

Metzudat David (Proverbs 15:30) comments that there is no simcha comparable to that of the resolution of doubts. We all are familiar with the stresses involved in making major life decisions, whether it’s choosing a gap-year program, a spouse, or where to live. Once we have wholeheartedly made a decision, we can move forward with great energy that was inaccessible during the stressful decision-making process.

Integrity.

Psalms (97:11) teaches that le-yishrei lev simcha, literally, people who are “straight of heart” have simcha. This can refer to people of integrity. When someone preaches one thing but does another, that creates a psychological burden, an inner tension, otherwise termed as cognitive dissonance. The same is true if someone relates a story but changes some details to make himself look better. Convicted criminals most certainly have limited simcha, but even telling a white lie can chip away at our simcha. As the Talmud teaches, a true Torah scholar (talmid chacham) is one whose internal world matches his external actions (Yoma 72b).

Giving.

There is a special mitzvah to be in a state of simcha on holidays. Maimonides teaches (Shevitat Yom Tov 6:18) that this simcha is achieved by giving to our loved ones, to each family member according to what is meaningful to him or her.

Beyond that, one should make sure to share his meal with — or otherwise provide a meal for — people without built-in support systems, be they orphans, widows, divorcees or adult singles.

One who neglects to do so while making an elaborate Yom Tov meal only for family, Maimonides admonishes, is not pursuing an elevated simcha shel mitzvah, but a base desire to satisfy his gut.

Rabbi Twerski tells an apocryphal story which has exploded in pop psychology, the widely referenced concept of “fish-love.” “Someone asks a fisherman, ‘Young man, why are you eating that fish?’ The young man says, ‘Because I love fish.’ He says, ‘Oh. You love the fish. That’s why you took it out of the water, killed it and boiled it. Don’t tell me you love the fish. You love yourself, and because the fish tastes good to you; therefore, you took it out of the water and killed it and boiled it.”

Rabbi Twerski concludes that true love is a love of giving, not of receiving.

Is there way we can test whether something is a source of genuine simcha versus worldly “happiness”?

Rabbi Avraham Pam suggests that we should pay attention to how we feel once the event is in the rearview mirror. The pleasure associated with worldly happiness will fade, while the pleasure associated with simcha will endure.

Students have asked me, “But I can still feel happy about a filet mignon steak even two weeks after I ate it!” Maybe so, but I would argue that feeling is either dependent on past history — a memory of the steak’s delectability — or dependent on future expectations, a desire to experience that physical pleasure once again. Rarely does thinking about a steak two weeks later give one a sense of meaning or fulfillment in the present moment.

At the heart of true simcha lies a life oriented toward meaningful relationships, lasting values and spiritual purpose. These sources of inner joy are not dictated by circumstance, but by the choices we make each day: to give, to act with integrity, to pursue clarity, to cultivate deep connections.

Importantly, they are within our reach. As we stand at the threshold of a new year, praying for the hardships of the Gaza war to give way to blessings ahead, may we remember that serving G-d b’simcha is not a passive state we await, but an active commitment we can embrace. With each conscious decision, no matter how small, we move closer to a life of deeper meaning — and with it, enduring joy.

© IJN 2025