Shanah Tovah.
When I was in college I took on a personal motto, “everyone is dumb.”
Maybe some of you can relate to that feeling. Your peers make ill informed comments in class. Your teachers don’t know how to use technology well or they assign work that doesn’t make sense. Your parents don’t understand your needs like they once did. Politicians continue to enrich themselves and their peers at the expense of their voters.
Eventually, I realized that if everyone is dumb, then I too am dumb. I didn’t get into the best colleges. I didn’t make lots of money. I have struggled in my relationships with loved ones.
And yet, I still have confidence in myself. I think I am great in lots of ways… that I don’t need to get into now.
So what do I do with this contradiction?
The Rebbe Simcha Bunim of Pesicha suggests that we carry around two slips of paper at all times, one in each pocket:
When you are feeling too down on yourself, reach into one pocket and read these words: Bishvili Nivra Ha’olam, For my sake the world was created.
And if you are feeling too proud, you can reach into your other pocket and read: Anee Afar Va’ayfer, I am but dust and ashes.
Reb Simcha says further, that “we are each the joining of two worlds. We are fashioned from clay, but our spirit is the breath of Adonai.”
If we dig deeper into this teaching, I see two conflicting lessons. Sometimes Judaism asks us to acknowledge or create separation in our lives. Sometimes it asks us to be the bridge.
For instance:
We can choose to separate time into sacred Shabbat and the mundane week, or food into kosher and treyf. Separation.
AND
We can choose to attach fringes to the corners of our clothes. We can choose to not cut the corners of our hair as a reminder of our duties to people in need. Unity.
What I see flowing through these opposite impulses is intentionality. We take significant time and attention to create these moments of separation and unity for ourselves.
As I have gotten older, I have learned how these moments of intentionality can enrich my relationships with the world and people around me. Taking on mitzvot forces me to pause and consider an action before taking it.
I wake up each morning and the first thing I do is express my gratitude for being alive, something that was very difficult for me when I was in your shoes.
Taking that extra second to say Modeh Ani before picking up my phone pushes me further into the feeling of gratitude, even on days when I feel like dirt, and even if I am looking at texts or twitter immediately after that sacred moment.
I did not always have this relationship with mitzvot. I was not raised in an observant home, and I did not feel compelled by a sense of commandedness. Even today, I struggle with relating to a Creator who tells me how to live my life.
The Existentialist philosopher Martin Buber, in his book I and Thou helped me to develop a more comfortable relationship with the divine, way before I actively took on any mitzvot. When we are in relationship with anyone, We can treat them as an It or as a Thou. An I-It relationship is a shallow one, because we treat the other being like an object that does not possess its own feelings.
It is easy to feel like an It in relation to Hashem, so in turn we might treat Hashem like an It. Perhaps a static angry bearded man.
In an I-Thou relationship, we recognize the fullness of the other being and treat them with the full respect we try to show ourselves. Hashem is flawed like us, and learns like we do.
Like any other loving relationship, communication with Hashem is necessary for the health of the relationship.
Therefore, Judaism particularly values speech acts. Hashem created the universe and humanity with speech. When we pray, we are meant to hear our own words, and to understand them. That is why the rabbis of the Talmud specified that we can say the Shema and the Amidah in English. The things you verbalize impact you and the world around you.
When we say our confessional prayers today, the Vidui and the Al Cheyt, they are grammatically in the plural. We have sinned, not I. We engage in this radical speech act because Judaism is a communal religion. We are commanded to take responsibility for our peers, even when it feels challenging. When we genuinely engage with these confessions, we strengthen the I-Thou relationship between ourselves and Hashem, and ourselves and the people we share community with.
We live in an I-It world, where separation is more natural than unity.
In a world built upon white supremacist capitalism: [When I delivered this sermon, I tapped my chest during the following section, like during the Vidui]
It is natural for people to lose jobs to layoffs amidst record corporate stock buybacks.
It is natural for people to lose homes due to mounting medical debt, when every other wealthy country has affordable, accessible healthcare.
It is natural for young women to be thrown in jail for having abortions, or die in hospital beds for having been refused them.
It is natural for over a million Americans to die by a preventable pandemic, and we continue on like nothing happened.
It is natural for queer people, people of color and Jews to be slaughtered by Nazis with weapons of war.
It is natural for Jews to commit pogroms against Palestinians.
It is natural that I need to monitor the pollution levels wherever I go because the toxic air makes me sick.
All of this is normal and natural, but it does not need to be. We have the power to make choices as individuals and members of communities.
Reb Simcha Bunim’s advice teaches that I am no better than anyone else experiencing hardship in the world. We are all made of stardust, and will one day be returned to the earth.
None of the advantages and disadvantages I have in life are any indication of my moral, intellectual, or spiritual value. Bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people every single day.
Judaism forces us to live in both pockets at all times. Active engagement with the world around us forces us to be both the I and the Thou all throughout our days.
May 5784 be a year of listening and intention for us all.
Gmar Chatimah Tovah, May You All Have a Good Seal in the Book of Life.
When I was in college I took on a personal motto, “everyone is dumb.”
Maybe some of you can relate to that feeling. Your peers make ill informed comments in class. Your teachers don’t know how to use technology well or they assign work that doesn’t make sense. Your parents don’t understand your needs like they once did. Politicians continue to enrich themselves and their peers at the expense of their voters.
Eventually, I realized that if everyone is dumb, then I too am dumb. I didn’t get into the best colleges. I didn’t make lots of money. I have struggled in my relationships with loved ones.
And yet, I still have confidence in myself. I think I am great in lots of ways… that I don’t need to get into now.
So what do I do with this contradiction?
The Rebbe Simcha Bunim of Pesicha suggests that we carry around two slips of paper at all times, one in each pocket:
When you are feeling too down on yourself, reach into one pocket and read these words: Bishvili Nivra Ha’olam, For my sake the world was created.
And if you are feeling too proud, you can reach into your other pocket and read: Anee Afar Va’ayfer, I am but dust and ashes.
Reb Simcha says further, that “we are each the joining of two worlds. We are fashioned from clay, but our spirit is the breath of Adonai.”
If we dig deeper into this teaching, I see two conflicting lessons. Sometimes Judaism asks us to acknowledge or create separation in our lives. Sometimes it asks us to be the bridge.
For instance:
We can choose to separate time into sacred Shabbat and the mundane week, or food into kosher and treyf. Separation.
AND
We can choose to attach fringes to the corners of our clothes. We can choose to not cut the corners of our hair as a reminder of our duties to people in need. Unity.
What I see flowing through these opposite impulses is intentionality. We take significant time and attention to create these moments of separation and unity for ourselves.
As I have gotten older, I have learned how these moments of intentionality can enrich my relationships with the world and people around me. Taking on mitzvot forces me to pause and consider an action before taking it.
I wake up each morning and the first thing I do is express my gratitude for being alive, something that was very difficult for me when I was in your shoes.
Taking that extra second to say Modeh Ani before picking up my phone pushes me further into the feeling of gratitude, even on days when I feel like dirt, and even if I am looking at texts or twitter immediately after that sacred moment.
I did not always have this relationship with mitzvot. I was not raised in an observant home, and I did not feel compelled by a sense of commandedness. Even today, I struggle with relating to a Creator who tells me how to live my life.
The Existentialist philosopher Martin Buber, in his book I and Thou helped me to develop a more comfortable relationship with the divine, way before I actively took on any mitzvot. When we are in relationship with anyone, We can treat them as an It or as a Thou. An I-It relationship is a shallow one, because we treat the other being like an object that does not possess its own feelings.
It is easy to feel like an It in relation to Hashem, so in turn we might treat Hashem like an It. Perhaps a static angry bearded man.
In an I-Thou relationship, we recognize the fullness of the other being and treat them with the full respect we try to show ourselves. Hashem is flawed like us, and learns like we do.
Like any other loving relationship, communication with Hashem is necessary for the health of the relationship.
Therefore, Judaism particularly values speech acts. Hashem created the universe and humanity with speech. When we pray, we are meant to hear our own words, and to understand them. That is why the rabbis of the Talmud specified that we can say the Shema and the Amidah in English. The things you verbalize impact you and the world around you.
When we say our confessional prayers today, the Vidui and the Al Cheyt, they are grammatically in the plural. We have sinned, not I. We engage in this radical speech act because Judaism is a communal religion. We are commanded to take responsibility for our peers, even when it feels challenging. When we genuinely engage with these confessions, we strengthen the I-Thou relationship between ourselves and Hashem, and ourselves and the people we share community with.
We live in an I-It world, where separation is more natural than unity.
In a world built upon white supremacist capitalism: [When I delivered this sermon, I tapped my chest during the following section, like during the Vidui]
It is natural for people to lose jobs to layoffs amidst record corporate stock buybacks.
It is natural for people to lose homes due to mounting medical debt, when every other wealthy country has affordable, accessible healthcare.
It is natural for young women to be thrown in jail for having abortions, or die in hospital beds for having been refused them.
It is natural for over a million Americans to die by a preventable pandemic, and we continue on like nothing happened.
It is natural for queer people, people of color and Jews to be slaughtered by Nazis with weapons of war.
It is natural for Jews to commit pogroms against Palestinians.
It is natural that I need to monitor the pollution levels wherever I go because the toxic air makes me sick.
All of this is normal and natural, but it does not need to be. We have the power to make choices as individuals and members of communities.
Reb Simcha Bunim’s advice teaches that I am no better than anyone else experiencing hardship in the world. We are all made of stardust, and will one day be returned to the earth.
None of the advantages and disadvantages I have in life are any indication of my moral, intellectual, or spiritual value. Bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people every single day.
Judaism forces us to live in both pockets at all times. Active engagement with the world around us forces us to be both the I and the Thou all throughout our days.
May 5784 be a year of listening and intention for us all.
Gmar Chatimah Tovah, May You All Have a Good Seal in the Book of Life.