I’ve just come back from Leeds where yesterday we held a memorial service for one of the members of the local Jewish community. His was an interesting life. Born into a working class family, he took over a small family business and turned it into a large concern. He was active in Jewish affairs, but he was dedicated no less to the wider community of Leeds. He worked for its art gallery and the Yorkshire cricket school and helped create the Leeds piano competition. He built a tropical garden in one of the city’s parks, and gave the local hospital its first body scanner. He was a highly committed Jew, but he also helped save the local church and supported Christian causes as well as his own.

I tell this story is because the most compelling tutorials I’ve ever had in what makes a life worthwhile came through moments like this – funerals and memorial services. It’s an odd thing, but I never heard anyone praise the deceased for the magnificent car he drove, the splendid clothes she wore, or the exotic holidays they took. The people most mourned are those who enhanced the lives of others. They were kind, helpful; they had a sense of their responsibilities. When you needed them, they were there. The good we do lives after us, and it’s the most important thing that does. I learned from these occasions that happiness has little to do with what we own. It’s the ability to look back on a life and say: I lived for certain values. I gave. I made a difference to someone else’s life.

Tomorrow is the start of December, which has become our annual festival of shopping. Christmas is on its way; so is Hanukkah. They’ve both become times when we buy presents to give others, and there’s something beautiful about that. But when I think back to the presents I received, the pleasure they gave lasted perhaps a week, and then they joined all the other objects in the cupboard. I can hardly remember what they were, now. But there’s one gift we receive from family or friends we don’t forget: the chance to see the ideals for which they live, and the sacrifices they make for the sake of others. Those are life-changing moments. So in the weeks to come think of the other kind of gift we can give people: the kind word, the healing gesture, the generous deed. There are some things you can’t buy in shops, and sometimes they are the best gifts of all.

© Copyright Office of the Chief Rabbi 2004 - all rights reserved. Reproduction of this Web site, in whole or in part, in any form or medium without express written permission from the Office of the Chief Rabbi is prohibited.