In the past year, there have been a disturbing amount of scandals involving Jews. There seems to be a pattern developing. The frequency seems to increasing. I think we, as an American Jewish community, have to assume our share of responsibility. Thank God it’s Yom Kippur, because Yom Kippur is a time for us to reflect and redirect our collective soul.

For me, the pattern started last year with the Agriprocessers scandal in Omaha. CEO Sholom Rubashkin was arrested for harboring illegal aliens. A community of Jews, running one of the largest kosher meat businesses, violated labor laws and was accused of mistreatment of cattle. The event exposes our damaged collective soul. As Jews, we are all responsible for one another. It continued with Bernard L. Madoff. He was sentenced to 150 years in prison, the maximum for his crimes. He conducted the largest, longest and most widespread Ponzi scheme in history. This event exposed our damaged collective soul. We are all responsible for one another. Then came Levy Izhak Rosenbaum. He was arrested as the matchmaker for human organ trafficking. He had been trafficking human organs for over a decade. And this event exposed our damaged collective soul. We are all responsible for one another. I wish we could write all these cases off as individual cases of ethical breeches without relationship to one another—without relationship to us! We all want to believe that these Jews have nothing to do with us. That’s them—orthodox Jews or New Jersey orthodox Jews or in Bernie Madoff’s case, well he isn’t really affiliated with Judaism, so he’s not really Jewish or whatever. They’re Jews. We’re Jews. This is our problem. For better and for worse, we are all part of one American Jewish community. And we are failing. We are failing hard. Bernie Madoff, Agriprocessors, the human organ trafficking, they are products of our American Jewish community and we need to take responsibility. Let’s take a Yom Kippur moment to reflect about our part in this mess and start the process of repairing the process of tikun.

These three examples are more than a few isolated incidents of Jews having bad judgment. Agriprocessers was a community of Jews violating American and Jewish ethical standards. Bernie Madoff is the latest of a long list of white collar criminals who come before him. Levy Yitzhack Rosenbaumm, the human organ trafficker, was working for years, with dozens of observant Jews in his criminal operation. These incidents were not singular occurrences; they are symptoms of a damaged American Jewish Soul.

How did this happen? When we first came to America, it was the Goldene Medina—the land of opportunity. As a community, we succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. We sent our sons and daughters to college and graduate school, we worked the American system like it’s never been worked. Part grit, part mazel, part being in the right place at the right time, part guiding light. It was beautiful. And at the end of the day, we became out-America’d the Americans! And that’s all good. America is a wonderful climate for the flowering of the human soul. America was conceived in liberty, and born in freedom. We have a tradition of kindness and hospitality. We have a deep thirst for knowledge and truth. However, when we embrace America, we embrace the good and the not-so-good. It’s becoming more and more clear in the past year, that America is undergoing a crisis of over-consumption.

Amitai Etzioni, a professor at Columbia University and the George Washington University, was a student of Martin Buber. He explains the problem from his perspective: “A culture in which the urge to consume dominates the psychology of citizens is a culture in which people will do most anything to acquire the means to consume . . . ”  This unrestrained, indeed communally-driven impulse to buy is, he argues, a prime cause of our current financial malaise. We all want too much, and will fill our days, contort our lives, to be certain that we get it.´

At the end of 2008, the average outstanding credit card debt for households that have a credit card was $10,679. Many of us are above average. At the end of 2008, Americans' credit card debt reached $972.73 billion. Our national debt is $11.8 trillion. America is undergoing a financial crisis. Economists like Etzioni and others blame the financial collapse on over-consumption. As American Jews, we are trapped into the American system of over-consumption. We make consumption our way of life. We seek our spiritual satisfaction and our ego satisfaction in consumption. And we work around the clock to feed our culture of consumption. Americans and American Jews work more hours and take the least vacation than almost every other culture. The French work twenty-eight per cent fewer hours per person than Americans, and the Germans put in twenty-five per cent fewer hours. Compared with Europeans, a higher percentage of American adults work; we work more hours per week, and we work more weeks per year.

The scandals we are witnessing by Jews, are not individual ethical violations, they are a consequence of our damaged collective Jewish soul in need of spiritual repair. Too many of us, myself included, are consuming out of control. Thank God it’s Yom Kippur.

On Yom Kippur, we show up in synagogue on Yom Kippur, as the anti-consumer. A consumerist is one who bases their identity and spiritual satisfaction on consumption and the accumulation of material possessions. We show up to Yom Kippur services, empty handed. We’re forbidden to consume—anything. We don’t consume food, we don’t consume products. We show up with sneakers and a white shroud. On Yom Kippur, the Sabbath of the Sabbath, we leave the world alone. We abstain from all consumption. This Yom Kippur, let’s use this consumption hiatus to bring us toward a more soulful Jewish approach to our environment. Yom Kippur is called Shabbat Shabbaton. It’s the Shabbat of the Shabbat. On Shabbat, we stop to reflect and re-soul— vayinafash, we reinvigorate our souls. This Yom Kippur, let’s reinvigorate our collective Jewish soul. We have to replace our consumer-focused mentality with a more soulful alternative. Let’s start a new path, we’re going to begin the project of Soulful Jewish Living.

Soulful Jewish living has three basic essentials: natural living, interdependent living and simple living. One step toward more soulful living is reconnecting with our natural environment. It’s hard to do in Houston, but it’s a necessary part of soulful living—to connect with our natural environment.  The further we advance in technology, the further away we get from humanity, from our bodies and our souls. Ben Zoma taught: How many labors did the first human being have to engage in before he obtained bread to eat! He plowed, he sowed, he reaped; he stacked the sheaves, threshed the grain, winnowed the chaff, selected the good ears, ground them, sifted the flour, kneaded the dough and baked. And only then did he eat. Whereas I get up and find all these things before me . . .”

When we disconnect ourselves from the earth, we disconnect ourselves from our spiritual source.

Judaism was founded and conceived in antiquity, and revolves around sunsets and sunrises and agricultural seasons. The Talmud teaches: “Any city that that doesn’t have greenery, a learned person, a Talmud chacham, is not permitted to live.”

It’s always a great teaching moment when someone asks—why doesn’t Shabbat start at the same time every week? Candle lighting is 6:32 this week. What’s that about? Judaism lives in nature. Shabbat starts when the sun goes down. As Americans and Houstonians, we live in an unnatural automated, environment. In order to replace our consumer mentality with a more soulful alternative, we need to experience nature more. Ya’akov Fichman, a celebrated Israeli poet wrote, “Anyone who draws near to nature, draws near to God.” Maimonides, our 11^th century scholar, writes, “In order to serve God, one needs access to the enjoyment of the beauties of nature . . . For all these are essential to the spiritual development of even the holiest people.” Ann Frank, our teacher and spiritual master, writes, “The best remedy for those who are unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only them does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature. As long as this exists, and it certainly always will, I know that then there will always be comfort for every sorrow . . . And I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles.” I pray that she’s right, as we grapple with our crisis of the spirit—striving for soulful Jewish living. More natural living. That’s number one.

Number two. The second way that we can begin to balance our consumerism toward Soulful Jewish Living is by living more interdependently with the environment. In a consumerist perspective, it’s all one-sided, it’s all about the taking. A story is told about the late Lubavitcher Rebbe. “Someone had written to the Rebbe in a state of deep depression.  The letter went something like this.  ‘I would like the Rebbe’s help.  I wake up each day sad and apprehensive.  I can’t concentrate.  I find it hard to pray.  I keep the commandments, but I find no spiritual satisfaction.  I go to the synagogue but I feel alone.  I begin to wonder what life is about.  I need help.’ ”

The Rebbe wrote a brilliant reply that did not use a single word.  All he did was this: he took a red pen and he circled the first word of every sentence and sent the letter back.  The disciple understood.  The Rebbe had answered his question and set him on the path to spiritual recovery.  At the center of every red circle was the word, “I.” I wake up, I can’t concentrate, I find no satisfaction” A soulful life shifts from the “I” at the center to relationship at the center.

The sacred environment of the land of Israel teaches this lesson. There are two connected bodies of water in Israel, Lake Kinneret in the north, and the Dead Sea in the south. These bodies of water are connected by the Jordan River. The two lakes could not be more different. Lake Kinneret is filled with sweet living waters teeming with fish, while the Dead Sea is filled with salt and barren. What is the reason for their difference? Lake Kinneret gives as well as receives, the river flowing into her from the north and she, in turn, spilling the river southward. While the Dead Sea only receives water, from above, never gives. There is no outgoing flow. She has no life. Taking and taking simply isn’t sustainable. A soulful Jewish life includes consuming and recycling, balance, decreasing our ecological footprint, treading lightly on the earth. We receive and we give back. We are environmentally aware and we are responsible. Walk humbly and tread lightly. That’s the soulful Jewish stance is interdependence. That’s number two.

Number three. The third essential characteristic of soulful Jewish living is simplicity. The consumer culture is enamored by complexity. Complexity seems intelligent and valuable. Noise and clutter and business can be a great cover-up for lack of life and lack of soul. All my life, I’ve been trying to live up to my grandfather’s example. My grandfather, Abraham Freedman was a simple Jew. He lived in the same house in Boropark his whole life. He owned a fruit stand. He went to shul every morning, sat in the same seat. He had a seat, his siddur, his tallis and tefillin, his book stand that he built himself in his basement workshop. After shul, he walked the same route home everyday. He stopped into the cigar store, they said, Good morning Mr. Freedman. He said, Good morning, Sam. He stopped at the bank, they said, Good morning Mr. Freedman. Good morning, Frank. He stopped at the newspaper stand. Jimmy had a paper waiting for him, and change for his dollar ready. Good morning Mr. Freedman. Good morning Jimmy. His life was a children’s book. Simple and beautiful. I’m so far away. E. F. Schumacher summarized it by saying, "Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex . . . It takes a touch of genius—and a lot of courage—to move in the opposite direction." Our sage Ben Zoma teaches, “Who is considered a rich man? One who is satisfied with what he has, as it is written (Tehillim 128): ‘When you eat from the work of your hands you will be fortunate and it will be well with you’—fortunate in this world and well with you in the World-to-Come.” — Ben Zoma (Avot 4:1)

Ben Zoma teaches that even if we become virtuous and ethical, so long as we lack the capacity to be content, we won’t be able to live a balanced spiritual life. The drive for consumer excess repels soulful Jewish living. Let’s simplify our lives and simplify our needs. The greatest Chasidic master, the Baal Shem Tov writes, “The wholesome simplicity of a simple Jew touches upon the utterly simple essence of G-d.”

The book “Tuesday’s with Morrie” came and went. Let’s bring it back for a moment. When Morrie was in a very advanced stage of his disease—actually only a few weeks away from death—he was in bed virtually all the time and breathed only with the aid of a respirator. Mitch asked him: “What would you do if you could live just one more day in perfect health? How would you spend that day?

"Twenty-four hours?" Morrie responds.

"Twenty-four hours."

"Let's see—I'd get up in the morning, do my exercises, have a lovely breakfast of sweet rolls and tea, go for a swim, then have my friends come over for a nice lunch. I'd have them come one or two at a time so we could talk about their families, their issues, talk about how much we mean to each other. Then I'd like to go for a walk, in a garden with some trees, watch their colors, watch the birds, take in the nature that I haven't seen in so long now. In the evening, we'd all go together to a restaurant with some great pasta, maybe some duck—I love duck—and then we'd dance the rest of the night. I'd dance with all the wonderful dance partners out there, until I was exhausted. And then I'd go home and have a deep, wonderful sleep."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

And Mitch Albom writes, "It was so simple. So average. I was actually a little disappointed. I figured he'd fly to Italy or have lunch with the President or romp on the seashore or try every exotic thing he could think of. After all these months, lying there, unable to move a leg or a foot—how could he find perfection in such an average day?

Then I realized this was the whole point."

That’s number three. If we’re going to break out of our culture of consumer excess, we’re going to have to start to simplify our lives, and focus on our priorities. Hans Hoffman writes, “The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak.”

My friends, on this Yom Kippur, we pause to consider our lives. We accept responsibility for the bad behavior of our fellow Jews. We accept responsibility for losing sight of a balanced soulful path. We accept responsibility for over consuming. We accept responsibility for our selfishness. We accept responsibility for wanting more and more. We acknowledge that these sins have contributed toward the damage of our collective soul.

Ribono shel Olam, Slach lanu ki chatanu, m’chal lanu ke fashanu. As an American Jewish community, we have sinned grievous sins against You and against humanity. Give us the hope and strength to turn toward You with soulful Jewish living. Thank you for you blessings. Help us live in harmony with the world You have created. Guide us to appreciate the beauty and grandeur of the world in which we live. Give us the courage to embrace simplicity and contentment. And in that way: we will grow closer to You—living sacred lives filled with meaning and holiness. And together let us all say: Amen.

© Ranon Teller