|
. |
Excerpt from Rosh Hashanah Yom Kippur Survival Kit
Questions or comments? E-mail the author, Shimon Apisdorf, at ShimonA@mail.idt.net.
INTRODUCTION
So Much to Do, So Little Time
A few years ago a Canadian radio station aired a
documentary series that looked at early twentieth
century inventions touted as products that would
"change your life." There is no doubt that the last
one hundred years have been replete with products and
inventions that have indeed altered the way we live.
It's hard to imagine what life would be like without
disposable plastic wraps, containers and bottles—can
you believe that milk once came in a glass bottle?
From telephones to fax machines and then to e-mail—who
knows what's next? Maybe "Beam me up, Scotty" is just
around the corner.
There is one part of that documentary that still stays
with me: It's the piece about early advertisements for
the first sewing machines. It seems that the
assumption underlying the content and tone of those
ads was, what will women do with all the free time
they will now have on their hands? It was clear that
the sewing machine would usher in an era of leisure
totally unprecedented in the history of mankind.
The irony, of course, is that with the plethora of
devices and services designed to save us time and
increase our efficiency, we seem to have less time and
be more harried than ever before. It's a catch-22, of
sorts. The more time we have, the more we can do, and
the more we can do, the more time we need. Hence, we
try to fill every hour saved by our PC with two hours
of other work or fun (mostly work), thus pushing us to
discover ways to create another additional hour of
time to accommodate the increased load. This deadly
cycle soon spawns a new generation of time-saving
inventions, which are again followed by more
activities to fill the new empty spaces. The result is
that what once took a week now takes a day and what
once took a month or more, is now only a week's work.
Are you still puzzled at the fact that we are a
society running on empty? We are forever burning
ourselves out trying to manage our time and compress
many years worth of activities into just one
twelve-month slot. Eventually, something has to give.
Judaism: Caught in the Squeeze
There exists today an intense competition over who and
what will fill the ever-shrinking discretionary time
in our schedules. Where once Judaism was printed in
strong, bold letters across our calendars, today it is
lucky to get "penciled in" for even a few days in the
entire year.
If Judaism were a corporation, I would assert that it
has done a miserable job of marketing itself to the
sophisticated, discerning consumer of the last half of
the twentieth century. It is my contention, however,
that the issue is one of marketing and packaging, not
one of product quality. This doesn't mean that Judaism
should suddenly take to the airwaves with a slick
Madison Avenue ad campaign (although it's a thought),
but rather that we should look at the medium through
which the message of Judaism has been communicated
these last several decades and see if we can't
understand the problems and offer a solution.
Just Do It and Don't Ask Questions
The dominant medium for communicating Judaism to this
generation has been the synagogue or community Hebrew
schools. Whatever Jewish education most Jews possess
today came from those after-school or Sunday morning
classes that we all swore we would never subject our
children to. Another medium was our parents or
grandparents. While no one can dispute that their
hearts were deeply rooted in the right place, the fact
remains that even the deepest of sentiments in no way
readied them for the task of articulating Jewish
values in a relevant and cogent manner. More often
than not, their fallback position was, "We do it
because we're Jewish and that's just the way it is."
And for better or worse, such an argument no longer
carries the weight it once did.
We find ourselves in a bewildering world. We want to
make sense of what we see around us and to ask: What
is the nature of the universe? Where is our place in
it and where did it and we come from? Why is it the
way it is? Up to now, most scientists have been too
occupied with the development of new theories that
describe what the universe is to ask the question why.
-Stephen W. Hawking, A Brief History Of Time
The same, I believe, can be said about Judaism today.
As educated adults who happen to be Jewish, we tend to
look at our religious heritage and find it to be
rather bewildering. We would like to make sense of it,
to find for ourselves a place within it, but we just
aren't sure what to make of the whole thing.
To a degree, the quandary of Jewish identity also
stems from a prominent focus on the what and how of
Jewish life at the expense of the why. A great problem
is that Jewish education has stressed the mechanics of
Judaism (the what and the how) and has neglected the
reasons, meaning and spiritual ideas behind Jewish
practice (the why). In a world where people carefully
consider which activities will fill their time, you
had better give them a darn good reason for choosing
High Holiday services over the World Series, or quite
frankly, you don't stand a chance! Of course, there is
always good old-fashioned Jewish guilt. But it would
be tragic if the Jewish people; the people who gave
the world monotheism and the universal dream of,
Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, were
left with nothing to appeal to other than the specter
of callously bruising the tender feelings of an aging
parent or grandparent. Surely there is something that
can sustain us other than guilt.
The Why of Being Jewish
The Rosh Hashanah Yom Kippur Survival Kit is just the
tip of an iceberg. Its purpose is to demonstrate that
Judaism has nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to
the superior quality of its intellectual and spiritual
content. The Survival Kit assumes that if people were
to possess a mature understanding of what Judaism has
to say to our lives today, then it would easily hold
its own in the fiercely competitive environment in
which we live.
As I alluded to earlier, every aspect of Jewish life
consists of three primary components. These are what,
how and why. Let's take Passover as an example. What
do you do on Passover? You make a seder. How do you
make a seder? You get a box or two of matzo, some
wine, a few Maxwell House haggadahs; you shlepp your
family to the table; and presto, a seder! Then comes
the issue of why. Why do we do all these things at
seder? Why four cups of wine and not five? Why do we
recline and so on?
Isn't it obvious that if we never meaningfully address
the question of why, then eventually our Judaism will
become a hollow sentimental ritual at best, a dreary
burden at worst? In Jewish law it is considered
torture to have someone perform a purposeless task. To
carry out a mindless function with no comprehension of
the purpose it fulfills is fine if you are dealing
with automatons. For Jews, as for all people, it is
ultimately debasing and inspires either total lethargy
or violent revolution. The Jewish community today is
confronted with both of these responses on a massive
scale.
The Rosh Hashanah Yom Kippur Survival Kit is a partial
attempt to address the issue of why, within the
context of the High Holiday services. According to the
most recent statistics, the majority of Jews today no
longer have any synagogue affiliation whatsoever. In
fact, so many young Jewish parents are disillusioned
with Judaism that over half-a-million Jewish children
are being raised with either no religion or with a
religion other than Judaism. I would be surprised if
more than 40 percent of Jews in America attend Rosh
Hashanah and Yom Kippur services anymore. I would be
even more surprised if more than 20 percent of those
who do attend don't start looking for the exit shortly
after their arrival. How can a day in synagogue
possibly be meaningful or inspiring if you don't
understand the meaning behind the prayers you are
reciting or the concepts upon which the holiday is
based?
This book has been written for three types of people.
Firstly, it is for people who have given-up on
formalized Judaism and who are not planning to attend
synagogue this year. If this is you, then I want to
make the following promise: This book will give you a
radically different understanding of Rosh Hashanah,
Yom Kippur and perhaps your entire Jewish identity.
Read this book—I dare you—and you will find that there
just might be a side to Judaism, and even to
synagogue, that you can learn to enjoy and look
forward to.
Secondly, if you are planning to attend services but
are dreading the experience, then again, this book has
been written for you. What's more, I would suggest you
read it twice. Once during the weeks before Rosh
Hashanah and again during the services themselves.
Lastly, if you are among those who already have some
sense of the meaning of these holidays, then I think
that you—perhaps more than anyone else—will find the
Survival Kit to be a worthwhile intellectual and
spiritual supplement to your experience in synagogue
this year.
Wishing you a Shana Tova, a sweet new year.
Shimon Apisdorf
ShimonA@mail.idt.net
PROLOGUE: WHAT'S A HOLIDAY?
Two Views of Time
Classically, there are two models for viewing time:
one linear and one cyclical. The linear view imagines
time to be an infinitely long line with three
component parts—past, present, and future. Today we
stand in the present and if we but peer over our
shoulder we will behold a long line of time stretching
back deeper and deeper into the murky realm of the
past. The future is simply the continuation of this
same line waiting to progress endlessly ahead of us.
The cyclical notion of time conjures up a different
image. In this model we keep going around and around
in circles forever wearing a deeper rut in the same
track. With specific regard to Jewish holidays, our
concept of time more resembles the cyclical
view—though not in its strictest sense—than the
linear.
Holidays as Seasons
If you live in a climate that exhibits few
significant seasonal changes, then you are missing out
on one of life's most delightful experiences. There is
nothing more enchanting than the buds of springtime
working their magic to restore the trees to life, the
first morning when you open your window and hear birds
singing, the variegated leaves of autumn, or a silent
snowfall.
In a society that moves from home to car to office
and back again—each with its own background music—we
barely feel the impact of the shifts in seasons. The
pace is too fast. The music too loud. The loss, well,
incalculable.
If, however, you make the effort to take an
occasional walk and feel the moods of the seasons
then, your life is so much the richer. But beyond the
sheer beauty you also know that each season has a
distinct feel. A resonance that your psyche responds
to. There is something special in the air in
springtime. And yes, in the fall it's there too—all
together different, but no less enchanting.
So it is with the holidays. More than once the annual
cycle of the Jewish year has been dubbed "seasons of
the soul." Each spring we pack away our layers of
sweaters and dust the winter's dormancy off our
bicycle seats. We're free again. Just like we were
last spring, only not quite.
Each year Passover comes. We pack away the bread
products and dust off those grape juice–stained
haggadahs. In Hebrew, Passover is labeled Z'man
Heruteynu—the time of our freedom. We're free again.
Just like we were last Passover, only not quite.
Seasons as Opportunities
Every holiday has its own personality, its own feel.
There is a singular opportunity for personal growth
that exists within the observance of each holiday that
is present at no other time during the year.
Passover is called the time of our freedom because at
that time we can comprehend and actualize personal
freedom in a way that cannot be achieved at any other
time during the year. It's in the air, ripe for the
picking. The same is true of the festival of Succos,
which bears the title—the time of our joy. If you want
to understand what joy is and successfully deal with
the inner conflicts that inhibit its expression, then
you've got to live in a succah for a week. On Succos,
the door to the candy store has been left wide open.
Whoever wants to can come in and help themselves. Joy
is an idea, a state of mind and a challenge. Joy is a
tool for living, and on Succos it's there to be better
understood and more fully integrated into the fabric
of your being.
Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur
If you've been to Paris but you missed the Louvre,
then you haven't been to Paris. If you participate in
a Jewish holiday and you're not different as a result,
if you haven't grown, then you have missed the whole
point of the holiday.
Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, like all Jewish
holidays, are enormous opportunities for personal
growth. There is almost no limit to what you can
achieve on these days.
It is no wonder that the month of Elul, the month
before Rosh Hashanah, is viewed as a month of
preparation for the days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom
Kippur. The quality of any trip will in large part be
a reflection of the preparation put in ahead of time.
So it is with the High Holidays, these days of awe—of
awesome opportunity for insight and growth.
This is the purpose of the Rosh Hashanah Yom Kippur
Survival Kit. It has been written to give you an
appreciation of what can be accomplished on these
days. Admittedly it only begins to scratch the
surface. But you must know—even this surface is so
fertile, so rich in possibilities for growing, for
becoming a more fully developed human being and
Jew—that years can be spent harvesting the bounty of
this spiritual topsoil. Beneath it lie riches beyond
our wildest dreams.
Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are a personal odyssey.
The machzor—the High Holiday prayer book—serves as the
primary guide for this odyssey, and though it is
extensively detailed, it outlines only the most
important landmarks. Each of these landmarks resides
within each and every one of us. They come in the form
of questions that ask us what we want to achieve with
our lives, as statements of values that give us cause
to stop and reflect or as bits of spiritual
inspiration. They ask us to rethink our inner lives
and the implications of the choices we have made. Each
prayer, each internal landmark, calls us away from the
stagnation that the routine of life breeds and urges
us to reassert our determination that life will always
be an exciting quest for understanding and personal
development.
There is something enthralling about watching
children traverse the path of discovery and growth.
However, as the years pass and the less children seem
to grow and develop, the less attention we adults pay
them. But the thrill of growth doesn't end when we
reach voting age. For mature, sensitive, thinking
adults, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur contain the tools
that will help ensure that our lives continue to
blossom and develop long after our shoe sizes reach
their outer limits.
A Word about Judaism
Judaism makes demands. It is anything but a religion
of comfort. The Shulchan Aruch (the code for Jewish
living) opens with the statement that, in the morning
a person should rise with the vitality of a lion.
Let's be honest. When was the last time you felt like
a lion in the morning—ready to attack the new day with
every ounce of vitality you possessed?
How precious they are, so rarified, those moments
when we feel that there is nothing we would rather do
than confront life and its challenges head-on. More
likely, if you're like most of us, your first impulse
upon awakening in the morning is to hit that beloved
snooze button and roll over for another twenty minutes
of dream-filled bliss.
Together, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are the
dawning moments of a new year. They are 365 mornings
all rolled into three days of directed energy. If you
feel like rolling over and going back to sleep (after
all, you've been through these holidays before), I beg
of you, don't. These three days, like Judaism and
Jewish life itself, call us to transcend our first
inclinations and to strive for a greatness we so long
to achieve but are so hesitant to pursue. Rosh
Hashanah and Yom Kippur, like life, will take a great
deal of effort, perhaps even some pain.
But isn't that what you will teach your children?
That the pursuit of comfort is the antithesis of the
search for excellence? That if you want to achieve
anything of enduring value in life, it will take great
determination and effort?
Do your ears hear what your lips speak? The truth
about life is so very plain. The challenges—and the
rewards—so incredibly enormous. If only we could get
out of bed.
Here then is the Rosh Hashanah Yom Kippur Survival
Kit. Its aim is far more than its title—survival. It
is my hope that with the help of this book you will
not only survive your experience in synagogue this
year but also emerge from the holidays with a new
appreciation for the thrilling challenge called life.
|
. |
|
|
|