Our next guest blogger is Hazzan Marcia Lane, a cantor in New York and New Jersey who just spent several years as Kolbo (rabbi and cantor) in Tennesee. Continuing last night’s theme of about Kol Nidre, she speaks eloquently about the power of music. It is well worth it to click through to the link to hear Shlomo Carlebach’s song.

“It’s that time of year again. The old joke goes that the Yamim Nora’im — the Days of Awe — are always either early or late. They never come on time! Well, this year, as in most years, they feel awfully early to me. It’s not that I am unprepared for the davenning, because the music remains pretty much the same year to year. It’s that I’m unprepared for the climb up the staircase.

The Jewish year is a cycle of holidays that goes around and around in a circle, but each year we are different people by virtue of being one year older. Our goals get clearer or fuzzier. Our resolve to live a particular kind of life is stronger, or we perhaps can’t see our way. Things change. We change. This year’s Rosh Hashannah is not the same as last year’s. This year’s fast on Yom Kippur will be different from last year’s. We do not simply go in circles. The word teshuvah means turning around, or returning to our truest selves.

Rabbi Shlomo Carelbach, z’l, was more famous as a storyteller and a troubador than for sermons. He composed this chant, which seems to embody the process of teshuva.

 Return again. Return again. Return to the land of your soul.
Return to who you are. Return to what you are. Return to where you are
Born and reborn again.
Return again. Return again. Return to the land of your soul.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Ahmh8Kt7qM

We aspire to ascend, step by step, through our lives. As the Kaddish for the High Holy Days says, “L’eilah ul’eilah,” higher and higher. For me, the question remains: How, exactly, do I return? And how do I know what would constitute the authentic, best ‘me’?

The music of the holidays is designed to help with that aspiration: it is, on the one hand, built of a series of motifs that are recognizable to every Jew. So the congregational moments are familiar and sing-able for all of us. But there are also moments of choral or cantorial music that strain to lift our thoughts and our prayers toward God.

“Ochilah l’Eyl, achaleh fanav, eshalah mimenu ma’aney lashon.”

I put my hope in God, I seek God’s presence, I ask for the gift of expression.”

These are the words of the cantor’s prayer that comes in the middle of the Musaf Amidah. At that moment the hazzan asks not for blessings of wealth or health or even wisdom. All we ask for is the ability to express the innermost thoughts and fears of the congregation. We pray for the ability to carry the congregation’s hopes higher toward the divine. Step by step, through the Musaf Amidah the hazzan travels upward, not in a direct line, but in a spiral. I’ve sung these notes before, but now I am a different person than I was last year. I’ve prayed these words before, but I am one year older, sadder, wiser, happier. The person I am this year says to You, as I said last year, “Shma koleynu!” Hear the collective voice of Your people who have come before You. Notice that we have changed, hopefully for the better. We have turned and returned to You. S’lach lanu, m’chal lanu, ka-peir lanu. Forgive us. Pardon us. Grant us atonement.

On the Saturday night before Rosh Hashanah, Jews gather to start the formal recitation of Selichot prayers, these very ones we have been talking about.

We know that by Nehemiah’s time a national day of fasting included the 13 Attributes. “Standing in their places, they read from the scroll of the Teaching of the Lord their God for one-fourth day, and for another fourth they confessed and prostrated themselves before the Lord their God.” (Nehemiah 9:3) And continued: “But You, being a forgiving God, gracious and compassionate, long-suffering and abounding in faithfulness, did not abandon them (Nehemiah 9:17).” In the Talmud we learn specifically that the order of the Selichot service contains the 13 Attributes:
“And ‘the Lord passed by before him and proclaimed [etc.]. (Ex. 34:6) R. Johanan said: Were it not written in the text, it would be impossible for us to say such a thing; this verse teaches us that the Holy One, blessed be He, drew his robe round Him like the reader8 of congregation and showed Moses the order of prayer. He said to him: Whenever Israel sins, let them carry out this service before Me, and I will forgive them. ‘The Lord, the Lord’: I am the Eternal before a man sins and the same10 after a man sins and repents. ‘A God merciful and gracious:’ Rab Judah said: A covenant has been made with the thirteen attributes that they will not be turned away empty-handed, as it says, Behold I make a covenant. (Ex. 34)” (Rosh Hashanah 17b)

Traditionally performed at midnight, this is one of my favorite services of the year. This is how I prepare to lead the congregation in the weeks to come. For me this is a pause, a spiritual moment before what has become more of a show. This year was no exception. This year my congregation, Kneseth Israel joined with Rabbi Maralee Gordon and her congregation from McHenry County and we did “Selichot” together.

There is something very powerful about hearing these very words from the 13 Attributes and something very comforting in the idea that G-d taught these very words to Moses and then taught Moses the Selichot prayers while wrapping Himself in his robe (or tallit!)

We started with Havdalah with the lights dimmed in the sanctuary. There is something about Havdalah that always gets me. Perhaps it is the sweet wine, perhaps it is the braided candle, on fire, lighting the whole room, perhaps it is the spices, reminding us that even though Shabbat is ending it will come again.

Perhaps on Selichot, it is all of it, reminding us that even though this is liminal time and may seem bittersweet, the new year is coming and that fills us, fills me with hope. After the lights were turned back on, we began the Selichot service. During which, three times, Kerena Moeller played Kol Nidre on the cello, to get us “in the mood”. The haunting music, especially on the cello brings me to a different place, transports me across the miles to other Selichot services, other Kol Nidre services. It transports me across the generations. It takes me beyond the words. The Kol Nidre words are a legalistic formula in Aramaic. The Kol Nidre music is sublime. We did three writing exercises while listening to Kol Nidre, asking people to write what came up for them. For me the music starts out mournful. Perhaps the music hears or feels our own regrets. Then it slowly builds to something that reminds me of some of the ballets my daughter performed in. Something that makes me think of what the world to come might be like, some kind of heavenly music. I can imagine the angels playing lutes or harps and welcoming me. Telling me that I am loved by G-d. The music washes over me and lifts me higher. I feel like I have begun the process of teshuvah, of returning to a pure state. Then finally I feel like I am forgiven for the wrongs I have done during this past year.

Menachem Mendl of Kotsk felt similarly. He said, after attending a wedding where he heard a young man playing a violin. He called to the violinist and asked him to play Kol Nidre. Hearing its somber, moving tones, Rabbi Menachem Mendel said, “It is possible to be moved to do t’shuvah even by hearing Kol Nidre played on the violin.” Franz Rosenzweig was ready to convert to Christianity, he changed his mind after hearing the strains of Kol Nidre in Berlin while wandering the streets in 1913. He went on to become one of our most important philosophers, writing the Star of Redemption.

Rabbi Daniel Zemel teaches in All these Vows, edited by Lawrence A. Hoffman, “Once a year on Yom Kippur we are told to reckon our accounts. Kol Nidre is the signal that we may do so safely. We may strip ourselves here and confess how hard it all is, as if the words of Kol Nidre were really the case, as if, that is the terrible burden we ill admit to carrying doesn’t count, even though we know that it does. We are being asked to consider our place in the universe as the image of God that God has left behind for all of history to find and know. Kol Nidre creates a safe space for this consideration of the everyday. Where do my allegiances lie? How do I spend my time? Who is important to me? How do I treat the people I love most? How do I treat the people I see least—the garage attendant who brings me my car, the restaurant server, the busboy? What kind of competitor am I? How do I look in the eyes of others? Am I a friend?”

We then performed our own version of a tashlich service. People wrote out things that they had felt they had missed the mark in washable marker. Then they cast them into large bowls of water. After chanting the traditional Ashamnu, the confession of community sins, we listened to Kol Nidre again. This time people made their own alphabetical list, their own heshbon hanefesh, an accounting of the soul. However, instead of beating ourselves up, which we all tend to do, and Ashamnu demands it, literally as we pound our chests for things few of us have done, like become a murderer, we wrote our own lists of the things we like about ourselves. Active, bright, courageous and compassionate, driven, eloquent, empathetic, friendly, fun-loving, generous, gregarious, etc. You get the idea. Now you try it. If you had to defend yourself in front of the heavenly court with the backdrop of Kol Nidre music playing, what would you say about yourself?

We ended the evening with a single shofar blast, a tekiah gedola, waking us up and reminding us that time is growing short for teshuvah. And of course, a few noshes so the congregations could mingle. It was a powerful evening, for me, for my colleague and for our two congregations.

Atem nitzavim kulchem….Today, all of you, all of us stand. Or maybe we sit, if we need to.

What does that mean that we all stand?

All of us have varying abilities. Today we pause to spotlight those people with differing ability, all of whom stood together to hear Moses’ farewell address. The men, the women and children, the stranger in our gate, the wood choppers and water drawers. Everyone.

We are told, “You shall not curse the deaf, nor put a stumbling block before the blind.” (Lev 19:14). We know that Jacob limped for the rest of his life after his all night wrestling. We know that Isaac was never the same after his trip up the mountain when he was nearly sacrificed. We know that Moses was a man of slow speech.

Pirke Avot teaches something important when dealing with various kinds of students: “There are four types of student. One who is quick to understand and quick to forget–his flaw cancels his virtue. One who is slow to understand and slow to forget–his virtue cancels his flaw. One who is quick to understand and slow to forget–his is a good portion. One who is slow to understand and quick to forget–his is a bad portion.”

It also teaches that “there are four types among those who attend the study hall. One who goes but does nothing–has gained the rewards of going. One who does [study] but does not go to the study hall–has gained the rewards of doing. One who goes and does, is a chasid, a righteous one. One who neither goes nor does, is wicked.”

Also,” there are four types among those who sit before the sages: the sponge, the funnel, the strainer and the sieve. The sponge absorbs all. The funnel takes in at one end and lets it out the other. The strainer rejects the wine and retains the sediment. The sieve rejects the coarse flour and retains the fine flour.” (Chapter 5, Pirke Avot)

The rabbis knew that there were different learning styles! Now you teachers who are here already know that some of us are visual learners, some are auditory, some are logical, some are physical, some are verbal. Some of us are social and learn better in a group. Some of us learn better as individuals. Some pick things up seemingly instantaneously by osmosis and some have to really wrestle with a text, turn it over and over again and make it our own.

For most of us, the research shows that we can only retain about seven things in our “working memory”. That is why telephone numbers used to only be seven numbers. Before they added area codes and before we all had cell phones with programmed numbers! We also know from research that it takes 10,000 hours of practice in something to really become successful. Whether that is being a professional athlete, a professional dancer, a cellist from the symphony orchestra or just reading Torah.

For me reading Torah is a struggle. It takes practice and hard work. In college, after turning in a paper that eventually won a national award I was diagnosed as dyslexic. There had been a typo on every page. Only I didn’t see them. My professor, being kind, told me to go to the learning center and be tested, retype the paper and he would regrade it and then submit it. Until then I had been called lazy. I would understand math concepts and copy the problem off the board wrong and get the wrong answer. I never could spell well in any language. After I went to the Learning Center and had a real diagnosis, I was able to learn about accommodations—I paid a typist and a proofreader. Touch tone phones and their musical notes helped with telephone numbers. And thank G-d for spell check!

But chanting Torah that goes from right to left, in a different alphabet, has no vowels, and an additional musical notation system that requires reading above and below the consonants, that remained hard! I am one of the lucky ones. I found the right people who could help and ultimately it hasn’t held me back from my access to Judaism or from leading a successful life.

Others are not so lucky. In Andover, half of the students in my religious school had learning plans in their public schools. Several of them had been to other synagogues first. Two families had severely disabled children. One was severely autistic; the other had Downs Syndrome. Both had been turned away from synagogues because the educational director felt that they could not accommodate them. Besides these children would never have a Bar or Bat Mitzvah. Not true. There is a very important movie, Praying with Lior that addresses a child with Downs Syndrome who does go on to have his Bar Mitzvah. It is a touching and poignant movie, one that we should all watch because it teaches us much about the nature of prayer, about a boy’s relationship with G-d, about how he can, in fact, lead his congregation.

My dean, Dr. Ora Horn Prouser wrote a book, Esau’s Blessing, How the Bible Embraces Those with Special Needs. In the process of studying the Bible in depth, she became convinced that many of our Biblical ancestors had some limiting ability. The first one she examines is Esau who she believes had ADHD. Once building her case effectively, Ora goes on to ask the question, “How does it affect our reading to view Esau as having symptoms of ADHD? Clearly we are able to explain Esau’s impulsive behavior, the ease with which he is distracted, and his desire to be active in the out-of-doors. We can imagine that the very characteristics for which he is reviled in later literature may be the result of a neurological condition…we should view the Bible not as a model for proper approaches to ADHD, but as a cautionary tale about the improper approach. It is a reading to sensitize us so that today’s Esaus may be spared  “a very great and bitter cry.”

In her book she goes on to outline similar issues with Isaac and mental retardation, Joseph and giftedness, Moses and speech disorders, Miriam and gender education. Samson and Conduct Disorders, Mephiboshet and Jacob and how to deal with physical disabilities and some Biblical personalities and depression. It is a wonderful book. For families dealing with any of these issues, it gives them role models. They don’t feel so isolated and alone. In her conclusion she focuses on blindness. Two of our patriarchs go blind with old age. She points out that “lack of sight does not mean lack of insight. Blindness, a physical disability, is no indication of mental or spiritual weakness. Thus the commandment to protect the blind is not motivated by pity for the disabled and it is not meant to imply that the blind person is a burden to society. Rather, it prescribes the kindness we are expected to show to those who need extra consideration.”

How do we do that as a congregation? It means we welcome everyone, even those with differing needs, especially those with differing abilities. It means we make the bimah accessible or as we are doing this morning, bringing the mike and the Torah down so that people have access to it. It means that our sound system needs to work and that maybe I need to print copies of sermons in advance so people who have a hard time hearing can hear what I say. It means that we partner with Keshet, an organization that provides programs like the one Ted Frisch enjoys. They will be coming to CKI later this fall to help our parents and our teachers understand learning styles so that we can maximize our ability to help students, kids or adults, of all abilities, not just those we label special needs.  The mission of Keshet is as “the premier provider of educational, recreational, vocational and social programs for individuals with intellectual disabilities operating according to traditional Jewish values.  Our mission is to enhance independence and integration to optimize personal potential.” That’s what we a synagogue for all—to enhance independence and integration. That is what embracing diversity is about.

We are told that we are all created b’tzelm elohim, in the image of G-d. Like today’s parsha, that means all of us, men, women children, the leaders among us and the woodchoppers and waterdrawers, the aged, infirm, those who can learn lots and those who struggle, those who can hear or can see and those who cannot. All of us are a part of G-d’s creation and all of us are worthy of respect. Marian Wright Edelman of the Children’s Defense Fund had it right this week, she said in her back to school, beginning of the new year message:

“You see a lot of teachers judge and stigmatize their students based on where they come from. A lot of my teachers thought that since I was from the South End of Louisville and I grew up in Section 8 housing that I wasn’t capable of doing all the things that I did, and the first time that I really felt like I was someone, it was the first time my fifth grade teacher actually pulled me to the side and said, ‘What can I do for you to help you as a student?’ And I ask my students that now. I pull them to the side and I say, ‘What can I do as an adult to help you?’. . . I feel like every time I talk to someone, I should instill something in them, and I want that in return. And that happens just through treating people with love.” The answer is simple, then, really. It is about treating people with love. That’s it.

Atem nitzavim kulchem. We all stood (or maybe if we needed to sat). Choose life that you may live. Today we choose life and Judaism—for everyone, of all abilities.

Yesterday our guest blogger talked about emet, truth as one of the 13 Attributes. Today’s guest blogger, Risa Cohen, also adds to our understanding. Risa is a member at Congregation Kneseth Israel and works in the insurance industry at the corporate level as a risk manager and IT person. This is what she says:

“My favorite word in Hebrew has always been emet. It is the first. middle and last letter of the alphabet. Truth is  just that, the beginning, the middle and the end of a story, a plot and a life. I am not sure of what truth or for a fact whose truth.  More importantly, in my opinion, our G-d is that thread or attribute that connects the story. I am not sure I am always reading the story correctly, but through my confidence that there must be a story that has meaning for the tragedies and joys in our lives and our ability to handle them, so I am confident that G-d is truth in its purest form, until humans interfere with that truth.”

Risa is correct, G-d is truth. So much so that Emet, Truth, is another name for G-d. I too like the idea that word is spelled with the first, the last and middle letter of the alef bet, this makes Truth, G-d, all encompassing, or as she so eloquently said the thread that connects the story of our lives. A powerful thought.

Sometimes our understanding of a passage is enriched by other religious traditions. Such is the case with our next entry. Padre Frito is an Episcopal priest who has become a friend and a mentor. He shares his wisdom with us, attribute by attribute. One of the things he reminds us that every translation is indeed a commentary. He uses the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible. This enhances some of his points. I answer his commentary with my own below in Italics.

by Padre Frito (aka Meshugenah Goy)

Exodus 34:6-7 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

⁶ The Lord passed before him, and proclaimed, “The Lord, the Lord,
a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, ⁷ keeping steadfast love for the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, yet by no means clearing the guilty, but visiting the iniquity of the parents upon the children and the children’s children, to the third and the fourth generation.”

1. Adonai, The Lord
   The Lord of “community”. G-d called the children of Israel, a community, to move from slavery to freedom.  No Torah, no rules, only a relationship with an unseen and unknown god who communicated with one man.  “I will be your G-d and you will be my people.”  To forgive there must be TRUST between both parties.  It had to be tough being community to trust in this one G-d they had never seen but had heard the stories of this one G-d – the G-d of creation and relationship with their ancestors.

Not only unknown and unseen, but for all intensive purposes the reason they were enslaved. What could this G-d possibly do compared with Pharaoh who was also seen as a g-d? Trust and understanding their place in history was an important part to gaining faith.

2. Adonai, The Lord
The Lord of “individual”.   Moses.  Born of Hebrew slaves, his mother hid her son in the bulrushes to save his life, discovered and taken into the house of Pharaoh, educated and knowing he was neither fully Egyptian nor Hebrew.  Seeing the injustice and desiring deep within something better for both people.  Yet, there would be no change of Pharaoh’s heart.  Moses took justice into his own hands when the Egyptian was beating the Hebrew slave, murdering the Egyptian.  God uses individuals many times to bring about change within communities and society.  Was there any forgiveness here?  I don’t see it in the story and we don’t know if the fugitive Moses ever asked G-d for forgiveness for this death.  Fleeing from Egypt, Moses doesn’t realize what G-d has in store for him.  Maybe Moses’ forgiveness came by way of going back to face Pharaoh and to lead the Hebrew children out of Egypt.

The question of why G-d hardened Pharaoh’s heart is an important one. Aren’t all people entitled to repent, make teshuva, seek forgiveness until the day of their death? But Pharaoh keeps making choices that essentially harden his own heart. That argument makes some sense to me until I realize that the Egyptians are punished as well. Then I am reminded that the Egyptians didn’t stop Pharaoh. Your question about did Moses seek forgiveness from G-d for murdering the taskmaster is one I have not considered. Intriguing.

3. El, God
It is nice to have your very own G-d.  If we are honest we have at one time or another wanted God to smite our enemies, curse our enemies, or at least give them a nasty paper cut for treating us – G-d’s children badly.  But G-d is creator of all and G-d of all.  G-d in His wisdom has chosen communities and people to represent him to the rest of the world – to be an example to others about this crazy G-d who wants to have a relationship with his creation.  Anne Lamont, one of my favorite spiritual authors reminds us that God cannot be tamed or domesticated when she writes, “You can safely assume you’ve created G-d in your own image when it turns out that G-d hates all the same people you do.”   A forgiving G-d is not an intellectual or copyrighted property by anyone or community. G-d created the best in all of creation and us so that we can call out the best in each other and our communities so that we can forgive each other when we fail to live up to loving G-d and our neighbors as ourselves.

We talk about the fact that each of the patriarchs (and matriarchs) had their own vision of the one G-d. That’s why in our prayer Avot, the rabbis said the G-d of our ancestors, the G-d of Abraham, the G-d of Isaac, the G-d of Jacob when it could have just said the G-d of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Love the line a “forgiving G-d is not an intellectual or copyrighted property.”

4. Rachum Merciful
An Anglican priest penned the following words to a beloved hymn that sums up for me character of G-d as merciful.  Here is part of those words from the hymn There’s a Wideness in God’s Mercy:

There’s a wideness in God’s mercy,
Like the wideness of the sea;
There’s a kindness in His justice,
Which is more than liberty.

There is no place where earth’s sorrows
Are more felt than up in Heaven;
There is no place where earth’s failings
Have such kindly judgment given.

There is grace enough for thousands
Of new worlds as great as this;
There is room for fresh creations
In that upper home of bliss.

For the love of God is broader
Than the measure of our mind;
And the heart of the Eternal
Is most wonderfully kind.

Souls of men! why will ye scatter
Like a crowd of frightened sheep?
Foolish hearts! why will ye wander

From a love so true and deep?
It is God: His love looks mighty,
But is mightier than it seems;
Tis our Father: and His fondness
Goes far out beyond our dreams.

But we make His love too narrow
By false limits of our own;
And we magnify His strictness
With a zeal He will not own

I like the idea of mercy being wide. There is a spaciousness. The idea that we should not make G-d’s love too narrow by limiting it ourselves fits with Rambam who said that we couldn’t discuss G-d because that would put a limit on G-d.  And the hymn is correct, we get trapped in thinking that if we are strict, G-d will love us more. Not true. The haftarah for Yom Kippur is clear. G-d does not want our sacrifices or our exacting fasts, G-d wants our acts of love and kindness. Feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, freeing the captive.

5. Chanun, Gracious
When I think of graciousness my mind usually heads toward Emily Post or Leticia Baldridge (okay, you can kinda figure out how old I am).  But graciousness from a religious understanding is more about hospitality.  Both G-d and culture of the Near East was about hospitality.  My understanding of hospitality is to offer safety, comfort, food, rest and anything else the guest should need.  G-d invited the Hebrew children and all of us today into “gracious” space that allows a place for forgiveness to take place.  Forgiveness can only happen in places where gracious hospitality exists.   It was true at Sinai and true today in shuls, churches, mosques, and other houses of worship.  Wherever true graciousness exists forgiveness can take place.

I argued with my thesis advisor at length about grace. He said that it is not a Jewish concept. Yet here it is. I like the connection you draw between hospitality and forgiveness. Our congregations need to be open wide, wide enough for everyone to enter. That is part of grace. Is grace distinct from graciousness? Some would argue that only G-d has grace. We, as humans, can have graciousness.

6. Erech apayim Slow to anger
Does G-d get angry?  It is one of those questions that my former spiritual director would say that it depends on what type of anger you are talking about.  There is “good” anger and there is “bad” anger.  Good anger is a hot white holy anger, it is about shame and honor and is displeased by bad behavior by individuals and community.  Holy anger still loves the one who has wronged them.  Holy anger never hates, seeks destruction or annihilation.  Do we get angry?  Of course, but is it good anger or bad anger.

And how quickly does it “blow over.” Is it OK to have righteous anger? Can we separate righteous anger from other angers? Whose righteousness? I am not sure about your use of the word shame. Shame is different from embarrassment or guilt. It is a difficult emotion to heal from, very deep.

7. Rav Chesed, Abundant in goodness
JHWH Jireh, God our provider.  Too often we take EVERYTHING FOR GRANTED. Creation, all that sustains our lives (oxygen, food, animals, each other).  G-d provided all of this to us for our nourishment, enjoyment, stewardship and care of.  We complain we don’t have what we need or enough because someone else has more.  But when we journey through scripture we see God providing for Noah, Abraham and Sarah, Joseph, Moses, the children of Israel, the prophets and so on.  All that is GOOD has been given to us but seldom do we thank G-d with gratitude.  Instead we do it out of ritual or habit.  Even when we are forgetful to say thanks God still is good to us.  The story that impacts me most about goodness is when Jesus heals the 10 lepers and only one comes back to say thanks.  I want to be that one that recognizes and shows thanks for God’s goodness.

The rabbis taught that we should say 100 blessings of gratitude a day. Some days that is easier than others. Recognizing that goodness comes from G-d is important. One of those blessings says, “Praised are You, Lord our G-d, who forms light and creates darkness, who makes peace and creates all things.” All things come from G-d, good and bad. It can be a hard message. The attribute says that G-d abounds in lovingkindness, in chesed. Abundant love. There are enough resources. There is enough G-d. There is enough love.

8. Emet, truth
G-d is not afraid of our honesty.  But we are afraid of G-d when we sin.  Adam and Eve hiding, Abraham lying about Sarah being his sister, Jacob deceiving Isaac about birthright and David lying to the prophet Nathan on the murder of Uriah.  The ancients were not as concerned about right and wrong in the legal sense as they were about honor and shame in relationship (i.e. Honor thy father and mother).  A relationship needs to be based on truth.  But G-d shows over and over again his forgiveness to each of our fore fathers and mothers, and to us when we “fess” up.  We have to be honest to receive true forgiveness.

Emet is one of my favorite Hebrew words. The first, the last and the middle letter of the Hebrew alefbet. Another name for G-d. G-d does demand our truthfulness. G-d knows when we are lying. Perhaps what G-d really demands is that we become honest with ourselves. Then maybe we can feel G-d’s forgiveness that is there for all of us—if we are honest.

9. Notzer chesed l’alaphim, Showing compassion to a thousand generations
When I think of compassion I am reminded of the terribly grumpy and vindictive prophet Jonah.  Rather than take a message of repentance and forgiveness to people who were not part of “God’s chosen”, he would rather G-d destroy the city and people of Ninevah.  But the people do repent and seek God’s repentance receiving G-d’s forgiveness.  Jonah was more put out by G-d asking him to do something out of his comfort zone with people he did not believe deserved to be forgiven.  Do I believe that everyone is redeemable?  Am I willing to accept the other when they do repent and forgive?  Why should I only receive forgiveness and not my neighbor?

Jonah actually repeats some of the 13 Attributes in his argument, reminding G-d of G-d’s own nature: “He prayed to the Lord, saying, “O, Lord, isn’t this just what I said when I was still in my own country? That is why I fled beforehand to Tarshish. For I know that You are a compassionate and gracious[1] God, slow to anger, abounding in kindness, renouncing punishment.” (Jonah 4:2) We live in the hope that G-d does show compassion and lovingkindness to the thousandth generation, and then a thousandth generations beyond that.

10. Noseh avon, Forgiving iniquity
David knew something about getting caught in sin and deception when Nathan confronted him about the murder of Uriah.  David knew the depth of his own depravity and he experienced the height of G-d’s forgiveness.  David became a man after G-d’s own heart I believe because he embraced G-d’s forgiving love.  We too can learn the lesson of G-d’s forgiving our sins.  Can we embrace G-d’s forgiveness as David did?  David would not have been able to write Psalm 103 if he had not embraced G-d’s forgiveness, “For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.”

It fascinated me that when President Clinton asked a rabbi how to repair his marriage, how to do teshuva, the rabbi referred him to Psalm 51, allegedly written by King David for the same transgressions. It says, in part:
Have mercy on me, O God,
According to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion
   

Blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.
For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is always before me.
Against you, you only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in your sight;
so you are right in your verdict and justified when you judge.

 Knowing that King David could pen prayers like this, and President Clinton could use them to seek forgiveness, is the spirit in which I approach the chaggim, holidays.

11. Noseh peshah, Transgression
In my tradition we pray, “And forgive us our trespasses and we forgive those who have trespassed against us.”  We are reminded that we sin by commission and omission in word, thought and deed every day.  BIG SINS and little sins against G-d, our neighbor and ourselves.  On the surface is looks pretty heavy, but if we are honest to G-d we step over others boundaries and our own.  The Torah was given to guide us to live in harmony with G-d and each other in community.  We can avoid transgression, breaking the known laws of G-d or the laws of loving G-d and neighbor, if we keep the Golden Rule of “doing unto others as we would have done unto us.”

Hillel said, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” The rest is commentary; go and study it.” While we are also taught to repent the day before we die, therefore every day, I am not sure that we actually sin every day.

12. Noseh chatah, Sin
For me sin is all about relationship.  I was taught that the Greek word for sin was “missing the mark” or “missing the target” when you think of archery and hitting the bulls eye on a target.  But that got interpreted by me as striving for perfection.  My definition of sin is whatever harms my relationship with God and others, whatever draws us away from G-d or each other is sin.  Whatever draws us closer to G-d and others is holy and good.  Sin is about broken relationship.  Forgiveness is about restored relationship with G-d and others.

The Hebrew for sin, chait, is also an archery term meaning to miss the mark. I am not sure the goal is perfection. Rather it is striving to hit the target. Most archers miss most of the time. The idea is we need to keep practicing. Baseball teams are lucky if they win .500. Hitters are lucky if their average is over 300. But we don’t call that a sin! I think what G-d demands is for us to try. Or in Micah’s words, “To justly, love mercy and walk humbly with G-d.”

13. V’nekah, and pardoning
Pardoning is the end of the verdict.  Knowing I have sinned or done the crime I expect to have the book thrown at me.  Judgment and knowing that I should make restitution and be penalized in some way.  With G-d all I can do is ask forgiveness.  There will always be consequences for my actions.  Maybe that is G-d’s judgment for my actions.  But pardoning is hearing forgiveness and BEING forgiven.

Pardoning always reminds me of the Thanksgiving turkey the president “pardons”. After a guilty verdict, someone can be pardoned, excused. That is being forgiven. Hearing that forgiveness given is important. That enables someone to move on. It is hard.

Every week we read a responsive prayer for peace after the Torah and Haftarah reading. It includes a line from the prophet Amos. “Let justice roll down like water, and righteousness as a mighty stream.” Every week I hear this in Martin Luther King’s deep, well measured preacher’s voice. It was part of his last speech, when he said “Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!” We have been a long journey as we get ever closer to Yom Kippur, ever closer to the Promised Land, a land flowing with milk and honey. Martin Luther King had a dream. In 2013 my dream would be similar to King’s. He had a dream that “this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed, “We hold these truths to be self –evident. That all men are created equal.” I would include women in that promise. We have a way to go for the dream to be fulfilled for blacks, Hispanics, immigrants and women. He had a dream that included the ability for sons of former slave and sons of former slave owners would be able to sit down together at a table.” Some of that dream has been accomplished. No matter what your politics it is thrilling that there is an African American in the White House. That his entertaining included a beer with a black Harvard professor and the arresting white police officer does show some progress. However, racial profiling is still rampant, in border states like Arizona and even in places like Hudson, New Hampshire. We live in a country where black men (and young boys) are afraid to walk down the street. He had a dream that his little girls would be judged not by the color of their skin but by their character. I do not think we have achieved that goal. He had a dream like Isaiah’s dream that every valley shall be exalted and every hill and mountain be made low. The rough places will be made plain and the crooked places be made straight. While I see this as poetic, King saw this as real. G-d is real. He added, “This is our hope.” He lived his life through faith, drawing on the theology of Moses and the prophets to bring Americans hope. With his faith he would be able to “hew out of a mountain of despair a stone of hope.” One of the names of G-d is “Tzur Yisrael,” the Rock of Israel. This Rock, hewn out of stone is what brought King hope. It is what gives me hope and courage. He knew the road would be difficult. It was. It continues to be. But through that faith, hope and courage, the nation could achieve his dream to “work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.” We are not yet there. Progress has been made since the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act were signed on the Religious Action Center desk. This is a nation that still discriminates. Where our justice system is not fair, where the scales of justice are not balanced. Where children, black children and white children, one out of four, still go to bed hungry. Where one out of four women are still sexually abused. Where not everyone has access to excellent medical care, to the best universities or to jobs when they are finished with school. I dream of a day when some of these issues are eradicated.

As a child I remember fondly going to peace rallies in Evanston and being part of the political process. I remember when my mother ran for park commissioner and almost got stabbed by someone from the John Birch Society. I remember when the KKK tried to come to Skokie. It was during those turbulent times that I got my start in social action. Not in a synagogue but out marching. Heschel said of marching with King that his feet were praying.  There is much work left to be done.

King understood G-d’s Thirteen Attributes. He understood the power of a dream and the reality of a vision. He understood the connection between the Biblical prophets and the quest for justice. Justice is one of G-d attributes. Working for justice is emulating G-d, doing G-d’s work here on earth. King joined a long line of dreamers—Jacob, Joseph, Moses, the prophets. As he himself pointed out so eloquently in that last speech. “Ours is not to finish the task. Neither are we free to ignore it.” What are your dreams, your visions for the new year or for this country? How can you help to make them real?

Our next guest blogger is Gareth Mann Sitz, a congregant at Congregation Kneseth Israel, a recently retired English, Spanish and theatre teacher and the creative director of FemmeProv, a local Elgin theatrical company. She grew up in a theatre household. She learned important things from her mother, a single parent, about the nature of G-d. She says:

“I believe that Judaism, at its best, instills in us an internal desire to lead a moral life and be a mensch, striving always to emulate the attributes of the divine.   When we model unconditional love, kindness, patience, and compassion, we pass on these traits to another generation.

My single mother worked hard to support me and my grandmother, and though she sent me to synagogue to get a religious education and frequently took me to Friday night services, she didn’t have a solid footing in Torah studies.  If anyone had asked her to name the attributes of the divine, she would have responded with a quizzical expression on her face. Yet she instinctively was a mensch, truly epitomizing God-like qualities.  She wasn’t trying to be a good person.  She just was.

Whatever mensch-like qualities I may have are a direct result of being raised by a woman of G-d.  As I’ve raised my three children, wishing so much their grandmother would have lived to enjoy them, my mother remains an internalized role model. When I find myself swathed in an overwhelming sense of unconditional love for others, I know that my God-fearing mother is the reason I care so much. When I listen intently to unending patter from a friend or family member, I recognize where my patience and kindness comes from.   I’m “slow to anger” because my mother rarely lost her temper with me, and I forgive others because I was always forgiven.

When children grow up with parents who don’t model God-like behavior, who abuse them in a multitude of ways, it is difficult for these children to face the world.  I believe that it’s possible to re-parent those who need that nurturing, and I believe that G-d’s love can work miracles.  The expression, “it takes a village to raise a child,” is meant for all of us—a reminder that we are instruments of the divine on this earth with the power to change lives.  We are all works-in-progress, and as we seek to let G-d’s attributes permeate our words and actions, we will always fall short, needing forgiveness for our transgressions and inability to always do what is right.  During Yom Kippur, we have the opportunity to rededicate ourselves to G-d’s ways, and as we atone for our sins, we strive once more to face the world –a world that needs each one of us to be a mensch.

When I let memories of my mother’s innate goodness fill my heart, I feel blessed indeed.  As I worship during the High Holy Days, I seek to reinforce my commitment to live my life like my mother the mensch.”

Gareth instinctively understands the connection between the 13 Attributes and good parenting. Her list reminds me of the “check-list” of the Woman of Valor. It would seem that both she and her mother were truly Women of Valor, those that fear (or I would prefer) revere the Lord, shall be praised. She also makes a strong case for the line in the Vahavta. “Teach them diligently.” Teach what? Teach the children diligently…or set their teeth on edge. As Gareth’s mother was an inspiration to her, so too has Gareth been an inspiration to several generations of children and grandchildren, students and and their children. Perhaps that is how G-d’s love and compassion extends to the thousand generation! How do you teach about G-d’s love and compassion to the next generation?By demonstrating it so that it is real. That’s what Gareth’s mother did, over and over again. How do you teach about G-d’s love and compassion in your own life?  How do you make children, your own or others feel loved and secure?

Memory and forgiveness. You can’t have one without the other. But we need patience too. Patience with others. Patience with ourselves. Patience with G-d. ”Patience. It’s a virtue,” is a common American phrase. I use it a lot, especially when stuck in traffic. Usually at a stoplight. Stoplights in Illinois seem to be longer than anywhere else I have lived! I have no patience, especially at stoplights. In Israel you hear people say, “Savlanut!” which is the modern Israeli equivalent. “Patience.” What the Hebrew in the Thirteen Attributes really says is that G-d is slow to anger, therefore patient. It doesn’t say that G-d never gets angry. G-d does get angry—with society in the time of Noah, with Sodom and Gemorah, with Pharaoh, with the Amalekites, with Moses, with Miriam and Aaron and with the people of Israel. However, it takes a long time for G-d to get to the boiling point, G-d is slow to anger. As a Bar Mitzvah student said recently, G-d doesn’t want to punish people. It has to be for a really big mistake.” Once G-d does punish people, the way it is spelled out in the Torah, it seems that G-d’s anger dissipates quickly. G-d does not seem to hold onto anger, does not hold grudges. In fact, G-d says that we should not hold onto grudges. As part of the famous verse in Leviticus, part of the “Holiness Code,” we learn, “You shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge against the children of your people. But you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:18).

Rambam teaches that when a sinner asks for forgiveness and is denied, “If they still won’t forgive he must ask him two or even three times. If they still won’t forgive him he should leave him alone and go away. This person who did not forgive is now the sinner.” These are important thoughts. G-d is patient and awaits the return of a sinner until the day of his or her death. Repenting and forgiving take patience. Sometimes we have to wait—at a stoplight, for a house to be ready to move into, for someone to come around and see things from our point of view. Sometimes, it takes patience for the healing necessary to move on with our lives. Patience with others, patience with ourselves and yes, even patience with G-d. How are you patient?

Yesterday I went to the Chicago Board of Rabbis meeting. It was a text study session. I really enjoyed looking at the Book of Daniel in depth and seeing its connections to Yom Kippur. That could be another blog at some point. But I was really challenged by a session led by Rabbi Josh Feigelson, the director of the i-center. He used a text by Vladimir Jankelvitch, Forgiveness, originally published in French as Le Pardon in 1967. Jankelvitch makes the point that “in order to forgive it is necessary to remember.” (p.55 of the English edition). What does that mean? So often we are told “forgive and forget”. But here we have just the opposite.

I think that there is a strong connection between forgiveness and memory. From a therapeutic standpoint we know that in order to forgive (and forgiveness is not always the goal) we first need to remember. It isn’t always easy to remember the pain, however, it ultimately helps. Jankelevitch continues that “Forgiveness undoes the last shackles that tie us down to the past, draw us backward and hold us down.”  I fought this sentence in the group at first. I didn’t want congregants to feel that if they don’t forgive they will always be stuck or think they are bad somehow because they are shackled. But look carefully at the language as others pointed out to me. First it is in the plural, “that tie us down.” This is a communal issue not a personal one. Second it says “the last shackles.” Forgiveness is a process that happens over time not all at once.

It reminds me of a story that Rabbi Harold Kushner tells in his book, How Good Do We Have To Be, “The embarrassing secret is that many of us are reluctant to forgive.  We nurture grievances because that makes us feel morally superior.  Withholding forgiveness gives us a sense of power, often power over someone who otherwise leaves us feeling powerless.  The only power we have over them is the power to remain angry at them. There may be a certain emotional satisfaction in claiming the role of victim, but it is a bad idea for two reasons.  First, it estranges you from a person you could be close to.  (And if it becomes a habit, as it all too often does, it estranges you from many people you could be close to.)  And secondly, it accustoms you to seeing yourself in the role of victim—helpless, passive, preyed upon by others.  Is that shallow feeling of moral superiority worth learning to see yourself that way?”

Kushner counseled a woman still angry with the husband who left her years ago.  He said, “I’m not asking you to forgive him because what he did wasn’t so terrible; it was terrible.  I’m suggesting that you forgive him because he doesn’t deserve to have this power to turn you into a bitter, resentful woman.  When he left, he gave up the right to inhabit your life and mind to the degree that you’re letting him.  Your being angry at him doesn’t harm him, but it hurts you.  It’s turning you into someone you don’t really want to be.  Release that anger, not for his sake—he probably doesn’t deserve it—but for your sake, so that the real you can reemerge.”

What I take away from these two writers is that we need to remember in order to forgive and we need to forgive but not forget, slowly over time, not because it is good for the one we are forgiving but because it can be better for ourselves. These are two important themes for the Days of Awe. Memory and Forgiveness. You can’t have one without the other.

Our next guest blogger has asked to be anonymous because of the sensitive nature of the topic. However, she has much to teach us about the nature of forgiveness, especially when a child commits suicide. She says:

“For most of my life, I was not a big believer in G-d.  Perhaps not the best thing to admit for someone who has chosen Jewish communal service as a pr0fession, but there it is.  I had as thoroughgoing a Jewish supplemental school education as any kid growing up in the suburbs in the 60’s, so I’m not sure how I developed such skepticism.  Perhaps it was observing Rose Kennedy at pretty close hand, wrapping herself in what I thought of as the mumbo-jumbo of the church in order to explain away the horror of what was happening in her family.

Saddled with these personal beliefs, or lack thereof, it nonetheless became my task to teach about G-d to other people’s children.  I came to terms with my assignment by asking them to think about what it means to be created in the image of G-d.  I suggested that perhaps it means to engage in what might be called G-d-like behavior.  We enumerated what that might look like, tried to practice it with mitzvah projects, and I was satisfied.

And then my son killed himself.  Every day since, the events of our lives together have run in my head in a never-ending loop, pausing only to give me an opportunity to regret something I said or did not, or did or did not.  Intellectually, I realize that it was mental illness that took him from me, but my personal experience tells me that we haven’t the power to forgive our transgressions, real or imagined.  It is, in fact, the G-d in my life, that G-d who forgives, and the occasional practice of what I hope is G-d-like behavior, that allows me to go on living.”

We learn from Job that sometimes it is better to say nothing in the face of unspeakable grief. Since our author was courageous enough to share deeply from within, I would ask that you hold comments on the blog. May our blogger continue to heal, continue to have courage, continue to find comfort in the G-d that forgives and in emulating G-d’s behavior.