2023 Yom Kippur Evening: Be Better

My three year old son Aaron knows most of the characters from Star Wars. Upon first learning about a new character, he is insistent to know whether each character is a good guy or a bad guy. Yoda is a good guy. Luke … good guy. His understanding of gender is in development, so Princess Leia is … a good guy. Emperor Palpatine is easy: bad guy. Spider-Man, Superman, and his new favorites - the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - all good guys. But if you ask him about the Incredible Hulk, he will tell you that the Hulk is a good guy that sometimes does bad things.

This is how human beings are. Good people that sometimes do bad things. Almost all of us have good intentions, and have our hearts “in the right place.” But tonight on this night of vows and promises, I ask, how much do those good intentions matter when there is hunger and suffering and poverty and discord?

As we said during Rosh Hashanah, If you want to see God save the innocent, you need to get off the couch and save the innocent. If you want to see God feed the hungry, you need to feed the hungry.

The problem is that it’s hard. It’s really hard.

A rabbi teaching a class in Israel gave this illustration, and it has stuck with me for over twenty years: People will spend $150 on a ticket to see the musical, Les Miserables, and our eyes will moisten at the depictions of poverty and inequality. When the musical ends, we give a rousing standing ovation, and leave the theater … and pretend not to see the homeless people sitting on the nearby steps.

There’s a gap between our desire for t’shuvah and our performance of it. And during this Day of Atonement, we face this incongruity head on, and we respond, Hineni. Here I am.

Yom Kippur takes place on the 10th of Tishrei, 9 days after Rosh Hashanah. Interestingly, this month of Tishrei corresponds to the zodiac sign of Libra, represented by two equally weighted scales.

In the Mishneh Torah, Maimonides writes, Every person needs to see themself as if they are equally balanced between innocence and guilt … If you do one mitzvah, behold, you have tipped yourself and the entire world to the side of innocence and you also bring about salvation for yourself.

Our tradition suggests that when Rosh Hashanah starts, our scales are balanced. During the next 10 days, we can tip the scales in one direction … or the other. Good deeds or bad deeds … And when Yom Kippur is over, judgement is made. This is stated in the Un’taneh Tokef prayer: On Rosh Hashanah it is written … on Yom Kippur it is sealed.

Yom Kippur is powerful because it forces us to realize that being good enough … isn’t good enough.

The metaphor of the scales motivates us with an urgency to our actions. Rather than ponder and plan, we should rush to do something that tilts the scales of judgment in the right direction.

There’s a famous phrase attributed to Rabbi Nachman of Bratslov:

• כָּל הָעוֹלָם כֻּלוּ גֶּשֶׁר צַר מְּאֹד, וְהָעִקָּר לֹא לְפַחֵד כְּלַל

The world is a narrow bridge, and the most important thing is not to be afraid.

This teaching emphasizes the challenge in front of us. The world is indeed a narrow bridge. We are buffeted on all sides with distractions and difficulties, time commitments and responsibilities.

But what should we do with Nachman’s solution, do not be afraid? It is a beautiful idea, and is undoubtedly comforting, especially during difficult times. But as I wrote in one of the daily Elul reflections, I think that it’s wrong!

The most important thing is not not to be afraid. The most important thing is to walk across the bridge, regardless of whether you are afraid or not!

This is why Judaism places such an emphasis on the concept of Mitzvah - on commandedness. Because rather than wait until we might be inspired to give tzedakah, or wanting to feed the poor, or having enough free time to volunteer, it simply commands us to do so.

Effort. Action. Not wishes or intentions.

Good enough is not good enough. And yes it is hard, but as God says about the Torah, It is in our mouths and our heart. It is possible.

In the season finale of Ted Lasso, Assistant Coach Roy Kent surprises his colleagues with a moment of vulnerability. He says to them that for the past year, he has busted his butt trying to change. But he thinks he hasn’t done anything worthwhile, because as he says, I’m still me.

Surprised, Ted Lasso asks: Wait, did you want to be someone else?

Kent responds, Yeah … Someone better. Then he asks, Can people change?

Trent: I don’t think we change per se as much as we just learn to accept who we’ve always been.

Nate, who has gone through a significant t’shuvah arc of his own says, Oh no, I think people can change. Sometimes for the worse … sometimes for the better.

The Director of Operations, Leslie Higgins concludes the discussion: Human beings are never going to be perfect. The best we can do is to keep asking for help and accepting it when you can. If you keep on doing that, you’ll always be moving towards better.

This is exactly what Judaism is all about. Moving towards better. The Hebrew word for our system of laws and rituals is called halachah, meaning “the path.” This path doesn’t reach a finish line or a goal - the goal is the path - moving forward.

We “move toward better” by getting help. THIS tilts the scales.

We all need help. The Psalmist knew that when he penned Psalm 121:

Sing

אֶשָּׂ֣א עֵ֭ינַי אֶל־הֶהָרִ֑ים מֵ֝אַ֗יִן יָבֹ֥א עֶזְרִֽי
עֶזְרִ֗י מֵעִ֥ם יְהוָֽה עֹֽשֵׂ֫ה שָ֥מַיִם וָאָֽרֶץ

The translation reads, I lift my eyes up to the mountains, where does my help come from? My help comes from God, the creator of heaven and earth.

Help can come from God, but also from everything in God’s creation. It comes from the beauty of nature, the power of friendship, the sanctity of a minyan, the wisdom of Torah, the ability to listen to others, and the ability to listen to the still, small voice within us.

We do good things when we ask for help, and when we listen to the answers. This is what it means to be inscribed in the book of Life. Now go do it, and walk across the narrow bridge.