Here’s one to satisfy the sports fans. The orchestra is playing Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. There is a section just before the end, in which the bass players have no part. The bassists’ plan is to use the break to sneak in a few beers. To make sure they won’t miss their cue to resume playing, they tie a string to the conductor’s score, so that when he turns the page, they will feel a tug from the string.

However the bass players have a little too much to drink, and that’s when the conductor notices that it’s the bottom of the Ninth, the score is tied and the bassists are loaded!

On to more serious subjects. This past summer we were reminded of the tragic death of Daniel Pearl, with the showing of the movie, A Mighty Heart. To remind you, Daniel Pearl was the reporter for the Wall Street Journal who, while in Pakistan in 2002 to do a story, was kidnapped and brutally executed by extremist Moslem terrorists.

In an infamous videotape of Daniel Pearl’s final words, he declared: “My father is Jewish. My mother is Jewish. I am Jewish.” Quite an inspiring and brave choice of words. In case one isn’t sure if Daniel Pearl’s religion had anything to do with the terror imposed upon him, one only needs to read the transcript of Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, who declared: “I decapitated with my blessed right hand the head of the American Jew, Daniel Pearl.”

Some years ago, in a Hebrew High School classroom, we did an exercise. One student volunteered to answer the teacher’s questions. The first question was, “Who are you?” The student gave her name. The second question was, “Who are you?” The puzzled student replied that she is daughter of so-and-so. The third time, she identified herself as someone’s sister, then granddaughter, then friend, etc. Eventually, struggling to come up with additional ways to answer the repetitive question, she said, “I am a Jew.”

How long does it take for you to say, “I am a Jew.” When you meet a stranger, how long does it take until he/she discovers that you are a Jew? In the first sentence out of your mouth? After an hour? Never?

Let me take you on a journey to the beginning of the machzor. Too many of you are unfamiliar with what is perhaps the easiest to relate to part of the Jewish prayerbook. It is called birkhot hashachar, literally, “the blessings of the dawn.”

When we arise, we don’t talk about such lofty subjects as Creation, the gift of Torah, or the coming of the Messiah. Instead, the prayers focus on our immediate, personal reflections. Modeh Ani—I am grateful just to be alive for another day.

And it is in this section that we are called upon to say a short but remarkable statement each and every day—barukh she’asani Yisrael—Thank you God, for making me a Jew!

A note—this wasn’t the original wording of the berakhah. I’m usually not a big fan of changing the liturgy. In this case, there is something lost and something gained in the change. The original berakhah is worded she’lo asani goy—a praise of God for having not made me a non-Jew. Before you get all politically correct on me, the Rabbis meant no offense to non-Jews, nor did they think the word Goy to be offensive. It’s truly a meaningless word, except to Jews.

Something I learned from a Rabbinical School teacher years ago. Despite what we think, people who aren’t Jewish don’t actually refer to themselves as non-Jews. Anyway, what the berakhah in its original meaning says is: Thank you God for giving me the opportunity to observe the mitzvot.

Today it is more important to affirm who we are, not just deny who we are not.

In this day and age, it is more important than ever before to remind us all to stand up each day and declare, in the spirit of Daniel Pearl, “I am a Jew.” Daniel Pearl was by no means observant of Jewish law. But he was nonetheless proud to link himself with the Jewish people, declaring that he shared a history and destiny with that of all Jewish people.

I have been taught that being a Jew requires 3 B’s—belonging, believing and behaving. Not all of us do all three of them well, but most of us find an entry into Judaism through one of these B’s. Daniel Pearl teaches us the meaning of belonging, which for many is a good starting point.

Follow his lead, and begin each day by saying barukh she’asani Yisrael—I belong to the Jewish people.

Rabbi Lawrence Kushner, in The Book of Words, creatively translates yisrael as “family.” This may come as a surprise but sometimes you don’t like everyone in your family. But even if you don’t see eye to eye with them, you know that as family, you are bound to them for life.

So when it comes to the 3 B’s, it seems almost self evident that the easiest thing for a Jew to do is belong, even if he/she isn’t ready to believe in God or observe the mitzvot. Right, just be a Jew, a proud member of the community. What could be easier than that?

Today, even belonging isn’t an automatic. The simplest definition of being a Jew can no longer be taken for granted. In the past, at least we could count on Jews to marry in the faith, to join the synagogue, consider himself/herself a part of the community, strongly support Israel.

Peoplehood is on the decline. Many of us don’t even know our neighbors, let alone the Jews in our community.

A Mom speaking to her son, asked about the neighbors in his new apartment building. “To tell you the truth, Mom, the neighbors are a bit strange. The guy one floor below bangs on the ceiling all night long. The woman next door cries all night long.” Mom says: “How can you even sleep with all that noise?” Son: “Oh, that’s no problem. I don’t sleep well anyway, so I stay up all night playing my bagpipes.”

On a website of intelligent young Jewish people, called Jewcy.com, a man named Joey Kurtzman engages in an ongoing dialogue with Dr. Jack Wertheimer of the Jewish Theological Seminary. Mr. Kurtzman writes: Jews losing their unique identity in America is “no disaster, but the realization of the dream for which my great-grandparents uprooted themselves from Europe in the first place.”

Is this where we have arrived? A young, seemingly intelligent, well educated Jewish man believes that his great grandparents who emigrated from Europe would be delighted to see the end of a distinctive Jewish identity in their great grandchildren?!

This is a problem for every religious and ethnic group, not just for the Jews. More than 100 million people find their community today in cyberspace at such sites as Myspace.com. If it were a country unto itself, Myspace.com would rank in the top ten worldwide in population.

Nationwide, more Jews fail to recognize their duty to be members of the community, members of a synagogue.

Ashre Yoshvei Veitekha—the famous words we sing in the synagogue might be best translated today as: “happy are they who stay home.”

Support for Israel among American Jews is on the decline, at a time when Israel needs our support more than ever.

And against the backdrop of lower rates of affiliation and community involvement, Daniel Pearl has the wisdom and the courage to declare, “I am Jewish”—count me in!

I come back to the 3 B’s. Abraham Joshua Heschel, among others, teaches that in order to become a believer in God, one must take a “leap of faith”—leap first and then you will become a believer. Similarly, Dr. Heschel says that a “leap of action” is necessary in order to immerse oneself in Jewish life. I suggest therefore, that in 5768, it is time to take a leap of affiliation.

Start each day saying, Barukh She’asani Yisrael—blessed is God for making me a Jew. If I am not already a member of a synagogue, let me become one. If I am already a member, let me be a member who makes a difference. Let me count myself a member of our Jewish community, offering assistance to my brothers and sisters in need, and knowing I have a place to turn in my own time of need. And let me think of, and speak of, my brothers and sisters in Israel as true members of my family. They have enough enemies. Let me be a friend.

It’s not as easy as it once sounded to just belong. Yisrael, the word for ”Jew” actually comes from the Hebrew word “to struggle.” It is a struggle, but most things in life worth achieving come with a struggle.

The movie Miracle describes the gold medal victory of the 1980 US Olympic Mens Hockey team, under the coaching of the late Herb Brooks. Early in the movie, Coach Brooks asks the members of the team to answer the questions, “Who are you, and who do you play for?” One by one, the players identify themselves: “Jim Craig, Boston University; Mark Johnson, University of Wisconsin, etc.” These are the best hockey players in the country, but as a team, they are not good enough. After a particularly disappointing exhibition game, the coach keeps the players on the ice late into the night for extra practice. In the climactic scene, nearly sick from exhaustion, the captain and elder statesman, steps forward and declares: My name is Mike Eruzione, I play for the United States of America.” Now he gets it. And so do we.

We return to Daniel Pearl. He said a few more words before the videotape ended. It was a bit strange sounding. He said, “Back in the town of B’nai Barak, there is a street named after my great-grandfather, Chaim Pearl , who was one of the founders of the town.”

Daniel’s father, Judea Pearl, speculates on the meaning of his son’s final words:

To his family, Daniel is saying: “Behold I am volunteering information that no one else knows. This is to assure you that I am speaking freely; I am not defeated.”

To his captors, he says: I know that you are angry young men, who feel that you have been wronged in life. Let me tell you about another young man who was mistreated. In 1924 in Europe my great grandfather was beaten and called a dirty Jew. But he didn’t strap himself with explosives and go blow up a church. Instead he took his family to British Palestine and built a new life for himself. He didn’t kill or destroy; he built a town, planted trees, dug wells.

Whatever the criticism of Israel and the Jewish people, Daniel Pearl reminded all of us: My people are the builders of towns, not the destroyers, and I am proud to count myself among them.

Rabbi Max Weine, of blessed memory, teacher of many converts to Judaism, after the mikveh, after the beit din, in front of the Aron Kodesh, he would say to each new member of the Jewish people, of the family of Israel, “Do something Jewish everyday.” Today, it is easy, tomorrow, too, and also on Yom Kippur. Today, you know you are Jews. But, as Rabbi Max Weine told his students, “Everyday is a day to be a Jew. It’s not always easy to say it or show it. Yisrael means to struggle. Now I know why we do not count the number of Jewish people. It’s not important how many there are of them. What’s important is that you count yourself among us.