Rosh Hashanah 5776

(This is an excerpt from the remarks I will share at this year's Rosh Hashanah services at Northwestern University)

So, here we are:  Rosh Hashanah.  The moment when we join millions of Jews around the world in reflection on the timeless questions: 

How have I done in the past year?  How could I do better?

Or, as Michael Keaton’s Birdman might put it:  “How did we end up here?”

That question feels especially poignant for me this year as I think not just about the challenges we’ve faced on campus, but challenges in the world.  There are mind-boggling numbers of people fleeing horrific violence in Syria and Iraq, looking for places of refuge, risking and sometimes losing their lives in hopes of finding a better home, and often instead finding fear, hatred, or indifference. 

But we don’t have to look so far from home.  There have already been over 300 people shot and killed in Chicago in 2015, and over 1500 others shot and wounded.  The vast majority of victims of these crimes are Black and Latino. 

Late last week, on a night when the news in the world included the migrant crisis in Europe, the Iran deal’s fate in the U.S. Congress, and the ongoing violence in Syria, Afghanistan, Iraq, and elsewhere, I happened to turn on CNN with the volume off, and this is what I saw:  Four talking heads on screen, smiling and joking with each other about the main “news” of the day.  On the screen, in loud, large font, was the headline, which was either “Trump bashes GOP rivals” or “GOP rivals bash Trump”.  The sad, most absurd fact of the matter:  It doesn’t matter which one it actually was.

How did we end up here, indeed.

About a thousand years ago, Maimonides – the Rambam – wrote the Mishneh Torah, a compendium of Jewish law, and in it he included Hilchot Teshuvah, the Laws of Repentance.  In there, he wrote: 

The blowing of the shofar on Rosh HaShanah hints at something, i.e., “Wake up, sleepers, from your sleep! And slumberers, arise from your slumber! Search your ways and return in teshuvah and remember your Creator! Those who are infatuated all their years with vanity and nothingness, examine your souls and improve your ways and your motivations!"

Therefore a person needs to see himself all year long as if he is half innocent and half guilty, and also [see] the whole world - half innocent and half guilty. If he sins one sin - he has tilted himself and the whole world to the side of guilt and caused its destruction. If she does one mitzvah - she has tilted herself and the whole world to the side of innocence and caused redemption and rescue.

Arise from your slumber.

Friends, I am not naïve.  I find it hard to wrap my head around the idea that sinning one sin could not only tilt myself but the whole world into guilt, or that doing one mitzvah, one good deed, could tilt me and the whole world to the side of innocence. 

But this idea forces me to at least try to examine my every thought, my every intention, my every action, and to ask myself:  Am I making things better, or worse?  Am I focusing on things that matter, or things that are trivial (or worse)?

Last week, at Hillel’s Freshman Fest, returning students shared advice with the freshmen.  One said, “Hillel is great because it provides a safe space for people of differing opinions, whether it’s about Israel or anything else.”  It made me proud to hear this, but I thought to myself:  that’s not enough.  It’s not enough for us to create a place where students feel safe.  I want students to feel safe and challenged – I want safe space that inspires students to really explore their beliefs, test their assumptions, question themselves and each other.  But even that’s not enough – I want students to then go out into the arena of the campus, and the community beyond.  Turn your words into actions that make a real and positive impact. 

How did we end up here?  And what are we going to do about it?

Last Rosh Hashanah, just after the Gaza war, I asked:  How can we manage a world filled with risks and pain and evil while not becoming paralyzed with despair and hopelessness?

My response then was that, in the face of darkness and challenge, we must embrace the light and the hope that the coming year will be better than the last one. 

I still believe that – but I really don’t know whether, on balance, this past year was better than the previous one.  I’m grateful – beyond belief, I’m grateful – that my own loved ones have had relatively good health and that the year went pretty well for us, but I know so many who have suffered losses, so many who are dealing with debilitating and life-threatening illnesses, so many who are hurting – and that’s before I read the newspaper or turn on NPR. 

So, yes, we must embrace the light and the hope that the coming year will be better than the last one.  But we also have to take a further step – Rambam would have us sense that our souls are hanging in the balance, and the entire world is hanging in the balance, in every action we take.  And there’s no way to avoid it – not taking action, being paralyzed, counts just as much as taking action. 

If we were to live our lives this way, then every moment we would ask ourselves:

·      Which ways can we bring more kindness, more compassion, more understanding into the world?

·      How can we make choices that are thoughtful, that are meaningful, and whose consequences we own and face with equanimity and courage?

·      And what can I do here, now, today?  Each waking moment of each day?

Especially at a time when there is harrowing pain in the world, when it feels there are tremendous challenges that face us as Jews and as human beings, I am grateful that I have the privilege of accompanying hundreds of students on their journey toward strengthening their Jewish identities in ways that are meaningful to them.  It is an honor and an awesome responsibility, and I feel tremendously fortunate that this is my work.

As Rosh Hashanah arrives to provide us with a mini-retreat to explore the meaning of our lives, my wish for each of us is that we embrace this precious opportunity for reflection and re-commitment to what is truly important.

On behalf of my wife Claire, our sons Jacob (who is celebrating his fifth High Holidays) and Ethan (celebrating his second), and on behalf of NU Hillel:  Shana tova u’metuka – may each and every one of you have a sweet, healthy, and happy New Year.

Since my remarks were a bit somber, I’d like to end with a song that Jacob has been singing around the house all week (and wants me to share with all of you).  It goes like this (to the tune of “Oh My Darling”):

“Dip the apple, in the honey

Make a bracha, loud and clear

L’shana-tova / u’metuka

Have a Happy, Sweet New Year!”

(Jacob asked me to be sure that you know – there’s a second verse):

“Dip the challah, in the honey

Make a bracha, loud and clear

L’shana-tova / u’metuka

Have a Happy, Sweet New Year!””