• Op-ed

The tactical term “left of bang” is a reference to the part of a timeline before a major event occurs. Getting to the left of bang is military speak for being proactive or trying to prevent a “bang” from happening. In theory, one could experience a pleasant bang-a piñata spilling candy, perhaps – but most likely, especially in a military setting, anything that goes “bang” brings bad news. Hence the desire to focus on preventing the event or minimizing its impact. The ideal of being left of bang has moved the conversation in military personnel support away from operational stress control-responding during and after a crisis-toward resilience. The ability to be flexible in the face of adversity can be beneficial. Although the armed forces might create especially trying demands for their people, just being alive right now offers its own set of challenges and tests. Building resilience allows us to maintain our responsiveness and endurance. However, it also keeps us tethered to the “bangs” of life, focusing on surviving instead of thriving. Aspiring to maintain well-being regardless of external circumstances is a lofty life goal for anyone, but what is the U.S. military if not a place one can “aim high?” In military chaplaincy circles, we refer to the capacity for thriving as “Spiritual Fitness” (or, in the Navy, “Spiritual Readiness”). The spirit under discussion is the human spirit. In a Jewish context, we might transpose the term nefesh – the animating force of the physical body. Fitness or readiness is an ongoing pursuit for service members, and it should be no different in a spiritual context. Instead of cardio, planks, and push-ups, spiritual fitness involves connections, values, and views. There are various components that comprise spiritual fitness or readiness, but they can be categorized into three main relationships: a person to other people, a person to something larger than themself, and a person to their own values and beliefs. In a military setting, a chaplain might encourage a soldier to consider how they relate to their peers and leaders as well as what they owe to an enemy combatant. There might be discussion about the history of the command or the Corps and how the actions of today’s Marines reflect upon it. A Navy chaplain might counsel a coast guardsman on how their definition of forgiveness might help or hinder their own healing. It’s so ingrained for chaplains to emphasize the universal nature of the spiritual fitness concept that my Jewish colleagues and I were a bit stumped by how we might describe it in Jewish terms. In conversation, we realized that there are similarities between the pursuit of spiritual fitness and the practice of Mussar, Jewish virtue-based ethical instruction. Both acknowledge that a person can become better through intentional learning, examination, and practice. Another Jewish parallel to spiritual fitness comes from the teaching of Shimon the Righteous, who taught, “the world is sustained by three things — Torah, avodah, and gemilut hasadim” ( Pirkei Avot 1:2). The three categories of this ancient wisdom mirror the findings of those who study spiritual fitness today. Gemilut hasadim, acts of loving kindness, is a guide for how we ought to relate to others. Our connection to something bigger than ourselves is the idea of avodah , worship or prayer. Whether we are relating to God, sharing words and wishes with the larger Jewish world, or following in the spiritual steps of our ancestors, prayer can be a way of connecting outside of our small selves. While living according to Torah can mean different things to different members of the Jewish community, Reform Jews can certainly find the roots of our contemporary values and beliefs within the collected texts of our people. We are sustained, and so is the world, when we nourish the ties that connect us to the person we want to be, the people around us, and that which is beyond us. We cannot predict nor control the bangs of life, but we can be prepared to clean up the mess – or collect the candy that comes from them.