High Holy Days

 Praying for some comes easy.  For others it is arduous.

On the High Holy Days we do a lot of it.  For those who find it easy to pray, time flies.  For those who find prayer difficult, time is inexorable; it could not pass any slower.  This column is dedicated to those in the second category, the ones who find it hard to pray.

There are essentially two ways to come to synagogue, in need or on empty.  

Need: Need means you walk in the doors of Beth Shalom wanting healing.  We are all broken.  Some are afflicted with physical ailments, some are psychically torn, some are scarred by loss of a job, some feel just worthless, some are wrestling with dark demons that take the form of abuse, and some are looking for their direction.  Most everyone suffers from all of these in varying degrees.

Healing begins when we acknowledge our brokenness.  We come to the Synagogue with open wounds and ask God to help us get through them.

Idea: On Rosh Hashanna we do not wish one another a “Happy New Year.”  We say Shana Tova, which means “A good year.”  What is the difference?  It is already here, so it is “new.”  What we have come to find is not just an acknowledgement that another year has passed, but we seek a cleansing of the self, a purging of the negative parts of our person.  We seek a “good” year not a “new” one.

Take time before the Holy Days and search for exactly what part of us needs healing.  Then bring it to God.

Empty: Expectations can be terrible.  An expectation indicates that we know what is about to happen.  If we go to a fine restaurant, for example, and expect to have the same quality service and food that we had last time, the evening may be a let down.   We anticipate the night out with our new friend will be as spontaneous and joyful as the last one.  We are disappointed when they are in a pensive mood.

The same principle applies with the service.  Before coming into the Synagogue, it may help to verbally acknowledge that we want to “hear” whatever God has planned for us.  This means emptying ourselves of all else.

This is an ancient poem translated by Robert Bly:

“Listen, friend, this body is his dulcimer,

He draws the string tight, and out of it comes

The music of the inner universe.

If the strings break and the bridge falls,

Then this dulcimer of dust goes back to dust.”

Like the dulcimer we sit.  Turning the pages of the mahzor we look to find and sing the song of our redemption.

God does not disappoint.  At times a single word or phrase jumps out of page to arrest our vision and communicate something vital.  Other times, it is a word spoken or a seemingly random thought that emerges from the inner emptiness.

In one old story, a rabbi sings loudly and forcefully exhorting the congregation to follow his example.  He says, “The moment you begin to sing your soul becomes one with everyone before you.”  

Without out preconception just sing, read, and sway.

 

Thought: If you have a setback, don’t throw in the towel.  Even if you need to take one step back before taking two forward, it is one step toward success.