Don’t Have a Happy New Year

A wandering merchant came to a town square offering to sell the elixir of life.  Of course, large crowds would surround him, each person eager to purchase eternal youth.  When pressed, the merchant would bring out the Book of Psalms and show them the verse: “Who desires life?  Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from guile.”

Rabbi Artson tells that tale as it demonstrates the greatest truth of life: what we do influences how we live.  On one plane, it is widely accepted that healthy eating produces a healthier lifestyle.  Yet, it is equally true that our outward behavior towards others crafts the inner image of our identity.

Show me a kind-hearted person, generous with deed and word, and I will show you a happy person.  The opposite is also true- a foul-mouthed, mean-spirited person will harbor a nasty cauldron of inner bitterness.

We control how we act and how we act controls how we construct our thoughts.

Rumi and so many other inspired poets speak of following your heart while our faith says the opposite, “Your heart will be drawn after your actions.”  In other words humans have the propensity to justify what we do, even when it is bad.  We merge into one being with what we say.  In stead, the Jewish attitude is to do mitzvot and your heart will follow.

We are headed into the season when the measure of our self is taken, both by God and us.  As we approach the end of the summer we see our reflection mirrored in the eyes of those with whom we interact.  When we see their disapproving glance we can fend off the negativity or be brave – as God would have it - and ask, “How did I create this?”  Equally so, watch for the look of love in another’s eyes and you will find joyful validation.

One man seeking wholeness went to see a mystic.  He yearned for healing.  Half starved, the mystic ordered the man to be fed and then had him repeat the viduy (confession), ashammnu, bgadnu, gazalmu etc- “we have sinned, we have betrayed, we have stolen…..”

In the course of repeating the list of sins he fainted.  When he came to the mystic sent him away ordering him to never again forget that some words are important as deeds, some words are actually deeds and some deeds take control of our self.  They and us become one.

Don’t have a happy New Year, make it a good one through your actions.

Upon Reflection

“Upon reflection.”

I have always liked those words because they mean something.  Instead of blurting out the first thing that comes to to mind, “upon reflection” indicates depth.  That is precisely what is supposed to be happening now.

“Repent one day before your death,” advises Pirkay Avot.  But the Talmud wisely asks, “Who knows when they are going to die?” 

Precisely.  Therefore, they counsel, repent every day.  Easier written than done.

Expressing sorrow, regret, is complex.  It means defying the voice of the ego, which loudly proclaims, “You were right!  They were wrong!  How can you apologize to someone who is so callous?  A brute?  An idiot?”  If you say you are sorry you will become diminished.  

Of course this is a lie told by our ego but if it said loud enough who has the strength to go against it?

The Holy Days are the time for repair work.  Fixing stuff.  Hurt feelings. Broken relationships.  Hearing and responding to the soft but insistent voice of our conscience demanding that wrongs be made rights.  

Human nature does not change.  We have been at war with our self for eons.  Two thousand years ago scholars wondered, “What if they reject my apology?  Must I go back and humble ourselves again? (Yes, up to three times, they counsel).  What if the person is dead? (We visit the grave and speak to their spirit).

Judaism does not let us off the hook easily.  It insists that we find mechanisms to quell the voice of pride and the seemingly all-powerful defense mechanisms and become simple and whole once again.

It is easy, too easy, to see the flaws in others.  It far more daunting to see them in us and then ask, as Rabbi Jonah of Gerona taught, “One must ask oneself: ‘What have I done? What have I become?’”

The answer begins with these words, “upon reflection….”

Coming to the Holy Days

In the beginning, G-d created. . . teshuva (repentance or return).  Ancient sources speak of teshuva preceding the world’s creation. Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer goes so far to state that teshuva was part of the blueprint for the world.  In other words, the world could not exist without it.

Rashi adds that justice and mercy are two sides of the same coin.  Remove one of them and you no longer have a whole coin.  The universe requires both. This is such a critical idea is because this is the season of “letting go.”  Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are workbenches for us; they are opportunities to reshape our lives.  

How do we do this? 

1.    Confession.  Come to G-d with a mind full of breaches of faith, failures of action, and harsh criticisms of others.  Know them. State them.  Bring them the Sanctuary of G-d.

If, when preparing to daven, you own and acknowledge personal flaws by specifically naming them (speaking them aloud to G-d) there can be personal forgiveness.  This is part of the liturgy “(For the sin we have committed by….”) except we are supposed to pronounce  our personal warts, not other’s.

2.    Rav Huna, son of Rav Yehoshua became ill. Rav Pappa went up to inquire about him, and saw that Rav Huna was on the brink of death. Rav Pappa told people around him, “Supply him with provisions for his journey (i.e. prepare burial shrouds).”  Ultimately, however, Rav Huna recovered.

“What did you see?” they asked Rav Huna.  He said, “I was about to die, but at the last moment, the Holy One, Blessed is He, said to the Heavenly Tribunal, ‘Since he does not stand on his principle, we cannot be strict against him.’ As it is stated, He pardons transgression and overlooks sin. Whose transgression does He pardon? One who overlooks sins committed against himself.” –Talmud

Forgive others. Let go of past hurts.  As the story indicates holding past grudges affects us, not them.

L’Shana Tova Tikateyvu, May you be inscribed for a good year.

Rivke and Rabbi Jonathan Case