[Jewish] [Mindful Torah] The Four Noble Truths of Rosh Hashanah

[Rabbi Steven Nathan]

This is a reworking of a Rosh Hashanah sermon I wrote a few years ago.
I hope you find it meaningful.


May you have a Shanah Tovah u'metukah-a good and sweet year!

Shalom/Salaam,

Rabbi Steve Nathan


As this first day of the New Year begins and you sit in synagogue you
may well ask yourself, "why on earth are we here?" You may think I’m
joking, or perhaps just trying to wake you up from your slumber. Well,
in part perhaps I am. But seriously I am asking you the question: “Why
on earth are we here?” Are we here because it’s what we’ve always done?
Are we here because it’s expected of us? Are we here because our
parents, our spouse or children forced us to be? Are we here so we can
be seen? Are we here so we can see? Or are we here because we feel like
our life and soul are on the line and we need to pray with everything
we’ve got?



I would guess that most of us are here for a number of these reasons –
if not all of them. But my hunch is that most of us – myself included –
would not say that we are here each year because of the existential
crisis we are facing in our lives and because we feel like we need to
make peace with God and do Teshuvah because our souls are on the line.




And yet, on some deep level I believe that we all think exactly this.
We may not realize it. We may never realize it, but there is a reason
beyond the social and communal aspects of today that draws us here each
year. There is something that calls us to community and to prayer. The
call of the shofar echoes within our collective unconscious
nevertheless. But what are we called to do?



Simple. We have ten whole days to acknowledge all the wrongs that we
have done during this past year. Ten days to seek forgiveness from
others. Ten days to pray to God for atonement. Ten days to hopefully
find it within us to forgive ourselves – which is usually the hardest
part. Ten days. A piece of cake!





It took us each an entire year to build up and write out the rap sheet
of our crimes and misdemeanors. Now in ten days we are meant to get rid
of that rap sheet – no matter how long it might be – and start with a
clean slate? Of course, we could always throw it in the shredder and
act like it doesn’t exist. But we all know that if we do that we will
be like Mickey Mouse chopping up the bewitched broom into a hundred
pieces in Fantasia, each piece coming to life and creating a new broom.
A new entity all its own. An entity with its own power and direction –
yet also following in the same direction as its parent and siblings.
And so we heap regret upon regret, sorrow up sorrow, guilt upon guilt,
until we are so overwhelmed that we either drown or simply ignore
what’s going on within and around us completely.



No, we can’t throw our list of transgressions into the shredder. We
must erase them all – or at least try to. Yet it seems as if they are
written with indelible ink. But nothing is truly indelible. There is
always something you can find to erase the mark, remove the stain and
make it appear almost as if it had never been there. This we are
expected to do in a mere ten days. No easy feat! And perhaps it is the
daunting nature of this task that keeps us from truly engaging in it
the way the tradition asks us to. It’s not that we have missed the mark
so many times this past year (although each of us probably has), but
it’s the fact that we’re supposed to deal with all of this in a mere
ten days in spite of the fact that most weeks we don’t get half the
things done that we had planned because of a perceived lack of time.



Though we hear the shofar’s call to Teshuvah. Though we know deep
within our soul that it’s not merely what we’re supposed to do – but
what we need to do – we give it perfunctory lip service and instead
focus on reconnecting with family, friends and community to celebrate a
new year. Though this is important work in it’s own right, it is not a
reason to spend a total of 2 or 3 days praying in shul! So this begs
the question: “how do we make the process of Teshuvah more meaningful
for us in such a short amount of time?” I believe that the answer to
this question first requires us to acknowledge that this task is
impossible. We can’t do it all in 10 days. Teshuvah needs to be a
yearlong process. We need to look at ourselves every day if possible
and see what we need to change or ask forgiveness for. But beyond that
it would also help if we were to view the 10 Days of Teshuvah – the
most intense time for this process – within the larger scheme.



In his moving book “This is Real and You are Completely Unprepared”
Rabbi Alan Lew, may his memory be a blessing, does just that. In short
he tells the reader we must each begin to look at this process not
today, but exactly seven weeks ago on Tisha B’Av. Now, if you didn’t go
to Jewish summer camp, or have a more in-depth exposure to Jewish
tradition you may very well not even know what Tisha B’Av is. Tisha
B’av is the 9th day of the month of Av. It the day on which, tradition
teaches, the first Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed by the Babylonians
and the 2nd Temple was destroyed by the Romans. This second destruction
in the year 70 CE left the Jewish people without a homeland until the
founding of Israel in 1948. But why start on Tisha B’Av, the only
complete fast day on the calendar other than Yom Kippur – and one of
the most neglected holy days on our calendar?




In order to answer this question we have to look at what Tisha B’Av
represents. It was not just about the destruction of a building or a
city, but it was about the utter decimation of our homeland and our
home. One of the traditional names for the Temple in Jerusalem was
simply “bayit” or “bayit ha’gadol” – “house” or the “great house.” The
Temple was our people’s spiritual home. It was the center of our
ancestor’s existence. When the walls of the Temple crumbled around them
it was truly as if their home had been destroyed before their very
eyes. The people were left alone, without a sense of belonging or
grounding, without a sense of safety. The world was suddenly a
frightening and dangerous place in which to live. This, says Alan Lew,
is where the spiritual journey of Teshuvah begins. We must begin by
allowing the walls of our own spiritual houses to be torn down – and we
must be a witness to it – if not a collaborator!





The rabbis of the Talmud taught that the 2nd Temple was destroyed by
the Romans because there was so much infighting among the Jewish people
that they could not work together in order to defend themselves. This
may have been true, says Lew, but the reality is also that the Roman
army was so powerful that no one would have been able to stop them. The
Jewish sin of sinat hinam – senseless hatred may have hastened the
destruction, but the destruction was still inevitable.




And so for us the warring factions within our psyche and our spirit may
hasten the destruction of our spiritual home (or in some cases delay
it) but it is inevitable if we are to begin the work of Teshuvah. We
must feel the sense of loss, the sense of being ungrounded, the sense
that we are utterly alone and indefensible in order to then begin
rebuilding our lives. And so we have seven weeks of feeling homeless
and ungrounded to begin the work of Teshuvah.





Of course, the reality is that we can also find ourselves frozen with
fear once we realize that there is nothing protecting us any more. We
can simply focus on the loss and never move ahead into the future. That
is the danger of remembering. Zachor – remember - is a central
commandment of Judaism. However, if we remember only for remembering’s
sake and never allow ourselves to beyond the world of memory then we
are doomed either to a life of stagnation or of unending repetitions.




And so we move ahead over a period of seven weeks. Seven – the number
of creation. In seven weeks we must traverse the world of our psyche
and our spirit, as well as the world of flesh and blood – friends,
families, co-workers, acquaintances – and begin to recreate our world
and recreate ourselves. We must remember what we did that contributed
to the destruction of our house and begin by forgiving ourselves. We
must remember that at any given moment the choices that we make are in
fact just that, the choices that we made at that moment. It may be
difficult to accept that – most of us are so good at second-guessing
and criticizing our “bad” decisions after the fact. But the reality is
that given what was happening in our minds and our hearts – as well as
around us – at that given moment we made the only choice that we could
at that particular moment. We must accept this while also accepting the
consequences of our choices and then forgive ourselves for being human.
Only once we have allowed ourselves to do this can we then do the
important work of seeking forgiveness from others. And once we have
forgiven ourselves and sought forgiveness from those whom we have
harmed then we can say that God, the power that makes forgiveness
possible, has forgiven us.





This is true even if the other person does not forgiven us. For our
obligation and our duty is to seek forgiveness sincerely. If the other
person chooses not to forgive us then the mark that was on our slate of
transgressions is wiped clean and, according to tradition, it now moves
over to his/her slate as something that s/he needs to focus on when
doing Teshuvah.



Now this may all seem a bit overwhelming, but I do believe that there
is wisdom that exists that can help us in this process and I would like
to share it with you. Since I first started thinking about this sermon
the closing line of the Avinu Malkeinu prayer kept playing in my mind.
I knew that it needed to be in some ways the lynchpin of the sermon,
but I was not sure how. This prayer, with its haunting melodic refrain,
is one of the hallmarks of the Rosh Hashanah liturgy. And yet we do not
chant it today because we are taught that prayers that are direct
petitions to God for help are not to be recited on Shabbat, a day that
is to be dedicated to simply appreciating God and God’s world. But even
though we will not be singing it today, its sentiment is an essential
part of the process of Teshuvah.



After chanting a litany of requests for God’s assistance and
forgiveness we end with the verse “Avinu Malkeinu, honeinu v’aneinu, ki
ein banu ma’asim. Aseh imanu tzedakah v’hesed v’hoshiyanu.” This is
translated in our Mahzor as “Our Creator, Our Sovereign (traditionally
rendered as “our father, our king”) be gracious with us and respond to
us, for we have no deeds to justify us; deal with us in righteousness
and love, and save us now.” Of course, all translation is commentary,
but this modern, egalitarian, politically correct translation is
similar to most of the traditional translations. The Silverman Mahzor
with which many of us from Conservative backgrounds grew up translates
this as “Our Father, Our King, be Thou gracious unto us and answer us;
for lo! We are unworthy; deal Thou with us in charity and
loving-kindness and save us.”





It is this particluar translation that has troubled me almost from the
moment when I first really read it and understood what I believed it
was saying. My interpretation of it was, in short, “God, please be good
to us and answer our prayers even though we are worthless and
undeserving. But please treat us with charity and kindness regardless
of that fact.” This was not a sentiment that I wanted to associate with
my Judaism. I didn’t want to believe the fact that Judaism views human
beings as basically worthless. First of all, that contradicts the
teaching that we are each created in God’s image. Secondly, if we are
basically worthless then why bother doing Teshuvah since inevitably
we’re just going to mess up again?



While struggling to find a new translation that could help me
understand and accept the underlying meaning of this prayer I came
across Alan Lew’s discussion of this verse in his book. Basically, what
Lew (who was a long time practitioner of Zen Buddhism as well as being
a rabbi) said is that the verse simply means that no matter what deeds
we have done, no matter how much preparation we have done for Teshuvah,
when the moment arrives to face God, ourselves and those whom we have
harmed we are utterly unprepared. It is as if we are totally empty. We
have nothing in us. As the title of his book says “this is real, and
you are completely unprepared.”





The act of Teshuvah is about as real as it gets, and no pre-planning
can help in the end. It all goes out the window. The only thing that
matters at that moment is – that moment, itself and what we do with it.
Our house has been destroyed. The constructs and facades on which we
all build and rebuild our lives each and every day are gone. The ground
beneath us has either disappeared or is constantly shifting. We only
have ourselves and this moment and now we must do what we must do.
Again, this can be terrifying as it creates a sense of emptiness and
aloneness within us. But remember, the prayer is stated in the plural
and must be chanted in community. So even though it is frightening and
even though Teshuvah is ultimately an individual act, the fact that we
are doing it in a communal context can give us strength to face
ourselves and the moment.



So now that we’ve acknowledge our sense of emptiness and groundlessness
how do we go about doing the difficult work of Teshuvah? I would like
to offer four pieces of advice that I hope will be helpful. I will call
these the four essential truths of Teshuvah:

§ 1 – Life is difficult. Stop trying to deny this. Life can never be
totally satisfying because everything is temporary and impermanent.
Even our great ancestral home, the Temple, could not last forever.
Nothing in life is eternal (a mixed blessing). If we try to act like
things are permanent then we are only going to make it more difficult
for us to do Teshuvah – and to live. The guilt and pain we feel will
pass, as all thing do – whether good or bad. Being mindful of this and
acting from this place of understanding will enable us to seek
forgiveness from ourselves, others and God



§ 2 – Pain is an inevitable part of life because of the reality of
life's impermanence. Don’t be afraid that confronting our mistakes will
cause others or ourselves pain. Pain is not something that we can ever
avoid as human being. However, we can add to the pain and create
suffering because of our inability to let go of habits, beliefs,
patterns, thoughts, and feelings that keep us stuck in the past.
Suffering is what keeps us frozen in the past or obsessed with the
future and prevents us from truly being in the present and doing
Teshuvah. If we never let go of the feelings that we felt as we watched
our walls tumbling down around us we will never be able to move on our
to even think of rebuilding a new home for ourselves.



§ 3 - Inner peace and contentment is an achievable goal – regardless of
what our internal voices and stories might tell us. But inner peace is
not ultimately dependent upon external forces or circumstances. Just as
we cause our own suffering through our habits and actions we are also
the source of our own “cure”. By using the power that is within each of
our souls – that which we call God - to bring about our personal sense
of forgiveness and redemption we can achieve peace – at least in this
moment. Everlasting peace may be a fairy tale, but peace and
contentment right now is within our selves.



§ 4 - Finally, we must set down a path of action that will bring us
back home to God, our souls and ourselves. This path is multi-faceted,
but is the essence of Teshuvah. Returning to the One. Returning to the
community. Returning to ourselves. The ability to do this is within us.
Each of us may find a different way to walk the path, but walk it we
must. We must walk it alone, but knowing that others are walking beside
us, in front of us and behind us, with the Divine Presence embracing
and comforting us as well.






Now some of you may be saying to yourselves “hmm, these seem similar to
the four noble truths of the Buddha.” And you are right. For this is my
Jewish understanding of the wisdom that Buddhism has to offer regarding
how we live our lives. For I believe these truths not to always be so
self-evident, but I do believe that they are universally applicable
(with slight variations from traditions to tradition). You will find
many similar concepts within Judaism – especially within Kabbalah and
Hasidism. But assuming we accept these four truths, or some variation
of them, how do find this strength to walk the path. How do we connect
with the Divine within us and use it to help us find forgiveness and
peace? The key is to be found in the second part of the final verse of
Avinu Malkeinu. Aseh imanu tzedakah v’hesed v’hoshiyeinu. I translate
this verse (and I believe that the Hebrew supports this) as “Create
with us tzedakah v’hesed – righteousness and abundant kindness – and
bring us salvation.” What we are imploring, actually commanding, God to
do in this verse is to work with us to create righteousness and
justice, balanced by kindness and compassion, so that we can have the
strength to walk the path towards salvation.





Mordecai Kaplan, the founder of Reconstructionist Judaism, believed
that salvation referred to those things for which people ultimately
search: holiness, meaning, peace and the betterment of our world. In
order to achieve individual, communal and worldly salvation we being
with the Divine-human relationship. We begin by creating together with
God tzedakah and hesed, righteousness and justice, with which to rule
ourselves and the world. We work to create kindness and compassion with
which to comfort ourselves and our world. If we can create these and
constantly strive to keep them in balance then we can follow the
multi-faceted path of Teshuvah. We can then begin the work of
rebuilding our personal and communal houses, while accepting the fact
that – just as with the Sukkah that we will build in a little over a
week – the houses are not permanent. They will eventually come down one
way or another, and so we will begin the task again, head down the path
again, and seek our Source again – day after day, week after week,
month after month, new year after new year.




And so, let me conclude with my final reconstruction of the last verse
of Avinu Malkeinu as a blessing for all of us as we walk this path
alone together:

Our Beloved Parent – comforting us, guiding us, teaching us

Our Revered Sovereign – instructing us, directing us, supporting us

Be gentle and gracious to us, help us to find the answer within us,
even though we realize that at this very moment we are empty. There is
nothing in us. We are each a blank slate ready to be written up by our
own hand – guided by you.



Create for us and instill within us the divine qualities of tzedakah
and hesed –

Righteousness and overflowing love.

May we act rightly towards ourselves; may we be loving and
compassionate towards ourselves so that we may find forgiveness within
us for ourselves. May we use those divine qualities of tzedakah and
hesed to turn outward and seek forgiveness from others and to grant
forgiveness to others so that we can work together to create a world
filled with peace, joy, overflowing love and compassion.

This is our prayer. Amen










--
Posted By Rabbi Steven Nathan to Mindful Torah at 9/17/2009 11:55:00 PM
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <https://lists.hampshire.edu/pipermail/jewish/attachments/20090917/ad331f31/attachment.htm>