RH Day 2 Sermon: Secret to Happiness

Rabbi Philip Weintraub

Congregation Agudas Israel

Rosh Hashanah Day 2 2013

September 6, 2013

Every man has his daydreams

Every man has his goal

People like the way dreams have

Of sticking to the soul

Thunderclouds have their lightning

Nightingales have their song

And don't you see I want my life to be

Something more than long....

Rivers belong where they can ramble

Eagles belong where they can fly

I've got to be where my spirit can run free

Got to find my corner of the sky

Pippin is a musical with lyrics and music by Stephen Schwartz.  Bob Fosse directed it on Broadway, where it remained for 5 years, and it has just returned with a circus-style revival, although I have not had a chance to see it!   (Anyone want to babysit Hannah so Rebecca and I can go??)  While on some levels, it is rather absurd and not remotely historically accurate, it is a musical that questions grand ambition and celebrates a simple life.  Pippin, the son of Charlemagne, dreams of ruling the Holy Roman Empire, bringing glory to himself and others, yet he discovers, one can be happier skipping the glory and focusing on family.

What does it mean to be happy?  What do we want out of life?  How do we define success?  How do we find our corner of the sky?

Three big questions.  A multitude of answers.  History, philosophy, religion, psychology and art, all offer different answers, reading the questions in their own way.

Some say the path to happiness and success is great wealth.  Yet, studies of lottery winners find that many of them blow their money and end up poorer and more miserable than they were before!  Those who gain wealth through hard work, on the other hand, remember the sacrifices they made and seem to enjoy it much more.

Some say the path to happiness is success in business or politics.  For some people, this is very true.  They enjoy their success.  They are proud of their accomplishments.  For others though, no success is ever enough.  They cannot just be a city councilperson, they must be a state senator, a Governor and President.  No position will ever be enough.  (If you were here last year on Erev Rosh Hashanah, I spoke of the power of the word just, how we can see the miraculous by simply removing that word!)

Others say the path to happiness is wisdom and knowledge.  If I just get another degree, if I just take another class. . .  Yet for some perpetual students, they remain stuck in grad school seemingly forever, never quite living!

The simple answer to all of these things is Gd and Torah.   Yesterday and Wednesday night, I spoke about the Gd-shaped hole.  I raised the issue that no matter what we do, we may feel lacking, we may feel something is missing, if we don’t let Gd in.  Using our holy Torah, looking at the words of our rabbis and sages, the Mishnah, the Talmud, rabbinic and biblical commentaries of the last 2,000 years, we find many answers to those big questions.  Some of those answers touch us today, many, many years after they were initially written.

"Ben (the son of) Zoma said: Who is wise? He who learns from all people, as it is said: 'From all those who taught me I gained understanding' (Psalms 119:99). Who is strong? He who conquers his evil inclination, as it is said: 'Better is one slow to anger than a strong man, and one who rules over his spirit than a conqueror of a city' (Proverbs 16:32). Who is rich? He who is satisfied with his lot, as it is said: 'When you eat the toil of your hands you are fortunate and it is good for you' (Psalms 128:2). 'You are fortunate' -- in this world; 'and it is good for you' -- in the World to Come. Who is honored? He who honors others, as it is said: 'For those who honor Me will I honor, and those who scorn Me will be degraded' (I Samuel 2:30)."

בן זומא אומר, איזה הוא חכם--הלמד מכל אדם, שנאמר "מכל מלמדיי, השכלתי" (תהילים קיט,צט).   איזה הוא גיבור--הכובש את יצרו, שנאמר "טוב ארך אפיים, מגיבור" (משלי טז,לב). איזה הוא עשיר--השמח בחלקו, שנאמר "יגיע כפיך, כי תאכל; אשריך, וטוב לך" (תהילים קכח,ב):  "אשריך", בעולם הזה; "וטוב לך", לעולם הבא.   איזה הוא מכובד--המכבד את הברייות, שנאמר "כי מכבדיי אכבד ובוזיי ייקלו" (שמואל א ב,ל).

Ben Zoma’s ideas are pretty powerful.  They are a radical redefinition of success.  Rather than wisdom only being about books, it is about human connection.  Talmud Kiddushin 40b shares a debate about which is greater, studying Torah or going out and living it?  Rabbi Akiva’s answer is that studying Torah is most important, since it leads to action, that if we regularly speak about the needs of the stranger, the widow and the orphan, we will actually take care of them!  

Strength is not the winner in a contest of armies or bodies, but self-control.  Strength is recognizing our faults and fixing them.  Strength is spending this holy time, these days of Awe, in tshuvah, in reparation, in tikkunim, corrections, improvements of our selves.

Wealth is not money.  It is not the size of our IRA or bank account.  I’m not saying money isn’t important.  It is important.  Without it we cannot eat, live, sleep.  Yet, money cannot and should not be the focus of ALL of our yearning.  Money can be an idol, rather than a tool.  In our community, we see people using their money to improve the lives of others through education, improve the lives of all of us through building Kol Yisrael, improving the opportunities of our own community through the donations that sustain Agudas Israel.  (Without you and without your money, we simply cannot exist.)  What Ben Zoma is saying is that if we are happy with what we have, we will be far more content.  It is a profound statement.  Like the most powerful truths it is not complicated.  It is simple.  It tells it like it is. If all we want is more, we will never be happy.  I know I am guilty of this.  I love watches.  I have a dozen of them.  I wear a different watch depending on my mood or to compliment my outfit.   After I get a new watch, I wear it regularly for awhile, trying it out and then it goes into the regular rotation, like all the others.  Once the novelty wears off, I wonder what might come next.  Yet, I’m getting bored.  No watch will ever satisfy a deep need, all it can do is tell time!

For many, happiness is the respect that others give.  Happiness is being recognized for our success.  Yet, Ben Zoma says that honor and respect are not what other people give to us, but what we give to others.  When we treat others with respect, when we recognize the spark of Divinity within each person, we can find a whole new level of respect in our own lives.  Treating other people better turns US into better people.  This applies not just for our family and friends (although many people do not show their family and friends nearly enough respect), but also to those who we actively dislike or those who we have power over.  Our character is reflected not in how we treat those upon whom we are dependent, but upon how we treat those who are dependent on us!

I opened with a song about finding our place in the world, finding the people and the places where we fit in.  For me, Agudas Israel has become a place like that, a place where I find comfort and connection, a place where I find holiness and love, happiness.

Since the Talmud was completed around 1500 years ago, there has been no index.  It was not until 2011, that a NYC lawyer, Daniel Retter, published in index of the 2711 pages of Talmud (of which I am studying a page a day).  Looking in the index, looking at the pages of Talmud, I found dozens of discussions on happiness and joy.  The Talmud teaches that meat and wine make for a joyful meal (Pesachim 71a); that studying Torah brings joy (Shabbat 30b), that doing mitzvot is a reward in itself, that earning a good reputation brings joy (Yevamot 16a), and of course, that one who is Happy with his lot, the powerful words of Ben Zoma in Pirkei Avot.

Yet amidst all of this joy, our texts tell us that joy, itself is not the goal of life.  In the next world we will be asked if we took advantage of the beauty of this world, saw Gd’s holy landscapes, if we tasted the (kosher) delights, yet simple happiness is not the only goal.

We were put on this Earth to serve Gd and each other.  We were placed on this planet as partners in creation.  This world is imperfect.  It was imperfect in the Torah and it is imperfect now.  There is violence, hatred, poverty, loss, and disease.  Yet for each one of these, we can make a difference.  We can bring peace to the world through our relationships with others.  We can bring love to the world through how we treat our family, friends and those we dislike.  We can reduce poverty through tzedekah, through government programs, and through changed attitudes.  We can reduce the pain of loss through faith and love.  We change the course of illness through medicine, research, vaccines and even prayer.

We were not placed on Earth to live alone.  We were placed on Earth to live in community.  As the fastest growing faith in America is NONE, the loss is not just for Gd, it is for every human being.  When we say that we can do it alone, we can live alone, without the support of a community, we are hurting ourselves and others.  When we return to synagogue, when we really become a part of the community, when we help each other, we find gifts we never knew could exist.

On Shabbat mornings, for those that come to the beginning of our service, we look at different rabbinic texts.   One of them comes from Talmud Sotah 14a

Rabbi Chama said in the name of Rabbi Chanina: “Follow Adonai your Gd” (Deuteronomy 13:5): What does this mean? Is it possible for a mortal to follow Gd’s presence? The verse means to teach us that we should follow the attributes of the holy One. As Gd clothes the naked, you should clothe the naked.  The Bible teaches that the Holy One visited the sick; you should visit the sick.  The Holy One comforted those who mourned; you should comfort those who mourn.  The Holy One buried the dead; you should bury the dead. (p.69 of Sim Shalom for Shabbat and Festivals, Rabbinical Assembly, 1998)

Rabbi Chama does not say that prayer is the only way to find Gd.  Rather he says, that there are a multitude of paths, to follow Gd.  Yet, allowing ourselves to be open to prayer certainly helps!  When Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, a legendary teacher at JTS before his untimely death, marched with Martin Luther King, Jr., fighting for Civil Rights in this country, he said that he was praying with his legs.  (But I can pretty much guarantee that he also put on Tefillin and davened Shacharit before that march.)  Prayer, study, lead us to holy action.  They lead us to fulfillment in life.

There is an old story about a grieving woman who remained at home and was very depressed.  She told visitors to go away and her family became very worried.  Finally, she let her rabbi visit. He told her the secret to grief was found in a home that knew no sorrow.  She must find that family and eat an apple from their garden.  She wandered around her village, her province, her country looking for this family.  As she explored the world, she spoke to people, heard their stories and offered comfort.  Eventually she realized that there was no family without loss,AND she was no longer depressed.  She found that her true purpose, what brought her life meaning was helping others through THEIR time of need.

The secret of happiness is through following the Divine, filling the Gd-shaped hole.  The secret of happiness is finding the sacred in your life.  The secret of happiness is helping others--whether your family, your friends, those you’ve never met or your community.

Rabbi Ed Feinstein, a prominent rabbi on the West Coast wrote about the pursuit of happiness.  He said that seeking only pleasure is doomed to fail, but if instead we “ walk the world seeking connection, attachment, relationship, intimacy” even “with all its heartache and frustration and pain, is to walk with God and to earn eternity.” He teaches that walking together, walking towards good, walking towards Gd will not only make us happier, it will fulfill us.

Today is the second day of Rosh Hashanah.  Next Shabbat will be Yom Kippur.  In between are the Aseret Yamei Tshuvah, the ten days of repentance.  But they are not just a time for us to repent to Gd or to others, they are a time for us to repent to ourselves.  We have missed many opportunities to make ourselves better.  Let’s begin working towards our best selves.  What I have discussed this morning are big steps, but there are many little steps along the way.  On Kol Nidre, I am going to speak about how we can change our lives, one step at a time.  I am going to speak about taking one moment a day to thank GD for the blessings around us.  That is one way to change your life.  Another is to spend these days in community and connection.  When you do something fun this week, invite a friend.  

Share your resources with those that need it.  Next year I want to give everyone a pushke, a tzedekah box, so you can put your pennies and dimes to work for the shul.  In the meantime, put your change in a jar, share it with the charity of your choice (or CAI).  (If you need some suggestions, let me know, I’ve got tons!)  

Share your mind, join a class here, help me start another study group; join one of our books clubs.  

Share your soul:  Come to minyan, start a meditation circle, find spiritual practices that will help you let Gd in.  Rabbi Feinstein says “This year, earn your immortality in the heart of community.”  What he means is that together we can do great things.  Together we can find the holiness in each other and connect to the Divine.  Together we can find the secret to happiness, which as we have seen, is not a secret at all.

Just by coming in today you are one step closer to Gd and to TRUE happiness.  You have found a corner of the sky, maybe it is yours!

RH Day 1: Gd shaped hole

Rabbi Philip Weintraub

Congregation Agudas Israel

Rosh Hashanah Day 1, 2013

September 5, 2013

L’shanah Tovah, I wish you a sweet, blessed, and fulfilling New Year. May you be written into the book of life.  It is wonderful to see your faces this morning. It brings me great joy to celebrate with you, here at Congregation Agudas Israel.  I want to welcome back the sweet voice of Shoshana Friedman, a rabbinical student from Hebrew College in Boston.  Hearing her voice has elevated my prayers to the heavens and I pray the same is true for all of you.

Last night I shared a fictional story about missed connections.  Written as a story about a missed opportunity on a New York City subway, I said that I thought it could be about our relationships with Gd.  For many of us, Gd is a missed connection.  Deep in our kishkas, deep in our soul we find the seed of belief, the spark of the Divine, but we do not know how to light it up.  I call this the Gd-shaped hole.  

Within every one of us is the Gd-shaped hole.  In 1997, neuroscientists at UCSD claimed they found the Gd spot in our brains.  They argued that we were genetically programmed to believe in Gd and many atheist groups used this to argue that Gd is simply a human construct, a delusion or hallucination.  From their perspective, Gd is all in our head.  More recent studies from the University of Missouri show that spirituality cannot be reduced to one specific section of our brains, rather that various parts of our brain “light” up when we find ways to connect to the Divine.  From my perspective, the idea that we have been genetically programmed to belief is not proof against the existence of Gd, but perhaps support for the idea that we are here with a purpose, that Gd put us on this Earth.

When we talk about GD, what are we talking about?  Many different people, and many different Jews understand Gd in MANY different ways.  When Maimonides spoke about Gd, he said that we could only speak about the Divine in the negative.  We could not affirm Gd’s traits unless they were extant in rabbinic literature.  If we did not have biblical or rabbinic proof, we could say that GD is NOT evil, but without that support, we could not say that Gd IS good.  Maimonides felt very strongly that Gd was not corporeal, meaning Gd does not have a physical body like we do.  He argued that any biblical text that spoke of Gd’s hand or finger or leg was speaking metaphorically.  Yet, in his time, most Jews believed that when the Torah said we were created in the Divine Image, it meant that literally.  There is even a mystical book called the Shiur Komah which includes actual dimensions for Gd’s arms, legs, fingers, toes, head, and even more personal organs!

Within Jewish tradition, we have many names of Gd that speak of different aspects of Gd’s personality (for lack of a better word).  

When Moses saw the burning bush, Gd called Gdself  “Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh”, I will be what I will be, using Hebrew grammar to show that as we say on these days Adonai melech, Adonai malach, Adonai Yimloch Leolam Vaed, Gd is ruler, Gd was ruler, Gd will always be ruler.  Yet that word is from the verb “to be”, meaning that that Gd is, was and always will be, that Gd is eternal.  The sounds of that name are like the sounds we make, that Gd is part of every breath we take.

The most important of Gd’s Names is the four letter name, the tetragrammaton, Yod Hey Vav Hey (YHVH).  Called the Ineffabale Name, the Unutterable Name, it was pronounced by the high priest on Yom Kippur in the Holy of Holies and otherwise never spoken.  (Kabbalists see great meaning in the power of Divine names, claiming to change our world through the judicious use of secret names of Gd.  Some have even claimed to bring life from the inanimate, like the famous Golem of Prague.)

YHVH is often followed by the word Tzav’ot, often translated as the “Lord of Hosts” or the Lord of the Armies.  While not frequent to the Torah, the Prophets and the Psalms regularly call upon Gd this way.

The Torah opens with בְּרֵאשִׁית, בָּרָא אֱ-לֹהִים, אֵת הַשָּׁמַיִם, וְאֵת הָאָרֶץwhen Gd began creating the heavens and the earth.  This name of Gd is used in Torah to emphasize Gd’s might, creative power and attributes of justice and kingship/rulership.  We use it regularly in the Shema  --Shema Yisrael Adonai Elohenu, Adonai Echad.  Eloheinu takes Elohim from Gd in general to OUR Gd.

El Shaddai, Gd almighty, Gd who gives great benefits, is written on the outside of our mezuzot.  Some say it is an abbreviation for Shomer Daltot Yisrael, Guardian of the Doors of Israel.  Others follow a Midrash, saying it means “the one who said “dai””, which in Hebrew means “enough!” (like Dayenu).

Shechinah is often used to speak of Gd’s sheltering presence, Gd’s feminine side, mothering side.  Shechinah is used to discuss Gd’s compassion or to call upon when we need help.  Shechinah describes Gd’s immanence, the presence we feel when we need GD.

In prayer we call upon Avinu Shabashamayim, our father in heaven, Melech Haolam, Ruler of space and time or King of the universe.  On special days, like Yom Kippur, we speak of Avinu Malkeinu, our father our ruler.  In our machzor, an alternative Avinu Malkeinu is included, (p. 244) that offers another 21 names for Gd.)  We sing Anu Amecha, vata Eloheinu, anu vanecha, vatah avinu.  We are your people, and You are our God, we are your children, and you are our parent.  We are Your servants and You are our master, we are your congregaiton and You are our portion. (Machzor Lev Shalem, p.347)

Every single time we pray an Amidah, (which on the High Holidays is a LOT), we open with Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Velohei Avoteinu, Elohei Avraham, Elohai Yitzhak, V’elohai Ya’akov, Elohei Sarah, Elohei Rivkah, Elohai Rachel, V’elohei Leah.  I am happy that our Machzor translates differently than our Siddur.  In our siddur it simply says Gd of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, but our Machzor clearly says Gd of Abraham, Gd of Isaac. . .What is the major difference between the two?  The first says that each of them prayed and connected to Gd in the same way.  The second translation shows that each and every matriarch and patriarch, every single one of our ancestors connected to Gd a little bit differently.  The same is true today.  Whether you walk into a Satmar shtiebel or Belzer congregation or Reform Temple or Conservative shul, you will find that not only do our communities think of Gd in slightly or radically different ways, but every individual understands Gd just a little bit differently.

For some Jews, their image of Gd is the one we speak of regularly on Rosh Hashanah, sitting in a throne judging us like a shepherd judges his sheep.  For others, Gd is much more abstract.  It is the goodness in the world, the good we do or the good ALL do.    Some Jews speak of Gd not as a being, but as a force, or even a verb.  For some Gd is more exclusive than Gd is for others.  Some Jews relate to Rabbi Mordechai Kaplan’s rationalist view, while others find Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel’s view more inspiring. For some Jews any discussion of Gd is too much!  They would rather pray, live as Jews, and not worry too much about the precise nature of Gd.  It is too abstract or simply too much.  Many people are simply too busy to stop and ponder the nature of the Divine.

For me, I think it is important for us to have these conversations periodically. Thinking about Gd is thinking about our connection to Judaism, to life.  We were all created, placed on this world for a purpose.  We live and die on this Earth, yet with our death has our soul completed its journey?

However we think about GD, opening the door to Gd is much like the story I told last night.  If we are sitting on the subway, ignoring the person we so desperately desire to speak to, we might miss our chance.  The difference is that with Gd, Gd is always on that subway.  Gd never gets off.  Even when we feel that Gd has abandoned us, even if we do not believe in Gd, Gd is there waiting for us.

Today you have given yourself a gift.  You might not think about it that way.  You might be thinking about what time is lunch? Or when can I sneak out when no one is looking? Or how many pages are left?  Yet, even if you are thinking that, you have given yourself the gift of sacred time.  You have looked at your work, your life and said, I need to take a day to recharge, to engage my spiritual batteries.  Whether you come for the joy of a day in prayer or because it is simply what you do on Rosh Hashanah, I believe you are better off for walking through these doors today.

In the days to come, I will continue to discuss this Gd shaped hole.  I will continue to discuss ways to fill it.  You have taken the first step.  You are here.

Within every one of us is a Gd shaped hole.  It is the place that craves spirituality.  It is the place that craves the experience of the Divine, of Gd.  It is a place that craves holiness, friendship, family, food, sex, the full depth and breadth of human experience.  Some of those needs can be met in this room.  Some cannot.  To me, the synagogue, prayer is like a spiritual check-up.  Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are our yearly physicals.  Shabbat is our regular exercise and daily prayer is like our morning coffee (if that is your custom).

We can try to fill the Gd shaped hole with lots of things, some good, some bad and some just things.  We can buy new toys or cars or homes or gadgets or curtains or pillows or furniture.  We can look for love from others or from things.  We can search for comfort with food or drink or in the arms of others.  Yet at the end of the day, there is only One who can fill and fulfill this hole, this need and make us shalem, whole.  The only one that fill that Gd-shaped hole is GD.  By being here today, I pray that we help you discover the holiness within, Gd, who has been with you the entire time.

Tomorrow I will discuss joy, happiness.  How can we be happy in an imperfect world?  How can Gd and Judaism bring genuine joy into our lives, even amidst difficult times?  On Yom Kippur, I will be speaking about more ways to access our traditions, more ways to let Gd in.  In this room are many flyers and articles.  They discuss all that we are doing here.  I hope you will look at them, join us on other days and bring your holy voice and holy presence to my classes, our social events and more.  Every single one of you has the spark of the Divine within.  Every single one of you brings blessing into this holy space simply by walking through the doors.  Help us and help yourself at the same time.  Come again!  Besides, if you come any other Shabbat or Holiday, the service is quite a bit shorter.

Now I know that as soon as I close my mouth, many of you are going to walk out that door.  That’s just how it is.  I do want to let you know though, that Musaf is NOT as long as you think it is AND continues to focus on the themes of this day: holiness, judgement, tshuvah and the biggest one of all, the place of Gd in our lives.

RH Eve story/sermon

Rabbi Philip Weintraub

Congregation Agudas Israel

L’shanah Tovah!  It is wonderful to see you this evening.  This year I’m following my custom of opening Rosh Hashanah with a story that has inspired me or made me think.  However, I am adding to my custom, by using my main point in this story from now until Yom Kippur.  This year it is not a Hasidic story or a Biblical story.  It is not even a Talmudic story, but rather a modern one.  Set on the subway, it was written as a missed connection on the Brooklyn craigslist, a place where people share public encounters, hoping that their missed opportunity will be read by the one they missed and they will receive a second chance.  (Much like we hope for on Rosh Hashanah.)  Normally I explain the story after I finish, but this story cried for more explanation.  While it is a story of a man and a woman missing each other, it made me think about the way some of us yearn for Gd, but are afraid to do anything about it.  I hope this story will help you discover the yearning within AND help you find a way to satisfy that need.  With no further ado:

http://newyork.craigslist.org/brk/mis/3985247459.html

Missed Connection - m4w

I saw you on the Manhattan-bound Brooklyn Q train.

I was wearing a blue-striped t-shirt and a pair of maroon pants. You were wearing a vintage red skirt and a smart white blouse. We both wore glasses. I guess we still do.

You got on at DeKalb and sat across from me and we made eye contact, briefly. I fell in love with you a little bit, in that stupid way where you completely make up a fictional version of the person you're looking at and fall in love with that person. But still I think there was something there.

Several times we looked at each other and then looked away. I tried to think of something to say to you -- maybe pretend I didn't know where I was going and ask you for directions or say something nice about your boot-shaped earrings, or just say, "Hot day." It all seemed so stupid.

At one point, I caught you staring at me and you immediately averted your eyes. You pulled a book out of your bag and started reading it -- a biography of Lyndon Johnson -- but I noticed you never once turned a page.

My stop was Union Square, but at Union Square I decided to stay on, rationalizing that I could just as easily transfer to the 7 at 42nd Street, but then I didn't get off at 42nd Street either. You must have missed your stop as well, because when we got all the way to the end of the line at Ditmars, we both just sat there in the car, waiting.

I cocked my head at you inquisitively. You shrugged and held up your book as if that was the reason.

Still I said nothing.

We took the train all the way back down -- down through Astoria, across the East River, weaving through midtown, from Times Square to Herald Square to Union Square, under SoHo and Chinatown, up across the bridge back into Brooklyn, past Barclays and Prospect Park, past Flatbush and Midwood and Sheepshead Bay, all the way to Coney Island. And when we got to Coney Island, I knew I had to say something.

Still I said nothing.

And so we went back up.

Up and down the Q line, over and over. We caught the rush hour crowds and then saw them thin out again. We watched the sun set over Manhattan as we crossed the East River. I gave myself deadlines: I'll talk to her before Newkirk; I'll talk to her before Canal. Still I remained silent.

For months we sat on the train saying nothing to each other. We survived on bags of skittles sold to us by kids raising money for their basketball teams. We must have heard a million mariachi bands, had our faces nearly kicked in by a hundred thousand break dancers. I gave money to the beggars until I ran out of singles. When the train went above ground I'd get text messages and voicemails ("Where are you? What happened? Are you okay?") until my phone ran out of battery.

I'll talk to her before daybreak; I'll talk to her before Tuesday. The longer I waited, the harder it got. What could I possibly say to you now, now that we've passed this same station for the hundredth time? Maybe if I could go back to the first time the Q switched over to the local R line for the weekend, I could have said, "Well, this is inconvenient," but I couldn't very well say it now, could I? I would kick myself for days after every time you sneezed -- why hadn't I said "Bless You"? That tiny gesture could have been enough to pivot us into a conversation, but here in stupid silence still we sat.

There were nights when we were the only two souls in the car, perhaps even on the whole train, and even then I felt self-conscious about bothering you. She's reading her book, I thought, she doesn't want to talk to me. Still, there were moments when I felt a connection. Someone would shout something crazy about Jesus and we'd immediately look at each other to register our reactions. A couple of teenagers would exit, holding hands, and we'd both think: Young Love.

For sixty years, we sat in that car, just barely pretending not to notice each other. I got to know you so well, if only peripherally. I memorized the folds of your body, the contours of your face, the patterns of your breath. I saw you cry once after you'd glanced at a neighbor's newspaper. I wondered if you were crying about something specific, or just the general passage of time, so unnoticeable until suddenly noticeable. I wanted to comfort you, wrap my arms around you, assure you I knew everything would be fine, but it felt too familiar; I stayed glued to my seat.

One day, in the middle of the afternoon, you stood up as the train pulled into Queensboro Plaza. It was difficult for you, this simple task of standing up, you hadn't done it in sixty years. Holding onto the rails, you managed to get yourself to the door. You hesitated briefly there, perhaps waiting for me to say something, giving me one last chance to stop you, but rather than spit out a lifetime of suppressed almost-conversations I said nothing, and I watched you slip out between the closing sliding doors.

It took me a few more stops before I realized you were really gone. I kept waiting for you to reenter the subway car, sit down next to me, rest your head on my shoulder. Nothing would be said. Nothing would need to be said.

When the train returned to Queensboro Plaza, I craned my neck as we entered the station. Perhaps you were there, on the platform, still waiting. Perhaps I would see you, smiling and bright, your long gray hair waving in the wind from the oncoming train.

But no, you were gone. And I realized most likely I would never see you again. And I thought about how amazing it is that you can know somebody for sixty years and yet still not really know that person at all.

I stayed on the train until it got to Union Square, at which point I got off and transferred to the L.

This story starts out so real and then goes into the realm of fiction.  Yet I find that in the fiction we find the deepest truth.  Whether in love or in religion, it is through that yearning that we can find our deepest truth, our holiest moments.  

In life and in love, we make assumptions about others.  We project our feelings upon the objects of our affection, turning them from three-dimensional people into one dimensional objects.  This story shows this so clearly.  The narrator feels he is in love.  He feels she is in love, yet they never speak a word.  Everything is left unsaid.  Do we recognize the humanity of those we love or do we define them ourselves?  When do our expectations of our loved ones differ with their realities?

On a spiritual level, how do we see our relationship with GD?  What do we project upon Gd?  Do we see Gd reflected in our image or ourselves in the image of Gd?

To me this story shows a theme I will elaborate upon tomorrow, the GD-shaped hole.  I firmly believe that within all of us is a GD-shaped hole.  It is filled with the spark of the Divine, the image of GD that GD left within each of us at our creation, yet it must be simultaneously filled with our Jewish actions and beliefs.  For many, this whole remains empty, their yearning is unrequited.  Yet we need only reach out, live deeply and discover that the hole is now shalem, whole, and our souls are more complete.

“And I thought about how amazing it is that you can know somebody for sixty years and yet still not really know that person at all.”

For many of us, we have not changed our thoughts about GD since we were little children.  We have known Gd for 20 years, 40 years, 60 years, 90 years, yet while every other relationship in our lives has matured, one has remained the same.  As we enter into Rosh Hashanah, I invite you to think about your connection to the Divine.  What is your vision of GD?  How can you bring that vision to your present circumstances?  How can you use it to inspire yourself today and all of the tomorrows to come?

L’shana Tovah!