Sermons, essays, articles, arguments and thought pieces from a Liberal Jewish perspective.
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Psalm 122: 8-9
לְ֭מַעַן אַחַ֣י וְרֵעָ֑י אֲדַבְּרָה־נָּ֖א שָׁל֣וֹם בָּֽךְ׃
For the sake of my kin and friends,
I pray for your well-being;
לְ֭מַעַן בֵּית־יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֵ֑ינוּ אֲבַקְשָׁ֖ה ט֣וֹב לָֽךְ׃ {פ}
for the sake of the house of the Eternal our God,
I seek your good.
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel
Looking upon myself from the perspective of society, I am an average person. Facing myself intimately, immediately, I regard myself as unique, as exceedingly precious, not to be exchanged for anything else.
No one will live my life for me, no one will think my thoughts for me or dream my dreams.
In the eyes of the world, I am an average person. But to my heart I am not an average person. To my heart I am of great moment. The challenge I face is how to actualise the quiet eminence of my being.
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, was one of the most important theologians and philosophers of the twentieth century; social and civil rights activist who famously walked arm in arm with Martin Luther King Jnr at Selma. I am moved and delighted by his thinking on the nature of the individual: The awareness that others might think us average and that each one of us can perceive how precious and unique we are.
It is tempting over the High Holy Days, to focus only upon the difficult circumstances one might be experiencing at the time. But perhaps we have already had enough laid upon our shoulders this year and indeed over Rosh Hashanah there were matters that we could not ignore (you are welcome to hear my sermon on Rosh Hashanah Morning if you missed hearing us contemplate October 7th and the subsequent War). There is only so much we can bear.
Does it serve us to go even deeper into our gloom? We will inevitably do that at times over Yom Kippur but let us also consider – particularly using these moments and the night – that which is not global, but unique to each of us, the “exceedingly precious, not to be exchanged for anything else.” The good as well as the bad. How do we, humbly, magnify the good?
A metaphor for this season, is that our deeds are placed in a balance, there are some good even great deeds in that balance as well as a few less proud or maybe too proud moments of our past year. When deluged from all about us with externalities, how difficult it is to look within.
The opening to our Vidui – the Confessional section of our liturgy reads:
Our God and God of our ancestors, grant that our prayers may reach You. Do not turn a deaf ear to our pleas, for we are not so arrogant and stiff-necked as to say before You, Eternal one our God and God of our ancestors, that we are perfect and have not sinned; rather do we confess: we have sinned, we have done evil, we have transgressed. (Mahzor Ruach Chadashah, p. 197)
When we read this, how hearteningly human this is!
None of us are perfect! When we err it is as much a part of our humanity as our excellence.
We are all in it together. Whilst we look inwards, we do so sat or stood with a whole community, similarly engaged and urged to indulge in introspection.
We are engaged in a process during which we are gifted an annual opportunity to rebalance ourselves.
The suggestion is not that we ignore our failings for we know they are real, that we seek the vision and strength to control them. Yet when we focus overly upon them, adding on the difficulties in the world around us, we tend to feel overwhelmed. The last year has been overwhelming. When we are flooded literally by nature and by events of human creation, we flounder.
When we flounder we are, perhaps as Heschel suggests the worlds see him, “an average person.” How do we remind ourselves to listen to our heart and to recognise that we are “of great moment.”
Tonight, let us be selfish and think about ourselves, for ourselves. The rest of the year Rabbis might preach more generously, encouraging us, towards consideration for the other, either out of altruism or more realistically out of the desire to do good. But tonight, on this night like no other night of the Jewish year, let us think about ourselves, selfishly. There is not much else to do tonight … or tomorrow. Rabbi Lea has talked about God and I have talked about Israel and tomorrow Rabbi Lea will talk about … you will have to find out.
Tonight it is us with ourselves.
Ironically, thinking about ourselves is not easy. Very often we come back to us but in relation to others and the world around us, perhaps to God.
This thought comes to me as I read Lauren Elkin’s book, a collation of musings typed into notes on her phone whilst commuting to and from her place of work in Paris. (No.91/92: notes on a Parisian commute). She is the Flaneuse of Paris, walking and observing, documenting and contemplating. Wondering whilst wandering.
This is not my ordinary read but was recommended by our daughter, Liora. It made me think about just how, enabling wonder and the opportunity to wander helps us think … about ourself, about others and how we hope to find our place in the order of things. To wonder and wander, to find good.
Tomorrow morning we will read sections from the Torah portion, Nitzavim. Whilst addressing every Israelite hearing his final orations and extending this out to future generations “who are not with us today (Deut 29:14),” so much of this is about Moses. It is him considering his legacy and whilst we usually interpret it as an address to the People, perhaps it is a plea for the future to make sense of the past, to create or recreate, order.
Rabbi Lawrence Kushner, an American Reform Rabbi noted for his spiritual and mystical teachings, links in: The Book of Words, the Hebrew word Seder to the English word ‘remembering.’ The Hebrew root for seder – the order of our Pesach meal – also gives us the word siddur – the order of our prayers – and siddrah – the order by which we read Torah.
He provides this Kavannah – a word he translates as – Living Spiritual Talk.
Remembering is in the order. What comes before and what comes after. The way to remember what you have forgotten is to recall what happened just before, to set it in a larger context. Sights, sounds, and especially aromas can carry with them powerful associations of other times and ancient dreams. Knowing this, we can deliberately condition ourselves by reserving certain sensations for sacred occasions : a “special” cologne for the Sabbath, a piece of music in preparation for a festival, a text reserved for a sacred time. In so doing we transform our lives into a seder, an order of remem-bering.
As the poignancy of the people we share this sacred time with, bringing to mind the good we have done and has been done for us; the invoking of memory through evocative music and words; and perhaps a sense of the Divine Spirit, move us to create or re-create seder, an order of remem-bering.”
Remembering that we are “unique, as exceedingly precious, not to be exchanged for anything else. No one will live my life for me, no one will think my thoughts for me or dream my dreams … To my heart I am of great moment.”
“The challenge I face is how to actualise the quiet eminence of my being.” May this evening help us to better face this challenge, so that our goodness is magnified through 5785, for in the words of the Psalmist:
Psalm 122: 8-9
לְ֭מַעַן אַחַ֣י וְרֵעָ֑י אֲדַבְּרָה־נָּ֖א שָׁל֣וֹם בָּֽךְ׃
For the sake of my kin and friends,
I pray for your well-being;
לְ֭מַעַן בֵּית־יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֵ֑ינוּ אֲבַקְשָׁ֖ה ט֣וֹב לָֽךְ׃ {פ}
for the sake of the house of the Eternal our God,
I seek your good.
