Rabbi Janet Offel
Kol Nidre 5767
The Big Six
Tonight,
Kol Nidre, is the beginning of a 26 hour period of intense introspection,
reflection and self-examination. The
sages taught that it is a period of time in which we figuratively die and are
reborn, cleansing our souls in preparation for a New Year. Traditionally, we wear white from head to
toe, and men don a garment called a kittel
for this holiday. Spun of white linen,
the kittel is the article of clothing
in which one is dressed for burial. On
this holiday of symbolic death and rebirth, the wearing of a kittel signifies the transition our
souls undertake.
But how do
we embark upon this process of self-examination? We live in a world in which introspection and
reflection do not seem to be particularly appreciated. We live in the days and nights of 24/7. Our Blackberries never sleep and it is always
rush hour on the internet highway. We
seem to be in a constant state of fight or flight, ever diligent in our quest
to increase productivity and manage our resources more carefully.
Tonight, our tradition draws us back to the
words of the sages. Men of learning and
insight, they teach us that on the day we die, each of us will be asked six
questions before we are welcomed into the World to Come. Moving from the concrete into the realm of the
spiritual, the rabbis draw upon a series of questions that we can pose to
ourselves as we enter into this holy day of death and rebirth.
The first
question is by far the most concrete. Were
you honest in your business dealings? Our
greatest sages were men of this world. Many
of them made their living as shopkeepers, cobblers, blacksmiths and
farmers. A famous early dictum is “If
one is honest in his business dealings and people esteem him, it is accounted
to him as though he has fulfilled the whole Torah.” (Mekhilta, Vayeesa, chapter 1, as noted in Jewish Wisdom by Joseph Telushkin.). For the sages, the worlds of Torah and daily
life were seamless and fluid. In Jewish
life, honesty and integrity are prized possessions, more cherished and esteemed
than gold and silver. Yet, like us, the
sages lived in a society in which all too often, the characteristics of honesty
and integrity were deemed naïve and credulous.
In the modern world, all the more so.
The 19th century ethicist, Rabbi Israel Salanter is said to
have remarked to one of his students that “it takes twice as much spiritual
strength to be an honest businessperson as to be an honest rabbi, but if you
have that much spiritual strength, why waste it on business?” (Jewish Wisdom, pg. 371).
The starting point for how we live
our lives is the way that we handle the daily give and take of living in the
larger society. Rabbi Yitzchok
Breitowitz reminds us that the test of a moral and ethical person is not
whether he or she behaves morally when others are behaving morally. The test of an ethical and moral person is
one who can adhere to those values even if everyone else fails to adhere to
them.
Question number two: Did you fix
times for learning? In other words, are
you a person who continues to embrace knowledge and to glean new experiences
from life? One of my rabbinic colleagues
suggests that this question refers to our ability to prioritize our lives,
finding time not only for the acquisition of material goods, but of
learning. Told that a certain man had
acquired great wealth, a sage asked, “Has he also acquired the days in which to
spend it?” (Jewish Wisdom, page
279). The 19th century German
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, late in his life, surprised his students by
insisting on taking a trip to
Judaism has always drawn from the
larger world in which we live for wisdom and insight, believing that everything
is under God’s dominion. Yet too often,
we become caught up in the minutia of our daily lives, forgetting that there is
a world outside that beckons to us. Do
we find the time each day to step back and seek wisdom? Do we fix periods of
time throughout our lives in which to acquire knowledge from our own rich
Jewish tradition and gain awareness from all that the world has to offer? Have you
seen God’s
Number three: Literally, did you engage in
procreation? My interpretation of this question is what is your legacy? What have you created and nurtured in this
world? Yes, the physical act of
procreation is one aspect of this question, but it is really much more. I will never forget a sermon that one of my
classmates delivered at
One of my favorite Jewish traditions
is that of an ethical will. It is a
tradition that dates all the way back to our Biblical forefathers, when Jacob
calls his sons to his bedside and addresses each of them about their life and
their future. Unlike the wills that all
of us have made in our lives, reflecting the disposition of our tangible
assets, ethical wills refer to the intangible values, beliefs and teachings that
we hold dear. In today’s world, we are
often focused on the tangibles that we will leave behind: homes and materials
investments. Yet who we are is not
reflected only in the material gains that we have amassed during a
lifetime. Our legacies are much greater
than the monetary value of our financial portfolios. Ethical wills are the means by which we pass
along our sense of meaning and purpose in life.
A love letter to one’s family, each one as unique as the person writing
it. What is your legacy? When will you write your ethical will?
Number four is a tough one for us Reform Jews: did you hope for salvation? We often think of salvation as a Christian term, but where do you think they got the idea? When will salvation come? As Jews, we have been waiting for the arrival of the messiah since Elijah first rode to heaven in his fiery chariot. How can we understand this notion? In reform Judaism, we often don’t speak of the messiah, but rather of the messianic time—a future period that is dependent upon all of human