Yom Kippur D'Var Torah 5762
September 27, 2001
by Robbi Gerry Serotta

D'Var Torah

Yom Kippur 5762

Every year Yom Kippur brings us a combination of contradictory emotions and experiences. We feel deep regret at our failures and we feel great hope that we can make changes. At some point during the day those who are fasting likely feel minor aches and pains?\then for some this is followed by light-headedness as our lightened bodies experience the physically and spiritual cleansing effects of a day completely devoid of ordinary routines and physical pleasures.

These are individual experiences, but our confessional prayers return us to the collective body and soul of the Jewish people as a whole. In ancient Israel, this day included national rites at the Temple. These rites could dramatically purge the experiences of an entire community in the past year. How deeply do we need such a way of getting beyond the painful year just completed, perhaps the most devoid of hope for the Jewish people since the end of World War II!

We feel, perhaps very much as if we are in the situation described by the editor of the Midrash on Psalms (Midrash Tehillim):

“God turned to the supplication of the destitute and did not spurn their prayer.” (Psalms 102:18)

Said Rabbi Yitzchak: This refers to the later generations who have no prophet and no priest to teach righteousness and no Holy Temple to atone for them; but one prayer is left them, which they pray on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Do not disdain it, for it is written: “And God did not spurn their prayer.”

I am not sure if the Midrash means to refer us to one single prayer in the Holy Day liturgy, but if so, it must surely be the “u’netanah tokef” prayer with its ultimately paradoxical elements. Our fate is signed and sealed at this moment, claims this liturgical poem, yet through acts of teshuvah (penitence), tzedakah (charity and justice), and tefilah (prayer and introspection), we can influence that fate.

I have always found that when I feel most profoundly the pain and suffering of the world and our Jewish community, two pieces of 20th century popular culture go to battle for my soul. First is an impulse, which I trace to Eastern religious philosophies mediated by the Beatles. We respond to “times of trouble” with the distancing of “let it be” or “lu y’hee,” in the Israeli version of this inclination to turn inward.

But, more frequently I am reminded of a bit of dialogue in the wonderfully moralistic movie classic, Casablanca. This dialogue resembles nothing so much as the Midrash that describes God and the angels debating whether or not such an imperfect world as ours should ever have been created.

Playing a role like the accusing angel, cynical and world-weary Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart) asks the anti-Nazi resistance leader, Victor Laszlo, whether its worth all the pain and frustration that is so present in his struggle:

Rick says, “Don’t you sometimes wonder if it’s worth all this? I mean what you’re fighting for.” Laszlo responds: “We might as well question why we breathe. If we stop breathing, we’ll die. If we stop fighting our enemies, the world will die.”

Then later responding to Rick’s cynical “What of it? Then it’ll be out of its misery, Victor Laszlo expresses a concept reflective of our High Holy Day season: “Each of us has destiny. For good or evil.”

This does not seem like a time for indifference, particularly for those Jews living in relative comfort in North America. There is too much at stake for our brothers and sisters in Israel and our cousins the Palestinians for us to “let it be.” In fact, the “let it be” attitude of the US administration has contributed to the deterioration of the situation. And, our ignorance of the day-to-day realities of Israeli and Palestinians cannot continue.

Nor is it likely that the “let it be” attitude of the current administration toward global, international capitalism is likely to reflect our Jewish concerns for the dignity of human labor and our spiritual concerns for the welfare of our planet.

Our typical distance from these two conflicts means that there will be great truths spoken in our confessional prayers this Yom Kippur. We have sinned, we have defrauded, we have robbed by our sins of omission, by our failures of involvement in the past year.

The Jewish tradition and historical experience place a heavy burden upon us to act in this grossly unperfected world. May our efforts at introspection, penitence, and justice?\doing and seeking during the High Holy Days, give us the strength to lift up that burden and bear it proudly as a banner in the New Year ahead.

ay they be years of goodness and blessing.

Shanah tovah U’mvorechet!