“Will I ever be as good as the old masters?” I saw this quote in a Sephko comic, a rhetorical question posed by painters from different generations in different panels before turning to an neanderthal with his cave painting saying, “I’m the best.” It’s a simple joke with a meaningful underlying idea, that we live in the shadow of those who came before us. In whatever discipline one chooses to cast their gaze, the work of some appears as both moves mankind forwards but also serves as something that in some senses must be escaped. The Western philosophical tradition still thinks in Platonic and Aristotelian terms, Western authors still pay homage to Homer and Milton. While they brought forth profound ideas in their own right, it sometimes feels like the classics limit the modern’s ability to become great; in some sense encapsulated by Ecclesiates 1:9, “What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.” Great modern minds bear the burden of envisioning something novel in an age when much of the low hanging fruit appears to have been already picked.
It’s a tragedy that not everyone will read Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’ “The Great Partnership”. It’s the kind of deeply thoughtful spiritual text that provides answers and explanations to long-debated questions of faith. In the same sense, not everyone watched Alex Trebek host “Jeopardy!.” They were very different men in their respective careers––the first, a Lord Rabbi for Jews in Britain, the second, a TV game show host. But one commonality ran, like an icefield crevasse, through the souls of both men identically: their role as visionaries. When reading “The Great Partnership” for the first time, it drew out reimaginations of Old Testament narratives from allegorical rather than literal interpretations. Drawing the reader into an experience is a mark of truly meaningful philosophy, and it’s something that Sacks understood perfectly. For many religious people, myself included, reading “The Great Partnership” provided a well-reasoned explanation for bringing down the barrier between religion and science. But Sacks’s writing style went beyond simple analysis; rather, it engaged the reader through its tone––it made me want to see the truth in his writing. For Trebek, the artistry appeared interwoven through thirty-six years hosting “Jeopardy!.” He wasn’t the first “Jeopardy!” host; that title belongs to Art Fleming, who hosted the program through two iterations between 1964 and 1979.
People can sense something sublime, that “match made in heaven,” where an experience just instinctively feels right. As the show’s emcee, Trebek evoked such a feeling in audiences for over three decades; it’s evidenced in his ability to revive a twice-canceled show into a mainstay for audiences. It’s a positive feedback loop in some senses, watching Trebek host “Jeopardy!” feels so correct because of his longevity. You come to expect the subtle nuances, the way he introduces the show’s or the particular squint of his eyes when a contestant guesses incorrectly. Even Trebek understood this, as evidenced by his meta-aware 1997 April Fool’s joke between his “Jeopardy!” and Pat Sajak’s “Wheel of Fortune,” where the two mainstay hosts swapped roles for an episode. It was meant to tease audience’s expectations, they’d observed Trebek and Sajak host their respective shows for over a decade and grew to appreciate the consistency of a familiar face in a familiar space.
In the aftershock of his passing, stories of Trebek’s influence emerge across the popular media. A recollection by Gayle Tzemach Lemmon particularly stuck with me, her retelling of her mother’s bout with cancer and how from 7:00 to 7:30 pm, “Together, we would sit on that metal-ringed bed there at the National Institutes of Health, nurses passing by, waving good night, and, for 30 uninterrupted minutes, forget everything – all the needles, all the blood tests, all the dwindling hope and the long odds – to simply watch the board and yell out answers.” His enduring presence in television allowed for “Jeopardy!” to become habitual, and for some, that thirty minute slot represented a predictable positive in a life that may have lacked stability.
In creating something, we never really understand the full impact it may have on those who receive it. I don’t imagine that Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks thought to himself, “I hope Daniel reads The Great Partnership and that it changes him”––nevertheless, it’s what occurred. Likewise, Alex Trebek likely died never knowing that his presence hosting “Jeopardy!” brought daily joy to a woman slowly dying of cancer. It’s tragic and yet beautiful, the potential one carries to bring meaning to people without being conscious of it.
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.