Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Erev Yom Kippur sermon 5775

Silly Goats and Real Community
Yom Kippur 5775
Temple Beth Jacob
Rabbi Larry Freedman


In another year or two, there will be a new machzor called Mishkan Hanefesh.  The title means “dwelling place of the soul” and it will be edited in a similar style to our regular Mishkan Tefilla siddur, the “dwelling place of prayer.”  We’re using an advance unproofed copy for our afternoon service this year again.  If you’re in the Orthodox world, the machzor doesn’t change all that much but over in the Reform Movement, with our use of English translation and poetic interpretation, the book can become routine and dated.  Our current machzor was published in 1978 so it really is due for a modernization.
Some of you may remember the machzor that came out before the one we are using.  That was the small UPB or Union Prayer Book.  That machzor had a relative sprinkling of Hebrew and the English was filled with “thee” and “thou” and other language we might find arcane.  It also had a section for a personal vidui, the personal confession.  It had, among others, a section for parents and a section for spouses and a section for children.  My mother, about whom I usually tell inspiring and instructive stories, would pull out the full blown guilt at this moment.  She would take her finger and start jabbing the page that had the vidui for children.  “Read this.  You have to read this.”
Grrrrr.  Even as a child, the majesty of Yom Kippur can sink in and between the grand melodies and the formality and the sitting there, you got a sense of something powerful going on.  You began to think about things larger than yourself, the very start of spirituality.  And then your mother starts jabbing your machzor hissing “read this”.  I am aware the attempt was to focus my attention on something written for my age bracket but it kind of came down like, “read this and repent you rotten child.”  That was not the way to go.
Yom Kippur is extremely personal.  It really is all about you, you, you.  But it is experienced communally.  It takes place best among us, us, us.  The best example of this in our liturgy is the al chet where we as a group acknowledge our sins as a group.  No one could face the crushing truth of reciting in front of a group his or her sins.  It’s easier if we all declare all our sins together while inwardly acknowledging which ones among the group’s list actually apply to you specifically.  Only you need to know and only you need to do something about that.  It’s nobody’s business.  And yet the process of teshuva seems to work better if we make it everyone’s business to share the experience.  You are not alone.  You with your sins are not alone.  We all have sins.  We all have things that are keeping us from being our best.  We all have issues we are struggling with.  Your sin may be unique but that you sin is not.  You are in good company.
And this brings me to the eScapegoat.  For those of you who don’t know because you ignored two postcards, haven’t visited our FaceBook site or stuffed cotton in your ears as I promote it endlessly, let me explain what it is.  EScapegoat is a website telling the story of the Biblical scapegoat.  This is a real thing.  As part of the ancient Yom Kippur ritual, when the Temple stood, two goats were selected.  One of them was sacrificed as a burnt offering. The other one received all the sins of the community.  The Cohen Gadol would lay his hands upon the goat to transfer the sins and then the goat would be taken off to the desert and sent off or, in some understandings, pushed off a cliff.  It’s rough, I know.  But the idea is that the goat would carry away your sins and you did not want those sins returning.
The eScapegoat website tells this story in less graphic detail.  Safe for kids.  After telling the story, it asks you to upload, anonymously, your sins.  After you do that, you can see what others have posted.  Again, it’s all anonymous.
Why did I sign us up?  First of all, it has goats, and in my family, we have a thing about goats.  Number two: the graphics are adorable.  How can you turn away from this face?
Number three: in its cartoonish way, the eScapegoat speaks to a very profound issue.  Can we articulate those things that are holding us back?   It’s a spiritual exercise.  Can we, using primary color graphics, quiet our minds enough to be honest with ourselves and allow dark thoughts to surface?  Because teshuva can’t happen until we’re honest with ourselves.   And judging by the list, we have been very honest. 
All of the responses to our own unique Temple Beth Jacob eScapegoat are important to the people who wrote them.  Some seem light, some seem heavy but all are issues keeping the writer from being the best person he or she can be.  At a time when we are called upon to declare that this year will be better, we have to face those things that have kept us from that goal last year.  As of my writing this we had 67 responses from members of our community.  The answers are anonymous but can be viewed by anyone on the website.  Listen and take seriously the issues your friends are facing:
I spend time on twitter at work. 
Four people regretted laziness.
Not being attentive enough to family was a recurrent theme:  “I'm sorry I didn't spend more time with my children.” “For my daughter not being able to know all her cousins” and “I often hurt the feelings of the people I care about and love the most” or “I have lied to family about my availability to attend certain functions.“ “Find the strength to listen with understanding to my children.”
Marriages came up often:  “I have felt resentment towards my husband who is a good man and doesn't deserve to be thought of badly.” “I did not support my husband during a hard time; I acted like a spoiled brat instead.”
Interpersonal relationships:  When a co-worker asked me to record his ice bucket challenge, I deliberately did not hit record.
There were a number of comments under this general heading of self-improvement like “I'm sorry I wasn't more humble. Too often I'm just a kind of snooty little smarty pants.” “I'm sorry that I am not as tolerant as I would like to be” and “I would like to be more forgiving...of others as well as myself” and “I complain too much about what is wrong and forget to say thank you for what is right.” “I'm sorry I can't do more for my Temple.  Perhaps next year will be better.
Issues with friends came up frequently: “I'm sorry for the miss understanding with a friend whose feelings were hurt. We have now corrected our errors.” “I lied to my friend for whom truth is everything.”
Our young people added in sins too: “I broke up with someone over text message.”  “I broke up with a girl because she was irritating me off and still had braces.”  “I've slacked and cheated in school to maintain my grades.” “I lied to my parents about going to the mall. I told them I brought x dollars, but really I brought xx dollars.” “I'm sorry for not listening to my mom when I know I should.”
And among others? 
I know I need to change my eating habits but I choose not to.
I made my daughter feel she is unworthy.  Mostly, I have lost my sense of spirituality and G-d and I want it back.
I made people feel guilty.
I got drunk in front of my college age daughter, bad example for her.
I'm sorry I sometimes go for the laugh rather than thinking before I speak.
I have guilt about not being able to let go of something I know I will NEVER be able to have again.
I can't give up an obsession that's harming me and making someone I love unhappy.
I am not living up to my dreams.
I don't have the courage to live my life and so I look for means of escape.
I am sometimes manipulative.

If we want to build community, and we do, we have to let our friends here at Temple Beth Jacob know that we care for them.  Because the responses are anonymous, we can’t reach out but know this.  To those of you in this room who posted, we hear you.  We feel for you. We are ready to help you in your struggles.  You are not alone.  You are part of a community where many, many people have their own struggles.  We all face struggles.  We all have burdens.  We all have regrets.  Together we can help each other.
This is why I love this goat.  The interface is juvenile but the meaning is extremely serious.  
The other great example of this interplay of communal and personal is the very fact that Yom Kippur draws a crowd.  The themes of the day, the introspection, seem to be most effective when we are together.  You could pick up a used machzor on Amazon and thumb through it at home but that’s no fun and I would think boring.  If we’re going to have a serious day of reflection, it’s more meaningful to do so all together.
We are all in this experience together.  We are all  partners in this day.  
I’ve been thinking of that word a lot in terms of how we organize our synagogue.  For decades the membership model for synagogues has been the only model.  It’s filled with words like dues and statements and member and non-member.  It has a fee-for-service connotation, it has an exclusivity connotation but perhaps worst of all is that it has a sense of you vs. us.  There is this institution, Temple Beth Jacob, and there is some group that runs it and you can join or not, you can be a member not.  But then what?  So you’re a member.  That entitles you to various services that you can demand from the powers that be.  You vs. them.
It doesn’t function quite so harshly on a day to day basis but that is how it can feel to a lot of people
What if we changed our language?  What if we looked at this as more of a partnership?  What if, instead of a member, you were a partner of Temple Beth Jacob?  What would that mean to you?  What would that look like?  What if we remove an us and them context and make it just us?  Right now, the synagogue is trying to serve its members.  What would it mean if the partners, all the partners, contributed ideas and energy towards the programming we have, the opportunities we can provide?
The membership model for synagogues had its day but now, we need something new.  We need something where all of us feel a responsibility towards the energy of the community and where all of us feel our contributions of time and energy and ideas whether large or small is received graciously.
One synagogue, Beth Elohim in Wellesley, MA has a policy where they don’t say no.  If you have an idea, they synagogue will work to give you a space and dates to make it happen.  They will support the program as much as they can financially.  But, you, the person with the idea, have to make it happen.  You the member don’t tell the synagogue what you want.  You the partner propose an idea that is almost always approved and then you make it happen with staff and budgetary support.  That’s a partnership.
The notion of partnership with a synagogue is the idea that you don’t buy a product; you support your community.  As a partner, you have the right and duty to speak up so that the partnership meets your needs.  You become vested in the health of the community and you become empowered to think creatively so that the synagogue provides what you want at the stage of life you are in. 

We’re all in this together.  Whether it’s baring our souls via the eScapegoat or imagining a new relationship with this congregation, we’re all in it together and that is moving and uplifting and very inspiring.  On a serious day, I see a very happy future.

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