Jim Croce -Time In A Bottle (Lyrics) 

In the 1979s when I sang in the Temple Emanuel choir we sang this song as part of National Jewish Music month. It still gets me everytime…and it is perfect for tonight. (Although standing here in this place, on this bimah it was all I could do not to become weepy!)

We just heard Jordana and Matt reflect on our theme for the year. And Mazel Tov in advance! To everything there is a season and a time for everything under heaven. This is our study theme for the year. It has lots to do with lifecycle, and hope and resilience and in the course of the next 10 Days, the Yamim Noraim, the Days of Atonement and Wonder and Awe we will explore them together. 

Perhaps you are sitting there thinking, whether on Zoom or in the room, what does this have to do with me? Perhaps you are wondering about this G-d sitting on a throne evaluating your deeds and inscribing you in the Book of Life, hopefully for a blessing. Perhaps you are thinking that you can do enough tefilah, teshuvah and tzedakah, prayer, repentance and charity to avert the decree. That’s OK.  

Perhaps you use this time that you have set aside to think about your family, your community, your connection to your tradition. That’s OK too. 

Perhaps you are like the story, Goldstein comes to synagogue to talk to G-d. Goldberg comes to synagogue to talk to Goldstein. That’s OK too. 

For many, this has been a hard year. This is not where any of us would have hoped for one year ago when services were all on Zoom. One year ago I stood in this sanctuary, by myself. It was just me and Ali Mikyska in the building. Today, we are thankful that Ali is still here. We are grateful that all of you are still here, whether in the room or on Zoom.  

Together, over time, we are going to figure this all out. Together.  

Time is sacred in Judaism. We sanctify time. We separate time. We make time holy. We mark big moments and little moments. When we make kiddush, for Shabbat or like later this evening for a festival we take the ordinary and make it extraordinary.  

When we gather for special occasions, we recite Shehecheyanu, giving thanks to G-d for giving us life, for sustaining us and enabling us to reach this very moment. We say it in the plural. Because we are still here as a community. Perhaps a bit battered and bruised. But here. After almost 130 years.  

But the shehechianu should have an asterik, as Leah Berkowitz teaches. While the statements still ring true, we aren’t through this yet and we haven’t quite made it. We are together again to welcome the New Year, with some joy and some trepidation. Some with courage and some with fear about our personal health and safety.  

Candi Stanton wrote another song that was new to me, that captures our mixed emotions:

“Praise God till your blessings come down
Praise God till your situation turns around
You gotta to lift up your voice and say:
Hallelujah anyway.” 

Hallelujah, anyway. That’s what we sing in Psalm 150. 
Hallelujah.
Praise God in God’s sanctuary; In this beautiful world G-d created.
praise Him in the dome of the sky, G-d’s own stronghold 
Praise G-d for mighty acts; G-d’s exceeding greatness.
Praise G-d with blasts of the shofar; that we will hear tomorrow
with harp and lyre. with timbrel and dance; with lute and pipe. with resounding cymbals and with loud-clashing cymbals. 
Kol Haneshameah t’hallleyah
Let all that breathes praise the LORD.
Hallelujah. 

No matter who you are, no matter what our circumstances or our beliefs, with every breath of our being, we praise G-d.  

This is a jar. In this jar I am going to put some rocks that I found in Michigan. Is it full?
What about now as I add a few pebbles?
What about now as I add some sand?
What about now as I add some water?
Now it is really full.  

The jar is your life. The rocks are the truly important things, like family, health, relationships. If all else was lost and only the rocks remained, as the professor who first did this experiment explained, your life would still be meaningful. The pebbles are the other things that matter to you—like your job or school. The sand is the small stuff and material possession. If you put the sand into the jar first, there is no room for the rocks or the pebbles.  

 The same can be applied to your lives. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are truly important. Pay attention to the things in life that are critical to your happiness and well-being. Take time to get medical checkups, play with your children, go for a run, write your grandmother a letter. There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, or fix the disposal. Take care of the rocks first – things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just pebbles and sand and water. 

Tonight, is the end of Labor Day weekend, for some the last gasp of summer, maybe time for one last trip to the beach, or a last BBQ. You have made it a priority to be here, in the room. Thank you for spending time with us. This summer we have been looking at Mary Oliver’s poem, Summer Day. For me, it addresses the priorities that the experiment just forced us to think about.  

Mary Oliver’s poem The Summer Day  

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, 
how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, 
how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life? 

This is a year where I am forced to confront that question. What do I want to do with my one wild and precious life/ I still want to travel–and see the Alps as the question in the Seven @uesionts You’re asked in Heaven. I want to learn to dance. Finally. I want to finish hiking those mountains. I want to paint more and quilt more. I want to love more fully. I want to spend more time with Simon. If I could save time in a bottle…but those are your priorities. This period of reflection causes us to ask, “What will you do with your one wild and precious life.”

Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav who himself struggled with depression believed two things that have come down to us. The first, “All the world is a narrow bridge. The central thing is to not be afraid.” The second is that we should each, individually, just like Mary Oliver and Henry David Thoreau, spend an hour outside in nature pouring our heart out to the Divine. 

As we continue mark this time as a time to rebuild our lives and our priorities, Mary Oliver’s questions are haunting on this Rosh Hashanah, the day we consider the Birthday of the World. Who made the world? And what will you do with your one wild and precious life? That’s what this moment demands of us.  

So while we aren’t ready to say “we made it,” and we aren’t quite ready for bircat ha-gomel. we will recite Shecheyanu again. Now. Because in spite of all that we hoped for that hasn’t quite arrived, we are so grateful for all that we still have, for how far we’ve come, and for the opportunity to greet another year together. So we’re gonna lift our voice and say: Hallelujah Anyway. Shehecheyanu Anyway.

Then it will be a sweet new year.