Yom Kippur Morning 5770 – Temple Sinai – If you had another chance….
As we get to know each other over the coming weeks and months you will find out that I am a lover of cinema. There is nothing quite like sinking into a comfortable seat (I prefer 6 rows back in the middle) with a bucket of popcorn in my lap. I love the smell of the cinema and the sense of anticipation that comes with sitting in front of a long-awaited movie as the curtains either side of the screen part. I am such a cinema romantic, that even while sitting in a modern multiplex, I will imagine that the projection room contains, not state-of-the-art electronic equipment, but rather dilapidated projectors from the middle of the last century, the film reels of which are fed in by an elderly Italian man with a bushy moustache.
My tastes are varied. I will happily watch a shoot-‘em-up action story, a gory horror film, a romantic comedy, if the mood takes me, comedies, dramas, independent films are all grist for my cinematic mill. The common denominator must be quality. I hate to sit through a movie and think, “that’s two hours of my life I’m never getting back”. And my preferred cinema companion? Obviously, my wonderful wife Sarah. Now I’ll let you into a secret. The problem comes when Sarah and I want to see different films. In this scenario, Sarah usually opts for the period, costume drama, a British-made tale of good manners and understated intrigue. Down the hall, in a totally separate screening room, I will be whooping in high-spirited joy as a futuristic robot attacks a gritty urban landscape. I know, it sounds a bit strange, going to the same movie theatre but to different movies. But trust me, it works and it’s the secret to a happy marriage.
Recently though, we actually went to the same movie, the Adam Sandler-led “Funny People”. For those of you who are not familiar with his work Adam Sandler is best known for crude comedies and silly voices. Maybe some of you have seen the movie to which I refer and can explain it to the person in the seat next to you. In any case, the basic plot is as follows: a stand-up comedian gets told he has a terminal illness but a few months later the doctors inform him that he has been given the all-clear. The narrative follows Adam Sandler’s character around as he proceeds to waste this so-called second chance by acting appallingly, stealing another man’s wife and treating his only friend like dirt.
But how would we react in that situation? If we were told we had a limited time to live, who would we tell? What would we do? Would there be a list of experiences we would want to have? Adam Sandler’s character’s main reaction in the movie is to review past relationships. He realizes he is still in love with his ex-girlfriend and tries to get back with her. In the end, he realizes it was not to be and moves on.
All of which made me thank Adam Sandler for plugging so successfully into a Yom Kippur theme, that of having a second chance to work on our lives, to construct ourselves anew, to live again. However hopeless we have felt in the past year. However far short of our goals we have fallen, we can still rise from ashes of our problems, make a clean slate and rise again. In particular, we can still reconstruct ourselves and self-improve.
Let me give you an example. The high priest in the Temple in Jerusalem wore linen garments on Yom Kippur[1]. This might not seem significant in itself. In the morning his garments came from a place called Hinduyin which the Rabbis identify as India or Ethiopa. However, in the afternoon, his linen garments came from a place called Pelusin. The Provencal scholar, Meiri, explains that Pelusin was the place the Bible calls Ramses. Ramses was one of the cities where the Israelites worked as slaves for Pharaoh. So the High Priest, one of the most powerful men in a Jewish sovereign state, wore garments made in a city where Jews had previously been slaves. His very clothes were a symbol of having a second chance, of reconstructing ourselves.
Here was possibly the most important man in the whole of Jewish world, the symbol of our people having control over our affairs. That very man was wearing garments made in Ramses where Jews used to be slaves. He personified the idea that Jews were no longer slaves but, instead, controlled their own destiny. The idea that even though we have dark days in our lives there is always the possibility of starting anew.
There is a Hasidic story about the Rebbe and his disciple. His disciple asked, “Why do we bother praying on Yom Kippur? Is it not impossible to rid ourselves of sin and imperfection?” The Rebbe told him to look out of the window to an infant playing in the street. “See that little boy?” he asked. “He walks a few steps and then falls down, walks and falls, walks and falls but eventually, he will stay on his feet”. Sarah and I have recently seen Elijah do exactly the same so we know the story rings true. And it’s the same with all of us. We cannot go through a whole year without making mistakes but we can reconstruct ourselves when we get to Yom Kippur, safe in the knowledge that human experience can be about making mistakes but then moving on from them. And that is the chance we have at Yom Kippur, that incredible chance. The chance to do teshuva, repentance, the chance forgive others who have hurt us, to forgive ourselves for our own mistakes, to start afresh.
And we see examples of that second chance everywhere we look. On the most fundamental level, we have all heard stories of near-death experiences. People who probably should have died under the surgeon’s knife or from a serious illness but came through it. Those who struggled with addiction and came through the other side.
In Judaism we have those who are labelled baalei teshuvah, literally, “masters of return”, those who left Judaism and who are determined to reinvolve themselves in the life of our people. They reengage in Jewish life with fervour and passion. Essentially they consider themselves as having a second chance, religiously speaking. They have reconstructed themselves compared to their previous existence.
The same with sports stars or actors. Many is the time an ageing sportsman or woman recovered from injury or returned from semi-retirement to lead their team to victory. Just when all hope seemed lost, they found it in themselves to rise again, to reenergize their body, to find the mental strength. I’m not sure it’s exactly the same with rock stars. After all, there’s only so many times the Stones can come out of retirement. Comebacks in popular music might be a little more suspect or maybe I’m being unfair. We see it in the stories of celebrities who go into rehab and looking for a chance of a new life. The acting world is certainly full of people reinventing themselves and looking for that second chance. If any of you are familiar with the work of the film director, Quentin Tarantino, he specialises in giving work to actors who seem to have faded from sight. In Tarantino’s films they come alive again, experiencing a new lease of life.
Some of my favourite stories from the Talmud are stories of second chances or new leases of life. In particular stories of Rabbis reconstructing themselves. There are two which I have in mind in particular.
The first is the story of Rabbi Yochanan and the Rabbi known as Resh Lakish, Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish[2]. The thing you should know about Yochanan is that he was known as being the most good-looking Rabbi in the Talmud. The thing you should know about Resh Lakish is that he was known, in his earlier life as a bandit, a highway robber. At this point Lakish is still a robber. He is by the river Jordan when he espies Rabbi Yochanan from afar. Yochanan is a way off and so good looking that Resh Lakish thinks he is a woman. He leaps into the Jordan to seduce this woman only to realize his mistake. Subsequently Yochanan taught this bandit all he knew and he became one of our most famous Rabbis. He even married Yochanan’s daughter, such was his transformation from rogueish bandit to nice Jewish boy. You’re probably wondering now what I did before I became a Rabbis but I think I’ll just keep it a secret.
The other story I’m thinking of is that of possibly our most famous Rabbis, Akiva[3]. What was Akiva before he was a Rabbi? A humble shepherd. In fact, so humble that his prospective father-in-law, totally unimpressed by his daughter Rachel’s fiancé, forbade the marriage. They lived happily ever after because Akiva went away to study and returned as a great scholar with thousands of disciples. From shepherd to Rabbi. You may not be surprised to hear that his father-in-law finally relented and saw the value in his new son.
Both of these are examples from our tradition of a second chance in life, of a reconstruction of the self, exactly the process we undergo as we move through Yom Kippur and beyond. So how do we go about reconstructing ourselves? Well I already mentioned the Mussar[4] movement in Judaism, the group who urged every Jew to examine all of their actions in great detail and to find the elements of improvement. The goal of mussar practice is to release the light of holiness that lives within the soul and to bring about change right at the root of our nature. If yesterday, we were looking at what our true self is, today, we imagine how to change that true self for the better. Now those who study mussar enagage in very practical but intense techniques to bring about reconstruction of the self, in particular meditation and introspection.
But we probably have to go about this more simply. Think back to the movie to which I referred at the beginning. The main character thought he was going to die but had a reprieve. If we had another chance, what would we do with it?
And we have that chance because of Yom Kippur. We now understand the opportunity which we have. A new chance at life. To reconstruct ourselves, to self-improve, to progress. We learn this lesson from the garments of the High Priest, that hope is never lost. We learn it from small children who move on in this world through trial and error, not through constant perfection. We understand it from our great Rabbis, many of whom started out in a different universe to where they ended up. Let us grasp the chance with both hands, and rejoice in this new lease of life. Amen.
1
[1] Babylonian Talmud Yoma 34b
[2] Babylonian Talmud Baba Mezia 84a
[3] Babylonian Talmud Ketubot 62b-63a
[4] E.g. the Mesiallat Yesharim by Moshe Chaim Luzzatto