Cantor's Blog

A young man walked into a drug store to make a phone call. (obviously prior to the proliferation of smart phones). He left open the door to the booth and the storekeeper could not help overhearing the conversation. The young man was obviously talking to the manager of a company asking him whether a certain position had been filled, and the answer was in the affirmative. He then proceeded to ask whether the new employee was satisfactory. To this, too, the answer was apparently – yes.

The call was finished and the young man, with a look of contentment on his face, sat down at the fountain to have a drink. The manager came over and, after apologizing for his unintentional eavesdropping, asked him whether he was interested in a job.    The young man said: “No, thank you, I have a job.” “Then why did you inquire about the position on the phone?” asked the storekeeper. “Oh, that was my job; I was just checking up on myself.”

Having just chanted Unetaneh Tokef, we too have dialed in; we too have initiated a process of checking up on ourselves. According to the imagery of the metaphorical liturgy: God is sitting on the throne of judgment, the book of life spread wide open before Him. The shofar is sounded and the malachim yeichafeizu, the angels, frantic and frazzled, are seized by fear and trembling, declaring: Hiney Yom Hadin! – the day of judgment is here! K’vakarat Roeh Edro, Maavir Tzono Tachat Shivto - All that lives passes beneath God’s staff of judgment, like sheep before the shepherd.

On Rosh Hashanah it is written and on Yom Kippur it is sealed. Who will survive this coming year and who will not? Who will be healthy and who will struggle with illness? Who will succeed and who will confront poverty and/or suffering? Who will be raised up and who will fall in the face of adversity?

But the metaphor leaves us not defenseless. The divine Judge is on our side; God wants us to succeed, to live a more purposeful life, and to join God as partners in creating an ever-improved world. And thus, the description of the heavenly court scene concludes with a declaration that Teshuvah (repentance), Tefillah (prayer) and Tzedakah (righteousness), if embraced, if taken fully to heart, can set us on a healthier and more productive and meaningful life path.

In just 8 days, on Yom Kippur, we will stand a final time before “Yeshivah Shel Maalah,” the heavenly court. We will process and present, in detail, our numerous missed opportunities, our poor judgments, our inappropriate expressions of anger, and, at times, even our destructive choices. Ten times on Yom Kippur we will be on the docket for a rendezvous with the confessionals Ashamnu and Al Cheit, an extensive catalog of sins, pleading for forgiveness while symbolically we will beat our chests in atonement.  

1.    We have sinned against You by gossiping.
2.    And we have sinned against You by betraying a trust.
3.    We have sinned against You through arrogance.
4.    And we have sinned against You through condescension.
5.    We have sinned against You through selfishness.
6.    And we have sinned against You through empty confessions.

Dozens of sinful and destructive behaviors are described and reiterated throughout the day with the hope that regret and the intent to change will intensify with each recitation.  The heavenly court expects us to fully embrace positive and productive change, recognizing as expressed by Benjamin Franklyn: “That which people will not change for the better, time will change for the worse.”

There is a story about the great Jewish humorist, Sam Levenson, who in describing the Jewish American experience, once wrote, “My folks were immigrants and they fell under the spell of the American legend that the streets of America were paved with gold.” Levenson, continued: When my father got here, he found out three things: first, he saw that the streets were not paved with gold. The second thing he noticed was that the streets were not even paved, and last, he discovered that he was the one who was expected to do the paving.”

Life is filled with surprises, disappointments, and challenges. But life is also filled with new opportunities for change and growth. To actualize that growth, we must begin by defining the very nature of the dream for which we search; next, we must grasp the reality of life as it currently exists; and finally, and most importantly, it is upon us to determine what must be done - L’takein Olam B’malchut Shaddai, to repair and enhance God’s world in which we live.  

Building upon Maimonides’ teachings in the Mishneh Torah, Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz elaborated on each of the Rambam’s three steps of teshuvah:  

Step #1 – owning the harm or damage - recognizing that our past has been imperfect. Everything that was created during the six days of creation still needs work. Humanity, in general, and we, individually, still need work. But the great obstacle in the way of teshuvah, an obstacle confronting all of us, Steinsaltz taught, is self-satisfaction - the smug conviction that, “I’m ok, you’re ok;” - that whatever flaws one may have – they are the inevitable lot of human beings.

Step #2 -Renounce the regretted past, apologize and make amends. Remorse must be accompanied by a belief in the possibility of change, but great obstacles lie hidden along the way. Routine and habit do not disappear simply because one makes up one’s mind to do so. The decision to overcome routine is a critical step, but an insufficient step unto itself; further action is required.

Step #3 – Actually effecting change within ourselves. Leo Tolstoy declared: “Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing oneself.” We would prefer to tinker rather than to truly transform. But to truly reconnect with the sacred, an intense deep change of person will be a necessary rung to be ascended.

Lamentations challenges: “Let us search and examine our ways, and turn back to the Lord.” (3:40) The Hebrew word translated as examine, “V’nachkora,” implies much more. A “Chakira” is an archeological dig – a deep dig to find precious treasure. If we sincerely want to repent, our self-examinations this week cannot be merely skin deep; we must dig into our deepest recesses and lay bare our souls.

As part of our search for achieving intense teshuvah, I invite you to join me on a trek to Masada and its recent history. In her book, Recovered Roots, Yael Zerubavel, describes the Masada saga as having become centralized in the 20th century as part of Israel’s national founding myth, accompanied by a new ritual. During its early pre-state phase and the initial years of Israel’s statehood that followed, the novel ritual centered on a long and perilous trip to the mountain top, often made by teens and other young Israelis. At the time, this journey was not only highly demanding but, often- times, unsafe, and occasional fatal accidents did, indeed, occur. Nonetheless, for the young pioneers, the expedition was considered a critical educational and developmental struggle. As explained by Zerubavel, “Knowing the land” was more than the recital of facts in the classroom: it implied an intimate familiarity with the homeland; a sacred reclaiming of their roots in the land; and a process symbolically establishing a sense of ownership over the promised land.
 
At the time, there were no roads to Masada; there was no access by car. The trek through the desert was extremely harsh and required physical fitness, daring, and endurance which only deepened the impact of this commemorative adventure. Zerubavel describes a field trip to Masada in the first years of statehood as a challenging operation that usually lasted at least five days and included hiking on foot for scores of kilometers, a chronic lack of water, frequent fainting, and a breathtaking climb on ropes to the apex of the Masada cliff. For each of the participants, this difficult and dangerous journey represented a transformation; a growth and maturation, and a renewal of spirit through which a deep love of the homeland was created.

The excavations of the mid-1960s changed the very character and the significance of Masada. New roads, bus tours, public transportation, a youth hostel, and hotels built along the Dead Sea led to the growing popularity of the ancient fortress as a tourist site as well as a commercialized resort. Entry, once gained by virtue of patriotic commitment and physical endurance, was now purchased at the entrance to the site. The cable car appears to symbolize, more than anything else, the transformation of Masada. Whereas the youth pilgrimage of the States’ early years suggested an analogy to the ancient pilgrimage to the Temple, the cable car lift reminds one of the comforts associated with ski resorts.  

We find ourselves, this morning, amidst a different 10-day joint junket, one through Cheshbon Hanefesh, an accounting of our souls, of our very essence. Like Masada in the early days, our journey is intended to be a demanding, grueling, soul wrenching excavation. The hope is that we will emerge cleansed and refreshed, and with a newly re-established connection with and love for God, paralleling the love of and connection with the land resultant from the expedition to the top of Masada.

And so - the challenge is therefore laid before each one of us. Jewish tradition is challenging us to escalate the struggle, to extend our reach, to use these moments to enact truly significant change. The music of our service is, indeed, beautiful and inspiring but we must elevate ourselves beyond song and singing – we must listen deeper, beyond Hazzan Krohn’s incredible voice; we must internalize the pleas and the longings of his heart. The readings, the teachings, and the sermons are hopefully meaningful, but we must extend the insights beyond fodder for lunch conversation. \We must disembark from the cable car of superficiality, instead boarding the spiritual pilgrimage, one challenging step at a time so that our 10-day personal journeys may be life-changing and inspire us to become our very best selves.

During these ten days, we pray that our sanctuary be transformed into a “repentagon.”  These High Holidays have the potential to become High Holy Days, a time in which Teshuvah can be, at once, both restorative and utopian in character. It is time to phone into the heavenly chambers of our hearts, our minds, our souls – to determine – how are we doing?

Let us commit, let us strive to climb the highest spiritual mountains. Let us commit to excavate deeply into our inner selves, in search of the core roots of our souls and a new meaning and purpose for our lives. May it be God’s will that we be blessed – “to ascend to new depths.” B’sefer Chayim Brach V’shalom…Nizacheir V’nikateiv L’fanecha. May our deep repentance, our heartfelt prayer, and our powerful acts of righteousness make us genuinely worthy of being written in the Book of Life.

SHANA TOVAH