Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Erev Rosh Hashanah Sermon Sept. 4, 2013
Rosh Hashanah 5774

Reset, Chalkdust & Authenticity

We live in a computer age.  I am sure most of us have been there...know we’ve all experienced that same thing...that same frustration.  As we look back at the past year, I want to look back twenty years ago and I vividly remember it, it was on the first computer machine we had in our home, the first Mac.  It was that hourglass unlike any other.  It was the hourglass with seemingly endless sand.  It would just flip, and flip, and flip and you knew.  Now, at least in the Mac world, it is what many call the pinwheel of death.  Cause that is usually what it means.  Whatever you were working on, whatever efforts you have recently expended are now useless, gone, dead. 

It is that moment when your computer can no longer keep up with you, and you get that symbol and you know that drastic measures must be taken.  You switch to the task manager, you force quit a program or turn to that champion command, the CTRL + ALT + DEL on a PC to reset.  If you work with computers enough, you don’t even need to look to notice where those keys are and you can just strike and hold in that order and soon enough you will be saved from the torture and your computer will reset.

That great programming shortcut, the CTRL+ ALT+DEL, actually has an interesting past.  It was a programmer working on a nascent project at IBM.  According to a recent article I read, David Bradley created this shortcut.  It was designed to save programmers tens of minutes, which would add up quickly for them.  For whenever they hit a glitch or bug and needed a “fresh start” they would have to initiate a series of memory tests with a reset that required a full reboot, but Bradley’s work around, his trade secret saved valuable programming time for everyone.  It was not long before this trade secret for one of the early computers in the early 80’s became an icon.  An icon for a “fresh start.”1

Isn’t that what this season is really all about...a fresh start; it is the CTRL+ALT+DEL of the year.  And the more I consider this analogy, how true this is!  For if we consider the function that this work around, this icon in the computing world was designed for, it is exactly what we engage in during Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. 

Some look at this time and think of it as a clean slate, but that isn’t exactly what this time is for.  It is not the full reboot that David Bradley was trying to avoid, he wanted to leave the memory tests to another time.  When we hit the ‘reset’ button for a fresh start entering a New Year, it is much more akin to the CTRL+ALT+DEL.  It is a chance to start fresh, but WITH the memories, the experiences, the realities of the past lingering and remaining with us.  They become...well...kind of like our teachers.  It reminds me a lot of a chalkboard.  Yes, I am old enough to remember actual chalkboards.  And there just may have been a few times, especially in Hebrew School, when I was in a bit of hot water and had to clean the chalkboard after class.  So I know as kind of an expert, that no matter how many times you go over the board with the eraser, the chalk-dust remains. 

The New Year is not quite a clean slate.  The entire last year must be reconciled, reviewed, understood, even used.  The experiences we carry into the coming year, those leftover smudges of chalk on the board, become our teachers; they are our guides leading us closer to becoming who we have the potential to be.  It is a “quick reset” of a kind, an opportunity to mend broken bonds, to take an accounting of everything that has transpired since this time last year.  This season is all about taking account of the year that is ending, more so than celebrating the new one coming.  We sift that ‘chalk-dust‘ left on the board for the hints of the person we know that we can be, that authentic self that shines through in our better, no best moments.  We realize those parts, those moments when ugliness shone through despite our best efforts, or not. 

At this season, our minds wander through this ancient liturgy.  We aim to make sense of this tradition we treasure.  We struggle, often, as we wade through murky theologies, prayer that calls us to recognize our finite mortality and leaves no room to NOT question our deeds.  We think we know the litmus test for leading...or having led...a good life.  But how to know for sure?  What are the characteristics, the deeds, the words spoken that really matter?  We can, and must, use our sacred texts, our people’s teachings to guide us in this task.   

Our Jewish tradition lists the sins we have committed in our Vidui  - confession.  But it is also about the good we have done too.  We have to find a scale to help us balance, a way to reconcile the totality of our deeds, our character.  Determining the questions we must ask ourselves at this time of year to fully understand its gravity and possibility is the task.  In the Talmud, an image is created of a similar moment on a grander scale, it is the ultimate judgment when that finite mortality is realized.  Sometimes I see it as beautiful and other times terrifying.  My rational mind steers me from this picture as anything but real.  But my yearning to know if I measure up, if we have any real sense of what the recipe for that good life truly is, leads me back to that image.  The great Talmudic sage Rava, who taught in the 3rd and 4th centuries, teaches us that when we enter in for judgement we are asked a series of questions, six questions.2 

Now consider for a moment this season.  Think about the acts of atonement in which we are charged to engage and now think about what we might be asked.  What are the most important questions, the queries that truly identify a woman’s character, that delve into the recesses of a man’s soul?  These six questions posed by Rava in the Talmud might surprise you, yet they are simple and to the point:  1) Were you honest in business?, 2) Did you set times for learning? 3) Did you procreate? 4) Did you anticipate redemption? 5) Did you pursue wisdom? and 6) Did you have the awe of heaven?    

Were you honest in business?  That is the first question.  Not a great question of belief, or faith, but searing right to the core of the issue perhaps.  As Rabbi Ron Wolfson writes, “Look carefully at the text.  It's not just about business.  Its about honesty, integrity, faithfulness.  If you are not honest in your business dealings, can you be trusted to be honest in other relationships.  If you are not honest with others, can you be honest with yourself?  If you are not faithful with others, can your faith in God be trusted?”  No matter what you believe about God judging or not, keeping records of every deed or not, “But would you be willing to concede that, as much as you would like to hide your “unfaithful” business dealings from others, you can’t hide them from yourself?”3  This first question begins the work on character and the second moves to your priorities.

Did you set times for learning?  In other words, it is a question about the priorities you set in your life.  Was intellectual growth, learning to distinguish one idea from another, exploring the value of things other than your bailiwick, what provided you material success, of import in your life?  Where does education rank amongst the activities in which you engaged?

This next question is more than meets the ear.  Did you procreate? Rava says we’ll be asked.  We can hear this question and automatically think about our own children, or perhaps even grandchildren.  Yet, Rashi’s comment on this question opens up so much more packed into it.  He says this is about connection, a connection to the generations.4  In other words, “Did you work to foster connection from one generation to another?”  Was being a link in the chain of tradition of value to you?  The progression to the next question is natural, from understanding how we did or did not link ourselves to the past and the future begs this next one.   

Did you anticipate redemption?  This is where my rational mind wanders a bit.  This is the point when I have a bit of trouble, yet this is not just about a physical, worldly redemption wrought by a Messiah.  Rather, it is a vision of living.  Did we see the world as improving from day to day, year to year?  And was this our responsibility?

Earlier in the questioning we were asked about study, now comes:  Did you pursue wisdom?  In our Jewish tradition we certainly use this word wisdom often.  We must consider the difference between wisdom and education.  We consider those with much experience wise.  However, it is not just having the experience that brings wisdom.  Rather, it is those who combine with the experiences time for reflection and consideration.  So, the question is really asking, did you take the time to reflect upon your experiences?  To draw from them?  To be grateful for having the opportunity to learn from them? 

And the final question brings us to the ultimate character question, a purpose of life question:  Did you have the awe of heaven?  I think it is safe to say that most, if not all, of us are in Tahoe partly because we love being surrounded by such natural beauty.  Yet, there are some with whom we share this planet that just don’t find that same sense of awe.  A couple years ago, Rachel and I were hiking in Desolation Wilderness and as we approached Eagle Lake from above, a woman was sitting looking out at the beauty and stopped to ask us, “Do you know where Desolation Wilderness is?”  We responded that, “basically you are in it now.”  The woman seemed puzzled and said, “really?  Cause I thought it was supposed to be overwhelmingly beautiful.”  Well, this question is about whether you find awe in our world, are you in awe of the creation that exists around us?  Did you have the awe of the mystery that bequeathed us this amazing and beautiful world to live in?  Do you rightly and consistently express gratitude simply for living? 

So now we have the litmus test, right?  At least one put forth over a millennia ago; a list of questions to measure our lives against.  Each of these six questions provide us the chance to analyze, to rethink our lives, our purpose.  But more, the give us the opportunity to consider our best self and hit CTRL+ALT+DEL to get that fresh start. 

Another way is a practice to assess oneself, to test one’s character; it is an accounting of one’s deeds, actions, words, an inner stock-taking if you will.  Some in our Jewish tradition call this the Cheshbon HaNefesh - An Accounting of the Soul.  This phrase comes to us from the early nineteenth century work by the same name.  It was written by Rabbi Menachem Mendel Leffin.  In this work, a Cheshbon HaNefesh is described as a daily practice of examining one’s deeds.  Leffin prescribes a process for discovering your unique practice, so that your undertaking is not only unique but authentic.  It is a reflection of yourself, or the core of your best self.  For if it were just a generic practice we might find a comparison to others, those maybe we look up to as the process.  But, that is not the point.  Each of us may be stamped with the imprint of the original human being, but we are all a varied amalgam of our own human experiences and influences.  We each have an authenticity we must discover, to which we must aspire. 

Once there was a rabbi named Zusya who loved God with all his heart and soul, and who treated all God’s creatures with respect and kindness. Rabbi Zusya studied Torah, kept Shabbat, visited the sick, and praised God for all the goodness in the world. Though he was not a rich man, Zusya gave generously to those in need. Students came from far and near, hoping to learn from this gentle and wise rabbi. Zusya often told his students, “Listen to the still, small voice inside you. Your neshamah will tell you how you must live and what you must do.”
 

Each day Rabbi Zusya”s students came to the House of Study, called the Bet Midrash, eager to learn what they could from him. One day, Zusya did not appear at the usual hour. His students waited all morning and through the afternoon. But Zusya did not come. By evening his students realized that something terrible must have happened. So they all rushed to Zusya’s house. The students knocked on the door. No one answered. They knocked more loudly and peered through the frost-covered windows. Finally, they heard a weak voice say, “Shalom aleichem, peace be with you. Come in.” The students entered Rabbi Zusya’s house. In the far corner of the room they saw the old rabbi lying huddled in bed, too ill to get up and greet them.
 

“Rabbi Zusya!” his students cried. “What has happened? How can we help you?”
“There is nothing you can do,” answered Zusya.  “I’m dying and I am very frightened.”
“Why are you afraid?” the youngest student asked. “Didn’t you teach us that all living things die?”
 

“Of course, every living thing must die some day,” said the Rabbi. The young student tried to comfort Rabbi Zusya saying, “Then why are you afraid? You have led such a good life. You have believed in God with a faith as strong as Abraham’s, and you have followed the commandments as carefully as Moses.”
 

“Thank you. But this is not why I am afraid,” explained the rabbi. “For if God should ask me why I did not act like Abraham, I can say that I was not Abraham. And if God asks me why I did not act like Rebecca or Moses, I can also say that I was not Rebecca or Moses.” Then the rabbi said, “But if God should ask me to account for the times when I did not act like Zusya, what shall I say then?”
 

The students were silent, for they understood Zusya’s final lesson. To do your best is to be yourself, to hear and follow the still, small voice of your own neshamah.5
We can only be ourselves, so why aim, strive, work tirelessly to be someone else? 

This is authenticity.  This is what it means to truly engage in the Days of Awe, in this season.  Each year we learn, grow, regress, miss the mark, achieve new things, overcome challenges, fail, succeed...and the list goes on.  This happens every year and each year we stand here, in this moment on the cusp of a new year together to explore the ways we can harness the best of our own person evolving, always becoming our potential.  Each year, our pinwheel spins, our hourglass endlessly flips as if stalled or overcome trying to be someone other than ourselves...  CTRL+ALT+DEL sets back on course to being us...to allow our natural growth and evolution to continue.

Judaism, too, is a process of evolution.  Reform Judaism is authentic Judaism.  Anyone who studies the texts of our tradition would have a hard time arguing that every generation doesn’t add to the law, the stories, the teachings and try to understand what is holy in each generation.  This, our tradition, looking at the questions of Rava, the Cheshbon HaNefesh of Rabbi Leffin and understanding Zusya’s fear of not being authentic, through our eyes is the purpose.  We intertwine ourselves constantly with the past, but being in the present and looking ahead.  This is authenticity.  When we do this and come out ready to move into the new year and confident it will bring us closer to that best self, then we hit those buttons, CTRL+ALT+DEL and step forward as we are ready to do.

As we welcome the year 5774, may each of us find meaningful ways for that reset, the fresh start.  May each of us use the chalk-dust left over on our boards of the past year as teachers and may we come ever closer to the authentic self within.

G’mar Chatimah Tovah - May we all find good in the coming year and Shanah Tovah U’mitukah - A Sweet, Happy and Good New Year!



Footnotes:
1 A Fresh Start, by Virginia Hughes.  July/August 2013, Mental Floss, Vol. 12, Issue 5.  P. 37.
2 Talmud Bavli Shabbat 31a.
3 Wolfson, Ron.  The Seven Questions You’re Asked in Heaven:  Reviewing & Renewing Your Life.  p. 10.
4 Rashi on the third question of Rava on BT Shabbat 31a.  His comment is:  היינו חוסן
5 This version of the Reb Zusya story comes from Partners with God by Gila Gevirtz.

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