Archive for the ‘Repenting Sins’ category

Fueled By Regret

September 16, 2013

I wish I was perfect.  Not so much “perfect” in that I would be the handsomest man alive or the most intelligent or a phenomenal athlete or a virtuoso musician or vocalist, or even the most eloquent speaker and writer.  Rather I wish I was a perfect person, personality and character-wise.

I wish I always was attuned to others and sensitive to their needs.  I wish I always knew the right thing to say and when to say it, and when to keep silent.

I wish that I could more appropriately express what is on my mind and in my heart, sharing what I think and how I feel in such a way that I don’t permit the emotions of the moment to take me where I really don’t want to go yet still be able to communicate effectively enough that my messages are not misread or misinterpreted by others.  I wish I was better at telling people how much I love them, how much I care for them, how much I appreciate their being in my life.

I wish I could better channel my anger; not extinguish or bury it but channel it toward productive ends rather than disruptive or destructive ends.  For anger is not necessarily a bad thing.  It can be a force for good if it inspires us to confront injustices – small or large – and work for constructive change.

I wish I could be truer to my values, doing a better job at “practicing what I preach” so to speak.  It is not that I don’t really believe what I say, but it is so easy to get distracted and re-directed, often misdirected, and then there is all that ego which so readily gets in the way.  Indeed, I wish I could do a better job at putting my ego aside, spending less time thinking about myself and my wants and my needs and more time thinking about the wants and needs of others.

I wish I was both more consistent and more flexible.  I know that seems like a contradiction in terms but it really isn’t.  Ideally, consistency should rule.  In every situation, we would know where we stand, and others who know us, would be able to anticipate it as well.  In our consistency they would come to trust us.  But life isn’t ideal.  Life can be messy.  The rules don’t always provide the best answer.  So at times we have to be able to bend and go with the flow.  We have to be able to adapt.  The trick is in knowing when to be consistent and when to bend.  The rabbis of the Midrash tell us that when God was considering creating humanity, there was a heated debate among the angels.  They were divided into two camps, those who opposed the creation of humanity and those who supported it.  Those who opposed humanity’s creation did so on the grounds of justice, in that they foresaw that often human beings would be unjust.  As for those who favored humanity’s creation, they did so on the grounds of mercy, in that they foresaw that many would be the times when human beings would demonstrate great compassion.  In the end, God decided to create humanity but to do so in a balance between justice and mercy.[1]  That is still my challenge.  How can I better balance justice and mercy in the decision making of my life?

Speaking of balance, I wish I could better balance my time.  Time management has never been one of my strong suits.  Days seem to fly by, yet when I consider how much time I have frittered away, one way or another – time which could have been used far more productively – I have no choice but to realize that I have no one to blame but myself.  Yet our time is such a precious commodity, all the more precious for the demands upon it far outweigh the supply.  Everyone wants a piece of our time and everyone deserves a piece of it; our family, our job, our friends, our community, our world, and of course, also ourselves.  Yes, we need to make time for others but we also need to make time for ourselves.  So how do we make the most of the little that we have?  How do I make the most of the little I have?

I wish I could be more organized.  One look at my desk provides ample testimony to what degree chaos rules my life.  I look at those whose desks are clear and neat, where you can actually see the wood of the desktop and I am filled with wonderment.  How can they do that?  Life can be a hectic and overwhelming enterprise.  In one way or another we are all jugglers and it seems that the number of balls we are ex­pected to keep in the air at any given time only increases.  Rarely, if ever, do they decrease.  Some people prove to be great jugglers.  Others not so much so.  Most of us fall somewhere in between. Oh, but to be one of life’s great jugglers!  What a pleasure that would be!

I have many regrets.  So many things I wish I could have done better.  So many ways I wish I had taken the opportunity to demonstrate myself to be a better person.

I have regrets.  We all have regrets.  I suspect that many of us have shared regrets; that some of my regrets are also some of yours and that some of your regrets are also some of mine.  And if there is anyone among us who thinks to him or herself, “I have no regrets!” then surely they are deluding themselves.  For we all are human beings, and part of our nature is that we are imperfect.  We make mistakes.  We do not always live up to our potential.  There are always ways in which we can do better.  We all have, or should have, regrets, and if we don’t that is not because we are so perfect but rather because we are so flawed that we have blinded ourselves to our own shortcomings.

This somber holy day of Yom Kippur offers us a very special gift; the gift of the possibility of a new beginning for our lives.  We can come to the synagogue and sit and pray, and maybe even fast, and suffer, and then leave, walking out of this building’s doors the same person who entered through them.  Un­changed.  Or, we can choose to take the message of Yom Kippur to heart and believe that we can change; and embrace the opportunity to change – change for the better.

But how do we begin that process of change?  We begin with regret.  Before we can change, we have to confront our lives, as we have lived them so far, and acknowledge that we have been less than we could have been.  We must acknowledge that we have regrets.  More than acknowledge them, we must number and catalog our regrets; creating our own personal laundry list of them.  For until we are ready to come face to face with our regrets, we can never change.  We can want to change.  We can hope to change, but we can never really change.

I know that it is hard to face the fact that we have been less than we could have been.  Believe you me, it was no easy task for me to lay out before you my regrets, and harder still knowing that the list I shared with you is incomplete; that there are those which are buried so deep, I could not even give them expression.  But nobody ever promised us that there is an easy path to change.  Change is hard, and it can be painful, but if we are willing to face the hardship and endure the pain, it also can be well worth it.  Anyone who has ever worked out at a gym or gone on a diet knows from whence I speak.  But truth be told, while strengthening our body is a good thing, strengthening our character is a wondrous thing of manifold greater significance.  For while all the efforts that we invest in diet and exercise may make us thinner, healthier, and stronger, they do not change the people are; only the bodies we inhabit.  Yet traveling the path laid out to us by Yom Kippur – the path that begins with regret and moves toward repentance, atone­ment, and hopeful forgiveness – can make of us better people.  When you think about it, if you had to make a choice, which would you prefer?  To be known as a thin person or a good person?  A strong person or a decent person?  A physically fit person or a person worthy of respect?  Of course we don’t have to choose between them.  We can, if we so choose, be both thin and good, strong and decent, physically fit and worthy of respect.  But even if we possessed both, of which would we be prouder?

So let us seriously take this Yom Kippur opportunity to consider those aspects of our lives which we sincerely regret.  Let our sense of regret fuel our energy for change.  Let us commit ourselves to the work of making ourselves, not perfect, but better in the coming year.  Let us commit ourselves to transforming today’s regrets into our building blocks with which we will build of ourselves better people as we march into our future.


[1] BERESHIT RABBA 8.

The Sin of Standing Idly By

September 28, 2012

It was back on Rosh Hashanah evening of 1999 that I presented to my congregation a very unsettling sermon entitled “Summer of Hate; Winter of Challenge.”  It was all about how the Summer of 1999 was marked by hate crime after hate crime; act of violence after act of violence, many, but not all of which, were targeted at fellow Jews.  The most famous of those acts of violence was the shooting at Columbine High School in Colorado.  But beside from the Columbine shooting, during that summer there were also synagogue burnings in Sacramento, California, a noted member of a hate group going on a shooting spree in Illinois and Indiana, targeting Jews, African Americans and Asians, and another hate group member entering a Jewish community center in Granada Hills, a suburb of  Los Angeles, in order to shoot Jewish children in a day care program.  It was an extremely violent summer and it was time for us as Americans to put an end to hate and particularly gun violence in our nation.

This coming Spring, my congregation will celebrate with two wonderful young ladies as each will become a Bat Mitzvah.  When I gave that sermon back in 1999, those two young ladies were not yet born.  Yet here they are, each one preparing to become a Bat Mitzvah, and we Americans are still faced with some of the same dreadful problems as confronted us then, gun violence being one such problem; a major problem.

Indeed, the serious concern over this issue in our country even predates the birth of these young ladies.  In my congregation, three years before I gave that sermon, a young man by the name of Daniel Werner made gun violence, in the form of drive-by shootings, the topic of his Bar Mitz­vah speech.

Now it is 2012 and we have just endured another summer of violence; violence pouring out of the barrels of guns.  There was the shooting in the moving theater in Aurora, Colorado.  There was the shooting at the Sikh Temple in Milwaukee.  There was the shooting at the headquarters of the Family Research Council in Washington, D.C.  There was the shooting in front of the Empire State Building.  This summer’s gun violence was a shocking testimony to how broad based is this problem.  Today, resorting to using firearms as a means of expression is not just to be found in the realm of the political or social radicals.  There are many different kinds of people who pick up guns and pull the trigger as an expression of their own inner turmoil.  The shooter in Colorado used a gun to give expression to his own mental illness.  In Milwaukee, the shooter used it to express his prejudice against minorities.  In Washington, the shooter used it to express his anger at those who promote a conservative social agenda.  In New York, the shooter used it to express his frustration with events in his personal life.  And these only represent the incidents of gun violence that have merited the attention of the national news media.  They are but only the tip of the bloody iceberg of gun violence in America today.

Let me share with you some statistics, and I hope that these statistics disturb you as greatly as they disturb me.

The United Nations Office on Drugs and Crimes issues an annual Global Study on Homicide.  In its latest report, issued in 2011, the United States ranked 15th in the world in gun related homicides.  This report is rated by the number of gun related homicides for each 100,000 people in a nation’s population.  For the United States, the number is 4.6 for every 100,000 Americans.  The nations who rank higher than us are to be found primarily in Latin America and the Caribbean, with some in Eastern Europe.  However, when it comes to affluent nations, the United States ranks number 1, with no one else coming close.  In fact, the affluent European nations typically have a rate of 1 per 100,000, if not lower.  For example the rate for France is 1.4; for the United Kingdom, 1.1; for Italy, 1.0; for both Spain and Germany, 0.9; and for Switzerland, 0.7.  We Americans love to brag about our being #1, but this is a first place prize which should shake us to our very core.

While the United Nations report focuses on crime, and in this case homicides, there also has been a study done by the United States Center for Disease Control.  Theirs is a study of shootings in America, criminal and otherwise, fatal or not.  According to their findings, approximately 105,000 Americans are shot every year (104,852 in 2010) with approximately 31,500 of them being killed (31,347 in 2010).  This averages out to 287 Americans shot every day, 86 of them fatally.

When it comes to the number of Americans killed by guns every year, it may surprise you to learn that the number one cause of fatal gun deaths is not homicide.  It is suicide.  In 2010, while 11,493 of our fellow citizens were murdered with guns, 18,735 Americans use guns to kill themselves.  Several years ago, my brother-in-law was one of them.  He was a manic depressive who went off his medication.  He owned a pistol to protect his business.  But in a depressive state, alone in his house, he sat down on the couch in his family room, put the barrel of the pistol in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

The remainder of the annual gun deaths are categorized as either unintentional, undetermined or the result of a legal intervention, which I imagine is their way of saying that these people where shot and killed by law enforcement officers in the performance of their duties.

This study also points out that beside from those Americans who die at the barrel of a gun, every year there also are approximately 73,500 people who are shot but not killed (73,505 in 2010).  When we add up those numbers, we arrive at the devastating annual figure of approximately 105,000 Americans who are either killed or injured with a firearm.  This is nothing less than a profound national tragedy.

When we who live in the Quad Cities watch and read the news reports about all these shootings, we have a tendency to think of them as always happening someplace else, like in Colorado or New York.  Yet we in Iowa and Illinois are not immune to this disease of gun violence.  It touches our states and our communities as well.  According to the FBI’s latest Uniform Crime Report, there were 21 firearms related murders in Iowa in 2010 and 364 in Illinois.  During that year, there were other crimes such as robberies and aggravated assaults in which firearms were used as well.  But we do not need to turn to the statistics com­piled by the FBI to know that guns are killing people – often children – in our community.  All we need do is open the newspaper and watch the TV news.  In fact, just the other day one of my congregants – Linda Golden, who is a high school teacher in Rock Island, Illinois – was telling me about having attended a funeral for a student in her school who had been shot to death.  I would like to say that such shootings are rare in our community, but the fact is that they are happening far more often than we dare to admit.  But since they are not happening to our children, but to other peoples’ children, we tend to pay them scant heed.

Why am I talking to you about gun violence on Yom Kippur?  This is supposed to be a deeply spiritual day during which we plumb the depths of our own souls – when we take inventory of our lives – when we confront our own personal sins and shortcomings, and hopefully resolve to repair and correct them.  Where does gun violence fit into any of that?

The violence born of guns which plagues our nation – which draws our attention and breaks our hearts from time to time over the years, when there is a Columbine or a Granada Hills or a Virginia Tech, or an Aurora, Colorado, or a Sikh Temple shooting – is a corporate, national sin for which there must be both repentance and atonement.  Whether we realize it or not – whether we accept it or not – corporate national sins, especially in this nation which prides itself on being the great democracy, are also personal sins.  They belong to each and every one of us, just as much as all the sins we list in the “Al Chet Shechatanu” prayer; just as much as all those other sins which we may not have found listed in the High Holy Day prayer book but which each of us might have privately listed as we pondered our personal weak­nesses and failings and as we aspired to improve upon those behaviors in the year ahead.  As members of a democracy we do not possess the luxury to be able to say, “That’s the nation’s sin.  It is not mine.”  For they are ours.  For in a democracy, the sins of the nation become the sins of each of its citizens.  Why?  Because we create the nation.  We create it and we recreate it every single election day.  The people who make the decisions and take the actions, or fail to take the actions, which determine the very nature of our nation are the ones who come election day need our votes – our approval and our support – which in turn bestows upon them the power to mold our nation’s present and fashion its future.  So if our elected officials have allowed this nation to wallow in the sin of gun violence, we have no one to blame but ourselves, for we have permitted our elected officials to allow this tragedy to be reenacted time and time again without their making any effort to alter or stop it.  Yes, often they go to the sites of what the media luridly describes as “masacres” and they attend the funerals and they may even wax eloquent in their eulogies, but they do nothing to stop it.  Their tears are crocodile tears, and it is our fault – we, the voters – for we let them get away with it.

The sad reality is that we do not need to dress our young people up in uniforms and send them to foreign soil in order to suffer massive American casualties.   We only need to send them to high schools and colleges and houses of worship and movie theaters, for in our current gun environment they could just as easily fall victim in those places.  My daughter, Helene, and her friends love to go to these midnight movie premieres, like the premiere of the Batman film in Aurora at which that horrible shooting took place.  But as the Aurora shooting shows us, when one goes to such a premiere, one takes one’s life in their hands.  Are any of us so foolish as to believe that while it can happen in Aurora, Colorado it cannot happen in our own community?  Of course it can!  For it is as easy for an unstable person to acquire the firepower in most American communities as it was for James Eagan Holmes to acquire it Aurora, Colorado.  And if that were to happen in our own community, God forbid, then the sin would be upon our heads because we allowed those in power to remain in power while do nothing to protect our children from lunatics with guns.

On Yom Kippur afternoon, in Reform synagogues, we read from the Torah the text commonly called The Holiness Code.  In it there is a verse – Leviticus chapter 19, verse 16 – which states “You shall not stand idly by while your neighbor bleeds.”  This is the sin for which we must repent and atone; the sin of standing idly by while all our neighbors who have become victims in all of these shootings, time and time and time again have bled and died while we have remained silent.

This past summer, soon after the shootings in Aurora, the members of our new Quad Cities Interfaith Fellowship struggled with the question of how can our community of faiths put our various faiths to work so that as a united faith community we can say, “Enough already!  Too many have died and died need­lessly.”  So we have started to address this issue.  Our first step was to write a letter to our various elected officials, both local and national, expressing our concern.  An edited version of that letter appeared in Sunday’s Quad City Times  But that is not where our efforts will end.  Indeed, in the wake of the Milwaukee shooting we gave our full support to the local Sikh community.  Next month we will be meeting to look at future action steps.  One thing seem certain.  We wish to place a special emphasis on gun deaths in our own community.  As we develop our action plans, I pray that many others will join us in our efforts.

For far too long, we all have known about this blight upon our society.  We have condemned it.  We have mourned it.  But we have not taken sufficient action to alter it.  When you think about it, it is a disgrace that the two young ladies who will celebrate becoming Bat Mitzvah this Spring were born into an America in which we, the people, were aware of and distraught about the loss of life in our society because of the proliferation and accessibility of firearms, yet here it is 13 years later, and nothing has changed.  The killing remains ongoing and indiscriminate.  It is not enough for us to pray that the day will come when a child becomes a Bar or a Bat Mitzvah and does so in an America which knows no gun violence.  We have to work for that goal as well.  We have to make our elected officials understand that we, the citizens of America – that we, the potential victims of future gun violence in our country – will no longer tolerate their empty promises and gross inaction.  Together, may we create an America where we no longer fear that we or our children may be shot and killed simply because we were walking down the street or attending a worship service or going to a movie.