Isolated, But Never Alone

Back in April, when families who lost loved fighting in the DIF, families expressed how hard it was to not be able to go to the military cemetery.

Sivan Rahav-Meir noted that these families lamented not being able to invite friends and relatives over.

This is not the only example of folks feeling alone and isolated in the recent months, but it is surely one of the most poignant.

I can only imagine how difficult it was to observe Yom Hazikaron alone, in isolation.

In a profound way, Yom Kippur encapsulates a sense of remoteness and distance from others.

Listen to the way that the Torah describes the service of the Kohein on Yom Kippur.

On its own, this description is nothing special, but we must remember that it comes right after Aharon’s two sons died:

Just when Aharon may have needed to be with others, he is told that he must isolate himself.

The isolation of the Kohein Gadol, however, started long before he actually went into the Kodsah Hakedoshim.

The Mishnah in Masechet Yoma describes, at great length and with great drama the process leading up to Yom Kippur:

The Kohein Gadol is isolated / sequestered / essentially quarantined in preparation for the Avodah in the Beit Hamikdash.

I can only imagine how the Kohein Gadol felt. All alone...with so much pressure.

Isolation is hard. I suspect that lots of people do not like being alone.

Rabbi Abraham Twerski recalled the time he learned how much he disliked being alone with himself for too long:

Why don’t we like being alone? Why is it that as soon as we get into a car we put on the radio or a podcast? What is it about being alone with our own thoughts that terrifies us.

Rabbi Twerski came to a stunning conclusion:

I think that one of the purposes of the focus on Yom Kippur on the Kohein Gadol’s isolation is to serve as an antidote to this.

Let’s not forget that the “Bible tells us that God created a single individual, a lonely being.” (Rabbi J. B. Solovetichik. The Community. Pg. 8)

This fact emphasizes that each individual - YOU - contributes something unique and is irreplaceable. In Rabbi Soloveitchik’s words: “Judaism has always looked upon the individual as if he were a little world...as a natural being exists once in an eternity.” (Rabbi J. B. Solovetichik. The Community. Pg. 10)

Consider what the Kohein Gadol accomplishes on Yom Kippur. He secures atonement for himself, his family and ALL of Bnei Yisrael….all on his own.

I believe the message here is clear. Like the Kohein Gadol, even when alone, we are capable of great things.

We can do great things because each and everyone of us is great!

I just started reading Ilana Kurshan’s memoir titled: “If All The Seas Were Ink”. It is an account of her journey into Daf Yomi, the practice of studying a page of Talmud each day.

After a divorce after a very brief first marriage, Ilana found herself alone in Israel with few friends and no family. She describes her aloneness and her small apartment:

Here, her only companions were her books. But then something happened. In an effort to develop a sense of purpose she dove into the study of Daf Yomi, a demanding practice.

In a talk she gave to UOS members last week she described how she even continued studying right after giving birth to twins. She said that her hands were always full because she was holding the babies, but she found a way.

For Ilana Kurshon, her loneliness produced greatness. The book that she wrote, one born, at first, out of loneliness, has invited and inspired hundreds of others to study Daf Yomi as well.

On Yom Kippur, we are reminded that we too, like the Kohein Gadol can accomplish greatness. It reminds us that Yom Kippur is not just about remorse over our past sins, but it is also about what’s next for us.

We should ask ourselves: What will my next great accomplishment be? What project will I take on? Think you cannot do it, think again. Remember what the Koheim Gadol accomplished. Remember that God first created one, singular, lonely individual. Each and every one of us is an entire world. Time alone with ourselves, in a sauna or in our living room, should not scare us...because we are great!

Yet, there is something else we can learn from the Kohein Gadol’s Yom Kippur Journey. Even as our tradition emphasizes self worth - we do sometimes feel alone. To this our Torah teaches that we are never really alone. Hashem Ro’i - God is my shepherd, we say in Tehillim

In the Mussaf of Yom Kippur we recite the following lines:

It is true that the image of sheep leaves us with the feeling of helplessness, but there is another important element inherent in the comparison to sheep. If we are sheep, then there is a shepherd. There is someone in charge. In this prayer we are asking God to take care of us and to guide us because deep down we know that we are really not alone. Passing before God like sheep is not simply a technical process of passing by an anonymous shepherd, but rather, a shepherd that knows each and everyone of their sheep well and who cares about them.

Today we focus on God’s personal touch.

Consider this. Our greatest possession, the Torah was given to Moshe when he was in a quarantine. Moshe spent forty days and forty nights on Har Sinai alone, but not really alone. Sometimes it is the solitude that reveals God to us. When all of the other things in our life are removed, we have an easier time recognizing God.

This is what Yom Kippur is about. No food, no drink, no marital relations...these life affirming activities - important and holy in their own right - are forbidden on this day. One day a year, we dedicate our physical beings - to the extent possible to being alone...with God.

The Talmud could not be any clearer in its description of our closeness to God on this day.

Of course, not only is God always with us, but we must always remember that we are part of a project called the Jewish people and in that sense, we are never alone.

I recently had the opportunity to read parts of Natan Sharansky’s new book, co-authored by my friend Gil Troy. The book is called “Never Alone”.

In the introduction, they record a conversation they had with another collaborator in the book named David.

‘“David exclaimed. You’ve got your title. After seventy-five years of ‘never again,’ we must remember that when you belong to the Jewish people you are ‘never alone.’”

This idea is what kept Natan Sharansky sane and alive during his eight years in the Soviet Gulag.

In another telling and emotional part of the book, Sharansky recalls a trip back to Moscow many years after his release when he returned to the courtroom where he was sentenced to prison and hard labor:

These words testify to the power of believing that we belong!

Finally, while it is true that each and everyone is amazing and it is true that we are never really alone, but still...some people feel alone. There is one more part of the Yom Kippur service that is instructive.

To me, one of the most interesting aspects of the Avodah is the last part.

After the Kohein Gadol accomplishes the great feat of achieving forgiveness for all of the Jewish people and after he has been in solitude with God...even after both of those great glorifications of being alone, he ends his day surrounded by family and friends.

We read in the Mishna and in the account of the Yom Kippur service in our Machzor:

He ends the day surrounded by loved ones. When I think about the arc of the day, I can’t help but be moved by this.

I can imagine that the end of the Kohein Gadol’s day could have gone differently. The Kohein Gadol could have finished the avodah, changed out of his work clothes and went home. We would have hailed it as modesty. But that is not the end of the tory. There is a gathering. I am tempted to argue that the gathering is part of the Avodah. After all, it is stated in the Mishnayot that details that day’s obligations.

It is true that God started creation with a single being, but soon after that God declared:

What this amounts to is that Yom Kippur is a day of loneliness and togetherness. The Kohein Gadol must spend part of the day alone in order to reach the greatest heights, but, he must also end the day in the company of others. If any of these two ingredients is missing then the Avodah is incomplete.

Some of you may know that I am a big fan of the television show The West Wing. Leo McGarry, President Bartlet’s Chief of Staff offered the following advice to Josh Lyman while Josh was going through a particularly hard time and felt that no one could help him. Leo, who had also been through hard times offers to help Josh. Here is what he says:

We all know people who feel alone. Some could be physically isolated while others may be in the presence of others, but still feel abandoned.

The only real way to help is to be there.The good news is that since most of us have probably felt lonely at times in our life, whe know just how to help get others out of the hole.

We have to be the friend in this story...we have to be Leo McGarry and get into the hole with our friends.

We have a Talmudic example of Leo McGarry, it is Mashiach. Pay attention to this powerful teaching.

Who is the Mashiach - who is our saviour? The one who sits with the needy...the one who gets into the hole…

In times like this, we can be...we have to be the Mashiach, the one who sits with those in need.

One of the grieving parents who was unable to mark Yom Hazikaron with loved ones hit on this very idea when he said: “In a certain sense, during this time of remembrance, we have all been “high priests.” We have been very alone, but within our isolation we have thought about everyone else. We are physically connected both to those who are distant to us in this world and to those who are present in the next.

The isolation of the Kohein Gadol on Yom Kippur reminds us of three essential ideas.

1. We are - all of us - great. We should be comfortable with ourselves and always know that we are a world unto ourselves. We do not need others to provide self worth.

2. Even if we feel alone - we can reach out to God. We are sheep and He is our shepard. Hashem Ro’i - God is may Shephard - Lo Echsar - therefore, I lack nothing.

3. Even acknowledging these things for ourselves, others we know, may still feel alone. That signals our obligation to get into the hole with them and use whatever we needed to help ourselves to help others.

Shel Silverstein, the author of the Giving Tree, wrote a poem - titled ’The Little Boy and the Old man.’: