Yom Kippur 2004, Oct. 6, 2003
D'Var Torah

Every year, Yom Kippur sets before us a challenging set of readings and rituals, from the tale of the scapegoat to the public breast-beating, and plural, alphabetic confessions.

Though our rites are structured from the framework of worship in the ancient Temples, we barely evoke the drama and the intensity of their Yom Kippur rituals. These days, our prayers of the heart offer a quiet, inner drama. We appreciate that we are millennia beyond the custom of animal sacrifices, and we also are glad to eschew the use of the priestly intermediary to pray and confess for us.

However, one aspect of the day's liturgy may make some of us uncomfortable still. Rabbi Ismar Schorsch, chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary, teaches:
"What is striking about the confessions of Yom Kippur is that they are all formulated in the plural. By reciting them in unison as a faith community, we are spared individual humiliation. Yet for each of us, the words are highly personalized. In our private space, we confess to God alone. And what of the sins we did not commit? We assume a share of the guilt, "for all Jews are responsible for each other." As bystanders we are accomplices; our apathy and silence facilitated the malevolence of others. In a world awash with human evil, some are guilty, but all are implicated."

In this context, the juxtaposition of the day's confessional liturgy with the Torah reading recalling the Yom Kippur rituals of the High Priest, and the dramatic haftarah call of the prophet Isaiah, is noteworthy.
What teaching does the combination of the readings, and the day, offer?

Rabbi Michael Strassfeld writes: "Yom Kippur is supposed to lead from thought to deed – from looking at ourselves to transforming the way we act. The haftarah of Yom Kippur is a striking statement of the larger importance of the day and warns us against the danger of thinking that all this praying in and of itself is enough…. Personal change is to lead us to work for social justice in the world, not to an ascetic withdrawal from the impurities of the world." (The Jewish Holidays: A Guide and Commentary, p. 119)

The why thus becomes clear. The juxtaposition of the two readings, with their context on Yom Kippur, the day of cleansing, repenting, and turning towards the year prepared to face ourselves and each other with a clean slate makes sense. How to do more than talk the talk may still be murky.

There is a text in our mahzor on p. 15, in the introductory readings on teshuvah, drawn from the Talmud:
"Each one of us should always consider ourselves evenly balanced … if we perform one mitzvah we should be joyous, for we have tilted the scales towards righteousness. If we commit one sin, we should be remorseful, for we have tilted the scale toward sinfulness …. Rabbi Eleazar ben Rabbi Shimon says:
Inasmuch as the world is judged in accordance with the majority if its deeds, and we individuals are judged on accordance with our deeds, if we perform one mitzvah, happy are we, for we have tipped our own scales and the scales of the world toward merit …"
(Kedushin 40b)

Note the formulation "the scales of the world;" there are no individuals scales of the world, not your set or my set, just as there is not an individual vidui; we recite our confessions on Yom Kippur only in the plural. All actions are our actions. And all our actions affect the scales of the world.

The day and its rituals, the prayers and our Torah and prophetic reading, thus offer a beautiful Jewish antidote to the hopelessness and despair of the common lament – what can I do? What can one person do? How does the small speck of our lives stay afloat in the vast sea of humanity and history?

Like me, you have probably spent some time over the past year discussing any number of overwhelming subjects: impending war, the aftermath of war, the situation in the Middle East, the economic downturn in this country, the AIDS pandemic, world and local hunger and homelessness, and many others.

A colleague of mine lamented: " … we may have had relatively little opportunity to reflect spiritually or personally in the midst of multiple world crises. How do we understand times of turmoil in the Big Picture? Where does our own struggle for good fit in a world that seems to be moving to its own tune? Should we struggle against what is wrong in society or surrender to what is? How powerful are we to change the world? How do we unplug from the struggle in order to renew ourselves? How do we reenter? How do we sustain our souls for the duration?"

I found this teaching, hidden in today's haftarah, to remind me davka – in spite of everything, truly - that from today forth we can act, we must act, we can and must make a difference.

In Isaiah 58:10, we will read: vetafek lara'ev nafshekha venefesh na'anah tasbi'ah, vezarah bahoshekh orekha va'afelatekha katzohorayim. If you give of yourself to the hungry, fulfilling the needs of the poor – then shall your light shine in darkness.

Today's date is the 10th of Tishrey, the tenth day of the new year, 5764. The letters with which we write that number, tav-shin-sameh-dalet, add up to the sum of 764. One of the many ways that the art of gematria works, the practice of seeking meaning in the value Hebrew of words and names, is to find phrases in TaNaKH that equal the same sum.

In our verse, the words orekha va'afelatekha add up to the same sum. The phrase means "your light and your darkness;" in the context of the verse, they are posited as opposites. If you give of yourself to the hungry, and meet the needs of the poor, darkness becomes illuminated, filled with your light, and your darkness, your darkest times, shine with the brightness of noon.

Your light. Your darkness. The prophet here is talking about the impact on us, when we address the basic needs of those most lacking, in our midst.

I want to talk about two realms in which we can fulfill the prophet's call, today, right here, in our community, with exactly the resources that we most fully possess – ourselves.

Homelessness can seem an overwhelming problem. Many people wonder what one person, or one congregation can do to truly make a difference.

The Interfaith Hospitality Network enables religious congregations to meet the important basic needs of homeless families who represent the fastest growing segment of the homeless population. Nationally, more than half the guests in our Networks are children, and most of the children are less than six years old.

Families and children make up the majority of those seeking without shelter in our country. When you picture a typical homeless person, you may be inclined to see a single man or women, disheveled, perhaps looking unwell from the deleterious effects of substance abuse or alcohol addiction. He or she represents about 15% of the homeless population; of the vast majority that remains, 40% are children.

Last week, along with our member Elana Pressman, and several others, I met Marilyn Jordan and her baby Jacoy, current guests of the Northwest Philadelphia IHN. Members of one of 14 congregations in their network were caring her two older sons that evening. They would bring, or cook dinner for the boys, and for the two other families that were their guest for the week, and put them to bed in their dedicated space. Two other members would sleep over with the guests, making sure that the building and the guests were safe. In the morning, Marilyn and the boys would be joined for breakfast with other members, and then set off to school, work, or the day center where executive director Rachel Falcove heads a network of dedicated volunteers and board members in this 12-year old network.

Rachel herself started with IHN as a volunteer in her synagogue as a "sleeper" – she says she can sleep anywhere – and then became a board member. As a member of her congregation, she said found being an IHN volunteer a small and easy way for her to help address a big problem.

IHNetworks are housing that 85% of the homeless population that essentially have nowhere else to go, as families. Marilyn described her three nights in a shelter, her first three nights without a home of her own, after having fled from an abusive spouse, and stayed as long as she could in the living room of one of the boy's godmothers, herself raising four children. Actually, she didn't really didn't describe much of the experience, other than to relate the theft of whatever money she had, even though she was sleeping on it, under her pillow. She would only say that she would never bring her children there again.

Marilyn was looking forward to being interviewed for a transitional housing program, and to going back to school in January for her nursing degree. Among the tasks of a network director is marshalling the resources of the regional and federal programs and funding to move network guests into permanent, viable homes.

But the volunteers share the front lines with her. In fact, volunteers are the foundation of the Network. There are many ways that volunteers contribute, from shopping for staples to preparing a hot meal, tutoring a child, helping a parent write a resume, or staying overnight with guests. Network volunteers make a difference in the lives of families that have suffered the loss of their homes.

A Baltimore Interfaith Hospitality Network is already hard at work to develop a local congregational network. Together, with members of other faith communities heeding Isaiah's call, we can walk the walk.

The second possibility is represented out in the lobby by the grocery bags and envelopes next to them. For the seventh consecutive year, Reconstructionist, Reform and Conservative congregations, along with Hillel, are joining in an anti-hunger appeal called "The Corners of the Fields, " sponsored by MAZON: A Jewish Response to Hunger.

Both aspects of the campaign are critical. It is imperative that we give those in our community the food that they need to eat to alleviate their hunger pangs, which, unlike the ones we may be experiencing today, are not chosen. Yet Judaism also teaches that even greater than the mitzvah of giving to feed someone today is to give them the means to feed themselves for a lifetime. Through a gift of tzedakah to MAZON, you will be supporting programs that advocate against the causes of hunger in America.

In addition, MAZON gives grants to local agencies around the country, including, right here in Baltimore, the Center for Poverty Solutions, Jewish Family Services, Maryland Community Kitchen, Garden Harvest, and Meals on Wheels of Central Maryland, among others.

If you have not already done so, you can still take a bag home, fill it with non-perishable groceries, and bring it back to the synagogue during Sukkot. And this evening, after you break your fast, see that you help to break the fast of another by giving at least what you and your family might have eaten today in the form of a donation to MAZON.

(Continued)