Last Minute Things
October 1, 2006
9 Tishri 5767
In just a few short hours Jerusalem will undergo one of those incredible transformations that mark its singularity as a city holy to the Jewish people. Sometime before sunset virtually all traffic will cease. Public transportation will come to a stop and there will be very few private vehicles presenting moving targets for the over-zealous young people who use rocks to enforce tradition. Yom Kippur—the White Fast—will be ushered in with families feasting in anticipation of twenty-seven hours of self-deprivation in fulfillment of Levitical statute.
Here in Israel, because our Jewish holy days are—by definition—national holidays, the atmosphere everywhere is charged with the spirit of Israel’s answer to America’s “holiday season.” People greet each other (even strangers and even on TV) with a “Shanah Tovah—Good Year,” and a “G’mar Hatimah Tovah—May you be sealed in the Book of Life for a year of blessing.” This past week the holy days have taken hold upon the homeland of the Jews and nothing important has any hope of being completed until “after the holy days,” meaning after Sukkot, not Yom Kippur! For religious Jews (from the most orthodox to we liberals) this is an intense period of spiritual reflection and celebration of God’s creation and beneficence, for secular Israelis this is the last major vacation period before Hanukah.
Right now, as I write these words, the streets of Jerusalem are busy with people scurrying around on last minute errands to complete the preparations for the Aruhat Mafseket—the meal beginning the fast—and the meal to break the fast which, in my family, we called the Kurtar Ta’anit—Ladino for breaking the fast. It is inevitable, plan as you might, you forget something: cheese for the borekas, pomegranate seeds for the salad, or, worst of all—dessert itself! Or, in the midst of your culinary endeavors you realize that you didn’t buy enough of something and, so, someone has to run out to the stores and shop before everything closes around midday.
A Half Hour Later…
Guess what—I had to interrupt the writing of this reflection because Wendy sent me on an errand. It seems that she forgot to put grapes and watermelons on the shopping list so I had to dash off to the greengrocer to pick them up. Derekh Beit Lehem (the ancient road to Bethlehem and our village main street) bore witness to the approaching advent of the holy day as fellow last-minute shoppers mingled with patrons at the cafes filling up on carbohydrates and liquids before tomorrow’s fast. So, believe me, I know whereof I wrote in the preceding paragraphs of this reflection.
I love this time of soul-savoring anticipation, as we make ready for the sacred day ahead. We feel it every Friday as we prepare for Shabbat; but this anticipation of Yom Kippur is all the more intense due to the particular sanctity of the Day of Atonement. Moreover, no one wants to be caught unprepared, as there is absolutely no chance to pick up a loaf of bread or an extra pastry (“just in case”) on Yom Kippur itself. No, there are no second chances if you missed something; all break fasts are final! This decisiveness of the culinary decree adds to the excitement, I think. But, it also brings a spiritual message—just like the Shofar blast on Rosh Hashanah beginning this season—we are reminded to wake up, take stock and make things right before it is too late. Let’s be honest, it is easy to deal with culinary shortcomings—so what, so we don’t have grapes and watermelon and have to make due with whatever else Wendy has prepared in abundance; but, it is not so easy to deal with our spiritual shortcomings. How do you make up for the lack of an ingredient in your character, or make do with the realization that things may be missing in your life?
The days between Rosh Hashanah are to be spent in spiritual inventory and our self-denial of food on Yom Kippur reminds us of our daily self-imposed denial of spiritual sustenance. Lest we assume that the Days of Awe are a kind of Hebraic Feast of Guilt, consider that they bring us the very positive message that we have the God-given capacity to make things right—not perfect but right—in our lives.
Part of our preparation for this spiritual fine-tuning is the tradition of seeking out people whom we’ve wronged during the past year and asking their forgiveness. And, of course, there is its corollary in the mitzvah of our forgiving others (further reminding that it is much easier to ask forgives for wrongs that we have committed than it is to forgive the wrongs that others have done to us). We might add to this the granting of forgiveness to ourselves for those things that—despite our best and truest efforts—we are incapable of changing. Thus we have a Jewish tradition of exchanging the most precious of gifts during the holy days—forgiveness. Don’t wait until it is too late.
And so, in the spirit of the “holy day season,” I wish for all of you that this year be one of much blessing for and from you. G’mar Hatimah Tovah, and…
Shalom from Jerusalem.
9 Tishri 5767
In just a few short hours Jerusalem will undergo one of those incredible transformations that mark its singularity as a city holy to the Jewish people. Sometime before sunset virtually all traffic will cease. Public transportation will come to a stop and there will be very few private vehicles presenting moving targets for the over-zealous young people who use rocks to enforce tradition. Yom Kippur—the White Fast—will be ushered in with families feasting in anticipation of twenty-seven hours of self-deprivation in fulfillment of Levitical statute.
Here in Israel, because our Jewish holy days are—by definition—national holidays, the atmosphere everywhere is charged with the spirit of Israel’s answer to America’s “holiday season.” People greet each other (even strangers and even on TV) with a “Shanah Tovah—Good Year,” and a “G’mar Hatimah Tovah—May you be sealed in the Book of Life for a year of blessing.” This past week the holy days have taken hold upon the homeland of the Jews and nothing important has any hope of being completed until “after the holy days,” meaning after Sukkot, not Yom Kippur! For religious Jews (from the most orthodox to we liberals) this is an intense period of spiritual reflection and celebration of God’s creation and beneficence, for secular Israelis this is the last major vacation period before Hanukah.
Right now, as I write these words, the streets of Jerusalem are busy with people scurrying around on last minute errands to complete the preparations for the Aruhat Mafseket—the meal beginning the fast—and the meal to break the fast which, in my family, we called the Kurtar Ta’anit—Ladino for breaking the fast. It is inevitable, plan as you might, you forget something: cheese for the borekas, pomegranate seeds for the salad, or, worst of all—dessert itself! Or, in the midst of your culinary endeavors you realize that you didn’t buy enough of something and, so, someone has to run out to the stores and shop before everything closes around midday.
A Half Hour Later…
Guess what—I had to interrupt the writing of this reflection because Wendy sent me on an errand. It seems that she forgot to put grapes and watermelons on the shopping list so I had to dash off to the greengrocer to pick them up. Derekh Beit Lehem (the ancient road to Bethlehem and our village main street) bore witness to the approaching advent of the holy day as fellow last-minute shoppers mingled with patrons at the cafes filling up on carbohydrates and liquids before tomorrow’s fast. So, believe me, I know whereof I wrote in the preceding paragraphs of this reflection.
I love this time of soul-savoring anticipation, as we make ready for the sacred day ahead. We feel it every Friday as we prepare for Shabbat; but this anticipation of Yom Kippur is all the more intense due to the particular sanctity of the Day of Atonement. Moreover, no one wants to be caught unprepared, as there is absolutely no chance to pick up a loaf of bread or an extra pastry (“just in case”) on Yom Kippur itself. No, there are no second chances if you missed something; all break fasts are final! This decisiveness of the culinary decree adds to the excitement, I think. But, it also brings a spiritual message—just like the Shofar blast on Rosh Hashanah beginning this season—we are reminded to wake up, take stock and make things right before it is too late. Let’s be honest, it is easy to deal with culinary shortcomings—so what, so we don’t have grapes and watermelon and have to make due with whatever else Wendy has prepared in abundance; but, it is not so easy to deal with our spiritual shortcomings. How do you make up for the lack of an ingredient in your character, or make do with the realization that things may be missing in your life?
The days between Rosh Hashanah are to be spent in spiritual inventory and our self-denial of food on Yom Kippur reminds us of our daily self-imposed denial of spiritual sustenance. Lest we assume that the Days of Awe are a kind of Hebraic Feast of Guilt, consider that they bring us the very positive message that we have the God-given capacity to make things right—not perfect but right—in our lives.
Part of our preparation for this spiritual fine-tuning is the tradition of seeking out people whom we’ve wronged during the past year and asking their forgiveness. And, of course, there is its corollary in the mitzvah of our forgiving others (further reminding that it is much easier to ask forgives for wrongs that we have committed than it is to forgive the wrongs that others have done to us). We might add to this the granting of forgiveness to ourselves for those things that—despite our best and truest efforts—we are incapable of changing. Thus we have a Jewish tradition of exchanging the most precious of gifts during the holy days—forgiveness. Don’t wait until it is too late.
And so, in the spirit of the “holy day season,” I wish for all of you that this year be one of much blessing for and from you. G’mar Hatimah Tovah, and…
Shalom from Jerusalem.
posted by RSJD at 12:35 PM
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