Beth Shalom
Oceanside Jewish Center

Teshuvah
Looking Inward and Outward
Rosh Hashanah 5763
September 7, 2002
by Rabbi Mark B. Greenspan

Looking inward and looking outward: that's what we do on Rosh Hashanah. We stop long enough to look at the world and the year that has passed. But we also take the time to look at ourselves. If we can understand who we are and what's expected of us, then we can begin to change. Every change, begins within; it starts deep within our heart. That's the true meaning of Teshuvah. And thats what we're here for today....

Looking back, we reflect on the world at large and all that has transpired over the last year. 5762 began as the world came crashing down around us along with the World Trade Towers and it's coming to an end with continued violence in the Middle East. Only a few years ago we dared to think that Israel was on the brink of peace and that anti-Semitism was finally dead. Today we witness senseless bloodshed in Israel and we're dismayed to see the renewed hatred of Jews in Europe. It's hard to look back in a cheerful or optimistic fashion. How can we say that things are better now than they were a year ago?

Has anything really changed in the past year? I began preparing for the High Holy Days by rereading the sermon I delivered last Rosh Hashanah. It was entitled, In the Face of Evil. Wrestling with the incomprehensible events that had just taken place, I tried to address our collective sorrow and anger. In retrospect, my words sounded strident and angry. They echoed the rage that we were feeling at the time. Yet, as I reread this sermon a few weeks ago, I found myself asking if sermons really make a difference. Do they change anyone -- Can they change me?

I thought of a prophet who came to a town preaching repentence and return. For years he stood in the town square haranguing his fellow citizens. "Old man," a little boy finally asked, "Why do you bother preaching to these people? No one ever listens to you!" The prophet responded, "When I first came here, I hoped to change the world. Now I preach with the hope that I will simply change myself..."

"What's happening to the world," we wonder, "Has society gone mad?" The institutions upon which we once depended have failed us -- we feel powerless and alone. Less than a decade ago, America's CEO's were our cultural heroes. But greed has taken a toll on our society. Today we feel betrayed as we witness the large amounts of money these financial leaders have taken as part of their golden parachute while 'John Q' struggles with the knowledge that he may not be able to retire. Even our religious leaders have failed us -- the scandals affecting the Catholic Church have had a devastating effect on all organized religions. We wonder who we can trust and to whom we can turn. We don't know who to blame first.

I could stand here and tell you about the outside world this morning , but I'm not convinced that this would change anything. I could speak to you about the war on terrorism and Yassir Arafat, greedy CEO's and those who take advantage of the weak, but my words would not make a difference. After all, there are no CEOs, Catholic priests, members of Al Qeida or the PLO present. There's no one here but you and me. Before we can change the outside world we must begin by looking at our inner world -- the world in which we live, and in which we struggle each day. That must be our first concern.

In his great code, Moses Maimonides presents a philosophy of Teshuvah, of repentence. He suggests that change begins within each of us. There are three types of people in the world, writes Maimonides -- those who have more sins than good deeds (the wicked), those who have more good deeds than sins (the righteous), and the rest of us -- those whose good and evil deeds are equally balanced - the Benoni, the average person. The vast majority of us fit into this category. We stand on the cusp between salvation and destruction.

Commenting on the Benoni, Maimonides writes that for such a person, each action has the potential of tipping the scales one way or another, not just for himself but for the entire world. Standing before the throne of judgment between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we're reminded that each act makes a difference. What we choose to do here and now, at this very moment, can change us and can change the world.

Instead of acknowledging our role in the world, however, we play the 'blame game.' It's easier to blame others than acknowledge our responsibility. We look outward rather than delve inside ourselves. The politician appears before the judge. He's about to be sentenced for corruption and he says "Your honor -- it's not my fault! If the people had never elected me, I wouldn't be in so much trouble!"

Even our apologies are often a 'cop out.' Have you ever said, "If anyone was offended by my actions, I'm truly sorry..." What does that mean? Instead of acknowledging our wrongs and taking ownership for them, too often we say that we are only sorry if someone was offended. But right and wrong should not be a matter of public opinion. If something is wrong and we know it, we must be willing to acknowledge our failure and make amends for our wrong.

5762 has left us feeling powerless. It's easier to blame others than to take responsibility for ourselves. And its simpler to bemoan the problems of the world than it is to be honest and self-critical. When a person is under attack, self-reflection is a luxury. Too often we excuse our failures by arguing that we're living in difficult times, or that there were extenuating circumstances. During the height of the Cold War it was easier to go on a witch hunt for communists than it was to look at our nation's short comings. In a sense the same thing is happening today. It's easier to condemn terrorists than it is to deal with assimilation, apathy and disunity. Jews have survived hatred and violence in the past. But I'm not certain whether we can so easily overcome the real issues effecting us as a people and a community unless we're willing to take responsibility for ourselves.

Professor Gil Troy writes that Jews are much more comfortable defending themselves against hate than they are in addressing the inner challenges in Jewish life. He writes "Even as we rally and lobby, fund raise and friend-raise ...we must not allow these crises to define our lives and our Judaism. Judaism is more than saying gevalt every time you watch the news..."

How many of us are "Gevalt Jews?" We feel most Jewish when we're under attack, when we think our honor has been impugned. But there's so much more to being Jewish than that, and if we're honest with ourselves we would acknowledge that Judaism challenges us to be much more. It's easy to blame our heritage or, worse, to ignore our way of life when it doesn't live up to our expectations instead of asking ourselves whether we have lived up to the highest spiritual, moral, and intellectual expectations of Judaism.

We confuse who's judging whom. Is Judaism being judged or is our heritage judging us? A group of tourists found themselves walking through the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Rather than taking the time to appreciate the art, they went from painting to painting passing judgment: one was "good," another "bad," still others were "too dark." Now the guards at the Metropolitan feel a special kinship for the art they faithfully watch. So one guard approached the tourists and said: "You have it backwards. You're not here to judge these great paintings. They're here to judge you! They have been around for hundreds of years and they'll continue to be here long after you're gone. How you respond to them is a measure of your character!"

It's been said that the Shofar can teach us an important lesson in life. One end if the Shofar is very wide while the other end is narrow. If you blow in the wide end, what happens? Absolutely nothing. If you blow in the narrow end a sound comes out of the ram's horn. Similarly, we only can change the world by dealing with the details of life. When we look at our day to day interactions, acknowledge our unique experience and consider who we are, we can change ourselves and thereby change the world. Global issues are important, but they're often beyond our control. What matters is what I do and how I live now!

It's for that very reason that I take exception with Rick Blaine, the wonderful character played by Humphrey Bogart in the movie, Casablanca. At the end of the movie, Rick, the constant cynic, tells the love of his life, Ilsa, that she must go off with Victor, the leader of the underground. Standing on the airport runway he says, "I'm no good at being noble but it don't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world." With all do respect for Mr. Blaine -- each person does matter. And while self-sacrifice may seem noble and even romantic, what counts most is what we make of our individual lives. Each life is infinite in its potential!

My friends, I stand before you with a challenge. We can't stop the Al Keida network or solve the problems of the Middle East. But we can make a difference, by the way we live, how we invest meaning in our lives and the way we join together in fashioning a community. Three people may not make a difference in the greater scheme of things but together they form a "Mizuman," a religious quorum. In Pirke Avot we learn that when three people study Torah together or worship together or show kindness to others, "the divine presence dwells in their midst." If we want to respond to the madness of the world the best thing that we can do is to live our lives fully, passionately, and authentically.

What can we do? We can take the time to live and practice Judaism through the performance of Mitzvot. It's that simple! We can expand our intellect through the study of our tradition. We can increase the depth of our soul by lighting Shabbat candles. We can weave body and soul together by making our diet an object of holiness through Kashrut and Brachot. We can deepen our compassion by performing acts of loving kindness for the people around us.

Will these acts change the world? In the short run maybe not. But they can change us. They can bring us closer to one another and to God. They can help us to create a Kehillah Kedosha, a sacred community. By nurturing a soul and building a community we will also create a better world.

I'd like to call your attention to Rabbi Jerome Epstein's pamphlet, "The Conservative Compact for Jewish Commitment." Rabbi Epstein offers several suggestions for increasing our involvement in Jewish life. This morning I'd like us to adopt just one project to which we as a congregation can commit ourselves in an effort to grow Jewishly. What could be easier than reading a book? I think it would be truly awesome if every member of OJC agreed to read and discuss one Jewish book this year. Not just one book, but the same book. We are going to make this really easy for you - every family will receive a copy of the book in the mail. Imagine the network of discussion and dialogue we could create if we were all involved in such an effort to study.

Apporpriately, the book we've chosen for this project is called "Why Be Jewish?" by Rabbi David Wolpe. It's a brief statement of what Judaism can bring to our lives and to the world. Over the course of the year, I'd like to see us make this volume the subject of discussions and sermons, classes and home book reviews. Families will read it together and discuss it at the Shabbat table, and our teens might discuss it in Hebrew High School. Together we will become one mind and one heart as we grow together Jewishly.

I can't think of a more powerful response to the events of the past year than a renewed spiritual and intellectual commitment to our way of life. We must begin inward and move outward. That is the natural process of growth and spirituality. If we can begin by transforming our own lives, I believe we can change the world. Sorrow will give way to joy and despair to empowerment. Life will win over death. Together we can return to the values that matter. Won't you join me in this dream? Together we truly can change the world, soul by soul! Shanah Tova!