Sermon for First Day of Rosh Hashanah 5781
September 19, 2020
(Note: This sermon, like all my recent sermons, was delivered over Zoom. The text below includes some “stage directions".” and a link to a picture on Twitter that is worth clicking on to get the full effect of my words.)
Last night I started my Rosh Hashanah evening sermon by observing that this is not a normal year.
But another way of looking at it is that this is a hyper-normal year.
Other years we have faced the devastating effects of climate change. This year even more so.
Other years our consciences have been prodded by the prevalence of racism in our country. This year even more so.
Other years we have been confronted by societal fissures between the political left and the political right --- with each side getting more and more challenged by its most extreme elements. This year even more so.
Our tradition expresses the hope for social harmony – As it says in the Shacharit Amidah: Barcheinu avinu kulanu ke’echad be’or panekha
“Bless us, O heavenly parent, all of us, as one. with the light of your presence” --
BUT THIS YEAR WE ARE SO FAR FROM THAT IDEAL.
A Presidential election looms in which millions of our fellow Americans are convinced that the future of the nation hangs in the balance depending on whether or not their candidate of choice is victorious.
And millions of our fellow Americans are frightened that the election itself will be marred by fraud.
The other day I even found myself saying out loud while alone in my living room –
“Okay Vladimir Putin. You win. I no longer have trust in the integrity of the American political process.”
And so, we must not just make sure to vote. We must also make sure that our ballot gets delivered and counted.
As a former First Lady advised one recent evening:
We've got to vote early, in person if we can. We've got to request our mail-in ballots right now, tonight, and send them back immediately and follow-up to make sure they're received. And then, make sure our friends and families do the same. We have got to grab our comfortable shoes, put on our masks, pack a brown bag dinner and maybe breakfast too, because we've got to be willing to stand in line all night if we have to.[1]
In this upcoming election, I know who I support.
And let me be sure to share with you that there are people I love and respect who support the other side.
And I pray that, as a nation, we can somehow reconcile and come together no matter what happens later this fall.
Barcheinu avinu kulanu ke’echad be’or panekha
Bless us, O heavenly parent, all of us, as one. with the light of your presence --
May that light shine upon us all – Jews and non-Jews, Republicans (both Trumpists and never-Trumpers and Democrats (both the woke and the not-yet-woke) , both Blacks and Whites and every shade of skin color in between, both gays and straights and every orientation in between, both men and women and every gender in between.
***************
And then there’s the pandemic.
Those gut-wrenching questions in Unetaneh Tokef resonate so strongly this year:
“How many shall pass away and how many shall be born,
who shall live and who shall die,
who in the fullness of years and who before their time.
Who by fire and who by water,
who by the sword and who by wild beast,
who by hunger and who by thirst,
who by earthquake and who by plague, “
What are the answers to those questions?
At this juncture, we do not know. But we do know that in the past few months over 190,000 of our fellow Americans have died from coronavirus-related causes.
Last week, on the 19th anniversary of the terrorist attacks of September 11th, 2001, I wrote to some friends:
“3000 dead in 2001, I'm angry. 190,000 dead in 2020, I'm numb. Or maybe it's vice versa.”
The other day when I was davening the weekday morning Shacharit service at home I found myself focusing on one particular phrase. That phrase is found in the Tachanun prayers that traditionally follow the weekday morning Amidah:
ּ וַאֲנַ֗חְנוּ לֹ֤א נֵדַע֙ מַֽה־נַּעֲשֶׂ֔ה כִּ֥י עָלֶ֖יךָ עֵינֵֽינוּ׃
“And as for us, we do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You.”
That might sound like a passive, fatalistic approach to life
אֲנַ֗חְנוּ לֹ֤א נֵדַע֙ מַֽה־נַּעֲשֶׂ֔ה כִּ֥י עָלֶ֖יךָ עֵינֵֽינוּ׃
“And as for us, we do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You.”
Some background: During most of the weekday morning prayers it’s fine to be sitting. Then, at the Amidah, it’s traditional to stand. But during Tachanun (which means “supplication”) it’s traditional to sit, lean forward, and rest your head on your arm.
[DEMONSTRATE THIS]
In that cowering position we say, quoting Psalm 6 ---
חָנֵּ֥נִי יְ-ה-וָ-ה֮ כִּ֤י אֻמְלַ֫ל אָ֥נִי רְפָאֵ֥נִי יְ-ה-וָ֑-ה כִּ֖י נִבְהֲל֣וּ עֲצָמָֽי׃
Have mercy on me, Adonai, for I languish; heal me, Adonai, for my bones shake with terror.
וְ֭נַפְשִׁי נִבְהֲלָ֣ה מְאֹ֑ד ואת [וְאַתָּ֥ה] יְ֝-ה-ו-ָ֗ה עַד־מָתָֽי׃
My whole being is stricken with terror, and You, Adonai—O, how long!
שׁוּבָ֣ה יְ֭-ה-וָ-ה חַלְּצָ֣ה נַפְשִׁ֑י ה֝וֹשִׁיעֵ֗נִי לְמַ֣עַן חַסְדֶּֽךָ׃
Turn, Adonai, set my soul free! Save me for the sake of your love!
My friends, I ask you, in the past year, how many of us cannot say that we have had days that make us feel like that?
But. funny thing though…
A few paragraphs later in Tachanun, when we get to the phrase I mentioned before:
וַאֲנַ֗חְנוּ לֹ֤א נֵדַע֙ מַֽה־נַּעֲשֶׂ֔ה כִּ֥י עָלֶ֖יךָ עֵינֵֽינוּ׃
“And as for us, we do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You.”
When we get to that phrase it is traditional to stand upright.
For me, doing so produces a visceral effect. It’s like the authors of the siddur are saying --- “Okay. Stand tall. Enough moping around. Let’s see what we can do about whatever is ailing us. Let’s see what we can do about whatever is ailing the world. Let’s see what we can do (in the words of the Aleinu) “Letaken olam bemalchut shaddai” / “to repair the world through God’s divine power.”
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So much of our lives is dependent on our personal outlooks. Is the glass half empty or half full?
When you see a picture like this:
https://twitter.com/NAChristakis/status/1305263928528777223/photo/1
DO YOU READ THIS AS --- You don’t matter. Give up!
OR --- “You matter! Don’t give up!”
During the past few months, I have made (or at least attempted to make) check in phone calls with every member household in our congregation. And our dedicated Temple Board members did so as well.
Some of us were struggling emotionally and/or financially.
To all of them let me say [RESUME SCREEN SHARE OF TWITTER IMAGE]– You matter! Don’t give up!
[STOP SCREEN SHARE]
At the same time, as I personally experienced, and as I learned from my conversations with many of you --- even with all of the disease and strife in the world around us --- we still recognize that we are blessed to be living in this beautiful place.
And we know --- WE KNOW ----that --- in this congregation – we are among friends. And we know – WE KNOW --- that --- in this life --- “We are loved by an unending love”[2] --- אהבת עולם
It is indeed a challenge --- to be present with the hardships of others and of our own while at the same time acknowledging and being thankful for our blessings.
Life is like that.
This past year --- even more so.
In the year to come, though it may seem like -- וַאֲנַ֗חְנוּ לֹ֤א נֵדַע֙ מַֽה־נַּעֲשֶׂ֔ה we just do not know what we shall do --- don’t give up. You matter. And there are manifold blessings waiting in store for us each and every day when we are ready to open ourselves to them.
And there is much to be done.
May we be active participants in the year to come in the healing of our bodies, in the healing of our souls, in the healing of our country, in the healing of our world.
Leshanah tovah tikatevu May we be inscribed in the Book of Life for a sweet and healthy year.
Amen
(c) Rabbi David Steinberg (September 2020/ Tishri 5781)
[1] https://www.cnn.com/2020/08/17/politics/michelle-obama-speech-transcript/index.html
[2] See Rabbi Rami Shapiro, “Unending Love” (as adapted and used in Kol Haneshama Shabbat Vehagim siddur, page 61)
