Yamim Noraim Roundup. What a High Holy Day experience it was this year. The JCC was filled to near capacity through many of the services. Sharing the Bimah with, and getting to know, Cantor Shalom Zachmy was a blessing and a delight. Not only was his davening beautiful, with a sweet and rich voice, but the personal stories he shared as an Israeli born in Yemen were fascinating. I cannot adequately describe his wonderful ability to engage the congregation in song.
Though many deserve it, I am not going to single out anyone else for praise except for Terri Robinovitz who, in leading our children's service, taught and nurtured our children with kindness and love. Every time I walked in the classroom, everyone was smiling and happy. (In this regard, I have to also add Kayla, Zach, and Aaron Lombardi, who stepped in to assist as needed).
Permit me to send my many thanks to each and every person present at the various services. There were many holy and sanctified moments over the course of the Holy Days. There was praying, and singing, and marching, and meditating. There was laughing, and crying, and silence, and discussion. I have the privilege of standing before you and seeing the holiness in your eyes. What a blessing each one of you is. What a joy the JCC community is.
Below is a very brief round-up of my talks. As always, please feel free to reach out to me with questions or thoughts. I have already received several emails suggested possible topics for future sermons.
The first night I requested the congregants to think about why they come to High Holy Day services. I explained that, for me, much of it is connected to wonderful memories of being with my family. I talked in some detail about our holiday walks to shul, and the meals, and the songs, and the smells. I requested each person present to thank about what brings them to the Temple to observe the High Holy Days. If you have a reason or a memory that stands out, please let me know.
On the First Day of Rosh Hashanah I requested each congregant turn to her/his neighbor and to take a few minutes to discuss what would him/her happy. I discussed that, because of the virulently partisan nature our current world, we live in disconcerting times. I suggested that one way to fight the unpleasantness would be to work on our own individual happiness. The theory is that if each of us becomes happier, we can then spread our contentment to the world around us. And make the world less tense one person at a time.
Though this might sound a bit Pollyannaisms, our tradition actually contains a prayer that provides a paradigm to help make us happier. It is called Eiluh Devarim and I wrote about it last week. Pared down to its essence, our tradition's recipe for happiness is not that we "seek" happiness, but that we "do" happiness. In other words if we live a life of, among other things, respect, intentional prayer, kindness, and good deeds, we will find ourselves being happy.
If you were at services, I hope you enjoyed my holiday renditions of "Don't Worry, Be Happy", and "Put On A Happy Face."
At the evening service after the first day, I discussed that "Shana Tovah" means "Good Year". Tovah means "Good" and "Shanah" means year. However, the root letters for Shanah, shin-nun-hey, can also be used for the word "Shoneh" which means to "change". Thus when we say "Shanah Tovah", we might be saying "Good Change". This is connected to doing Teshuvah, which we translate as to "repent" or "Turn" back.
The idea is that on the High Holy Days we need to reflect on our lives and "change". The hope is that we can make ourselves better and that we can set good examples for those around us. I wished that the New Year brings health, joy and fulfillment and that it does not leave us unchanged.
The second day of Rosh Hashanah I began the sermon by holding a 9/11 memorial service. I went through a timeline of the horrific events of that day. We then said prayers for those who perished and for the first responders. I chanted Ehl Malai Rachamim, our tradition's memorial prayer. We then handed out sheets of paper containing names of all of the victims 9/11. I asked each congregant to focus on a name or two as we chanted the Mourner's Kaddish. I blew the Shofar three times. We then closed by singing "God Bless America".
I then shifted to a brief talk about Theodore Herzl, known as the father of the modern state of Israel. Herzl was born in Hungary and as a teenager moved to Vienna. He grew up mostly as an assimilated Jew, but ultimately became intensely aware of the existence of anti-Semitism in Europe. In 1897 he organized the first Zionist Congress where nearly 300 Jews met to discuss the necessity of having a Jewish homeland for the Jewish people. It is Hertzl who famously said: "If you will it, it is no dream", and, in large part due to Herzl's efforts, 50 years after that first Zionist congress, the UN voted to reestablish the Jewish State.
Ultimately I discussed the fact that it took an assimilated, non-religious, Jewish person to help to forge our Homeland. It is therefore clear that it is intended to be a homeland for all Jews.
On Kol Nidre I talked about the fact that if we want the world to change, we need to start by acknowledging the need to change ourselves. If we can effect our own change, then we can impact those within our sphere of influence, who can then impact people within their spheres of influence.
I quoted Hillel, who said: "If not now, when?" I asked the congregants to discuss amongst themselves if they had a something that they desired to do which fit into the category of "If not now, when?" I asked if they had someone with whom they needed to make amends, or a dream they needed to fulfill, or an "I love you" they needed to say. I suggested with regard to these issues, "If not now, when?"
I explained that I learned that when people were asked about their biggest regret, more often than not, the response had to do with not doing something that they had wanted to do. I explained that in order to avoid the regrets, people needed to be mindful of "If not now, when". We all need to be mindful and do the things that our hearts and souls are telling us we should be doing.
Finally, I began my pre-Yizkor sermon by reading Robert Munsch's "I'll Love You Forever". It is a book that I often read to my daughter. If you have not read this book, you can look it up on line. It is a very emotional story about a mother's unconditional love for her child.
I used the book as an example of the meaning and purpose of the Yizkor service. Yizkor means, "He (God) will remember." It is a service in which we remember our loved ones who have passed. But it is more complex. While the service is designed to help us remember our loved ones, there is another layer to it.
Since we shared specific memories with those we have lost, when they pass, we lose that connection and, in turn, a piece of ourselves. Their loss had thus created a void in our own lives. We need to be in the Yizkor service and to remember them, in order to make ourselves closer to being whole again. It's the memories that give the service, and us energy.
Yizkor also reminds us that it is unavoidable that someday we are each going to be the ones remembered. We need to be mindful of this and we need to create good memories with those we love in order to guarantee that we will be remembered.
As always, I tried to fill each service with little snippets of learning and spiritual connectivity, and even a joke or two.
Questions? Thoughts? Reach out to me!
Shabbat Shalom - Rabbi Michael S. Jay