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Rosh Hashanah 5767

Can we rescue ourselves from our busy lives?

Rabbi Benjamin Sharff

 

A Jewish woman is wheeling her granddaughter in a baby carriage.  When suddenly a woman crosses her path and stops her.  “What a beautiful baby,” she says.  The new grandmother replies, “Ah, this is nothing!  You should see her pictures.”

 

Some of you might have heard that recently Joy and I were blessed with the addition of Emily Hannah to our family.  Emily was born on August 21 at around 5:57 am weighing in at 7lbs and 7oz. 

 

Thank God, Joy’s labor was short to say the least.  Actually it was so quick that, we in fact did not have any time to bring anything in with us into labor and delivery.  No suitcase.  No change of clothes.  Not even the CD player, which we had bought specifically for this blessed event. 

 

So when Emily was born the nurse looked at me and said, “Would like to take some pictures.”  I just looked at her dumbfounded.  The camera, along with everything else, was still in the car.  Thinking not so quickly, I kissed my wife, stood awestruck in the presence of our new baby for a brief moment, and then raced back to the parking lot to grab the digital camera.  Fortunately for me, I got back just in time to catch Emily in the act of being weighed. 

 

Still in my dumbfounded state, I was able to compose a picture of Emily laying on the scale, naked as the day she was born.  I now have in my possession a picture that I should be able to use to embarrass her for the rest of her life.  I can use it for her consecration, her Bat Mitzvah (which we have already picked out the date for), and yes even her gulp, wedding. 

 

The great thing about digital cameras is that not only can you edit the pictures before you get them printed out, but it makes it very easy to email them as well.  Which I was able to do.  So I sent out an email announcing the birth of Emily Hannah along with pictures stating when she was born, how much she weighed, and that she was 16 inches long.  Emily was actually 19 inches long, but in my delirious state I got the numbers confused.  Fortunately my mother-in-law caught the problem and promptly called Joy to tell her of the error.  My mother-in-law was extremely worried that people would think Emily was short.

 

After this Joy and I also called family and friends on our various cell phones.  Can you imagine what the birthing process must have been like without all of this technology?  Of course I say that as the one who did not give birth.

 

But what we have found most interesting is how much our lives have changed since Emily was born.  Many people were very kind to point out just how exhausting having a baby can be.  Of course it is.  But knowing you are going to be sleep deprived and unable to hold a continuous thought for more than three seconds is very different from actually going through it.  Talking about how all you are going to focus on after the birth of your child is what goes and comes out of your child is very different than actually finding yourself focusing exclusively on what goes in and comes out of your child.  Knowing is certainly different from experiencing. 

 

Fortunately Emily allows me time to exercise in the morning, usually because she takes a nap right after breakfast.  During this time I find myself watching the Today Show.  Even though they have recently undergone a major staffing change and set renovation, the topics tend to be very similar day to day.  One of the major themes they have tackled recently is the idea that our lives are simply too busy.  With all of the technology at our fingertips, with the desire to get our kids into the best colleges, we find ourselves pulled in more directions than ever.

 

The result of which can have drastic effects on us and on our families.  Nowadays families are spending less and less time together.  Parents have to make dates with their spouses in order to find time for one another.  And the sit-down family dinner has gone the way of the dodo. 

 

And what is true of us al achat cama v’cama, so much the more so, is also true of our children and our grandchildren as well.  Our kids have play dates.  They also have more homework than ever.  They are even getting homework nowadays in kindergarten.  They also have more practices than you can shake a stick at. They have band, football, soccer, basketball, baseball, ballet, karate, and dance.  And this does not even include the demands of Hebrew school, Sunday school, Bar and Bat Mitzvah lessons, Hebrew High, and Confirmation. 

 

We are in a word, over-planned, overexerted, over scheduled, or in the words of J.R.R. Tolkein, we find ourselves feeling thin like so much butter spread over too much bread.

 

Yet we press on.  And as I look at my new daughter, I cannot help but wonder if that is the same fate for Joy and I as well.  We want her to succeed.  We want her to have all of the best opportunities, but at what cost?

 

We ask ourselves, is there anyway to succeed, have a meaningful life, and still be able to live life to its fullest without this craziness?  Marketers would tell us yes.  All we need are the newest technological gadgets, the newest cars, and/or the best clothes.  In their slick advertising they convince us that these items will solve all of our problems.  And because of this we seek out the newest technology, the latest model cars, the new style of clothes. 

 

But do they really fulfill us?  Of course not.   But at least it helps to keep the stock market rolling.  Or as my parents would say whenever they would buy something new that they could not easily justify, “At least it is good for the economy.”

Our tradition teaches us that there is nothing wrong with owning stuff.  
As our great rabbinic sage Tevye taught, “Oh, dear Lord!  
You made many, many poor people I realize, of course, 
it's no shame to be poor.  But it's no great honor either.”

But the problem is when we let our possessions own us.  As the Mishnah teaches (Pirkei Avot 4:1) “Who is rich?  He who rejoices in his portion.”  How hard is it to really rejoice in our portion.  We have been blessed with good family, loving friends, yet there is still that nagging feeling that there is something else out there.  Something that maybe can be controlled or owned.  And that something, that “it” will fulfill us in ways that everything else cannot.  This is the motivation that drives us, rather than a sense of contentment in the goodness and blessings in our own lives.

 

And so we seek and we search.  We desire.  We covet.  Or more simply put, we want.  We want this.  We want that.  We want what is best.  We want to succeed.  We want our children to succeed.  We want our grandchildren to succeed.  Meanwhile, we miss out on life as it unfolds before our eyes.

 

This is because we already have so much craziness in our own lives.  We have a tremendous number of obligations that demand a significant amount of time and energy.  And we justify spending all of our time and energy on these obligations stating that this is where we are needed.

 

But interestingly enough, one is never remembered simply for fulfilling their obligations.  Instead one is most often remembered for the life they lived.  When we talk about someone in the past tense we ask: Did they live a rich and fulfilling life, or did they live a life scrambling from one thing to the next?  Were they racing towards their families, or racing away?  Did they come to value that which should be valued?  And if so how can we do the same in our own lives.  How can we come to treasure the many blessings we have in family, friends and security?  What process will enable us to covet a little less and be content a little more? 

 

This can only be done if we first understand what is motivating us.  In his book Ehyeh: A Kabbalah for Tomorrow, Arthur Green asks: “How do we learn to accept that we cannot do it all, that we will never be quite perfect?”  For it is this striving for perfection, this desire to be everything to everyone, which serves as our undoing.  It is only when we come to peace with the notion that not everything has to be perfect can we find contentment in our lives.  But how do we come to accept that which is not perfect in our lives?

 

The first step towards inner peace involves genuinely pausing to examine our own personal selves.  Imagine if you could take a picture of your soul at this very moment.  Imagine if there was a new digital camera we could use to examine the inner workings of our own hearts.  The great thing about taking pictures is that it is not an instantaneous process.  One has to stop, turn on the camera, compose the shot, focus, and then take the picture.  In order to do this we have to pause, refocus, compose, and then and only then can we look at the picture we have taken.  But one would never take just a single picture.  Nowadays we take many.  I know this for a personal fact.  The paparazzi have not taken as many pictures of celebrities as we have of Emily.

 

And if we wish to take many pictures of our soul, we should be doing it on a regular basis.  It is not enough merely to re-evaluate our lives on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.  It has to be a continual process, done day by day.  And only if we focus on this task with meaning and sincerity can we truly make changes in our own lives.

 

For our lives are only out of control if we allow them to be that way.  Instead of rushing from obligation to obligation, perhaps we should be asking ourselves, how much of this do we really need to be doing?  Do our kids need another ballet practice?  Or do they need a quiet dinner at home with mom and dad?  Do I really need that latest cell phone or car or other gadget?  Or is mine working just fine?  Do I really need to bring my blackberry on vacation with me, or can they get by at work without me for a week?

 

These are not easy questions to answer.  And there are some obligations we must fulfill.  There are demands on us from work and other sources.  Time is finite and we all still need to get at least 7 hours of sleep.  But what we all too often do is allow ourselves to get caught up in the little details of life.

 

As Arthur Green goes on to argue, “as the Ba’al Shem Tov learned and taught that you should always keep your eyes on the big picture.  We should not let ourselves get too caught up in the details nor let the means become ends in themselves.  Despite what is often taught (and misunderstood), Judaism is not all about the details.  It’s about loving God, sharing that love with God’s creatures, making the universe one, and doing it through joy and celebration of life.”

 

All too soon, I know in my heart Emily will be growing up.  She will pull away from Joy and I and head out into the larger world.  Though I am still looking for a Jewish convent for her when she turns fourteen, but that is another story.  So even in our state of sleep deprivation, we are trying to cherish these special moments knowing that the laundry still needs to be done, food needs to be made, and floors need to be vacuumed.  But you know what, there are times where it can wait.  A messy house is not the end of the world.  But missing out on special moments is.  I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

 

For as Rabbi Akabya ben Mahalaleel once said in the Mishnah (Pirkei Avot 3:1): “Consider three things and you will not fall into the hands of transgression.  Know from where you came, where you are going, and before whom you are about to give account and reckoning.”  In order to change we have to know where we came from, the commitments we made, and why we made them, and how they either led us away from who we want to be or towards our true selves. 

 

And only by knowing this can we then begin to change the direction of where we are going.  For there are many we give an accounting and reckoning to: God, family, friends, but perhaps most importantly, we should also give an accounting to our own selves.  As Shakespeare once noted, “to thine own self be true.”  And only with an honest audit of our innermost being can we begin the process of changing the course of our own lives. 

 

The journey is not easy.  And we may not always like what we unearth.  But dealing with that which we most dislike in our own selves is the beginning of the long process of forgiveness, whose reward is the transformation and elevation of our own lives.  By focusing on that which is truly the most important: family, friends, God, and a tradition worth celebrating will we find the spiritual, metaphysical, and personal fulfillment that all too often seems beyond our grasp.

May this Rosh Hashanah serve to be a springboard for all of us.  May we leap into the New Year looking to forgive the lack of perfection in our lives and come to understand that there is actually very little we can control.  Yet even in the face of this reality there is so much more to be appreciated and celebrated.  And may God and our tradition serve as a source of inspiration to help us in this most challenging of endeavors.  For teshuvah, a return to all, that which is holy, only truly starts when we begin by forgiving ourselves.