Gathering once again in this beautiful Sanctuary, in this Beit Kneset, a house of assembly for so many years and a synagogue that has embraced so many families, is always, for me, and I believe for all of us, a very special moment.
Rosh Hashanah is many people such a moment. It’s that time when we pause, no matter what. We don’t allow ourselves to continue with our routines. It seems to be much more than Shabbat, but slightly less than Yom Kippur. In fact, some of you I haven’t seen since last year.
The High Holidays, or Yamim Noraim — the “Days of Awe,” as they are called in Hebrew, because of the emotional weight of introspection and the self-assessment they require — always summon us. We are guided by a special and precise liturgy, much of which was not part of the original prayers but was composed as Piyyutim, liturgical compositions dating back to the late Middle Ages.
The liturgical hymn Unetane Tokef, which introduces the Kedusha during the repetition of the Amidah in the Musaf prayers of these days, delves deeply into the theme of reviewing our existence and its destiny.
In this prayer, man is described as coming from dust and returning to dust at the end. Man is compared to a broken shard, dry grass, a withered flower, a passing shadow, a fleeting cloud, a blowing wind, scattered dust, and a vanishing dream.
The poet uses eight comparisons to illustrate the fleeting nature of human life and its value. Yom Kippur humbles the value of man in contrast to the supreme greatness of the Lord of the Universe.
However, despite everything, our prayer book teaches us that we can change. A broken shard cannot be restored, yet we can change our ways. A scribe cannot choose which drop of ink will be part of the Divine Names and which will end up on the cleaning cloth. But we are capable of choosing what to do with our gift of life.
Will we make our lives a blessing or a curse?
The Magid of Kamnitz shared the following parable:
At an important exhibition in a large museum in Paris, an impressive wooden cabinet was on display, the handiwork of a master craftsman. It contained several niches and compartments, shelves, and rotating or removable drawers. It could store silverware, gold, diamonds, and valuable documents. This cabinet became the talk of the exhibition, and the master craftsman who made it was awarded a gold medal in the competition that took place there.
A very wealthy man from the royal city of Vienna bought this cabinet for a large sum of money. He placed it in his palace and boasted about it to everyone. However, the wheel of fortune turns in life, and this wealthy man lost all his wealth. All his possessions were sold to cover his debts. No seller or buyer realized the quality of the cabinet, and it was sold as junk and purchased by a poor shoemaker for a pittance.
The shoemaker placed his scraps of leather in the space designed for glassware. He put nails in the drawers meant for silver and gold objects. He placed wax on the velvet-covered shelves.
One day, the master craftsman who had made the cabinet visited Vienna
As he toured the city, the sole of his shoe came apart. He looked for a shoemaker to mend his shoe and found the shop of the aforementioned shoemaker.
While the shoemaker repaired the shoe, the craftsman looked around and saw the cabinet that had once been so beautiful. It stood in a corner, leaning sideways because it was missing a foot. Many decorations were also missing, and the wood was scratched, stained, and covered in dust.
The craftsman fainted. The shoemaker called passersby to help revive him, and when he came to, he wept. “Look at what they’ve done to my cabinet,” he cried bitterly. How could he not weep at the sight of what had become of his masterpiece?
The Magid of Kamenitz concluded: The Lord created man with wisdom and gave his soul various sections, compartments, and hidden drawers.
A section for a measure of modesty. A drawer for wisdom. A shelf for holiness. But there is a man who chooses to store pride in the space meant for modesty. Another stores foolishness in the drawer meant for wisdom. A third, alas, stores worn shoes on the shelf of sanctity.
Man’s spiritual existence is shaped by his own choices. He will be the one to choose what to store in his soul.
I wouldn’t want to delve into something as painful as the war Israel is currently fighting. But in these moments of reflection and reassessment of our values, it’s important to bring it up.
I see many people around us, both Jews and non-Jews, who question Israel’s right to defend itself. I’ve faced criticism for supporting Israel—not Netanyahu’s government, but the State of Israel. Criticism, even though for over a year now, northern Israel has been bombarded with thousands of attacks from drones, missiles, and various assaults on the safety of Israeli citizens.
Criticism, even though just in the last month, these attacks have multiplied further, with the Houthis and Iran adding to this escalation of violence.
It seems that even at this moment, when the survival of our Jewish Home in the world is clearly at stake, people think it’s more important to measure their words than to stand up and defend the State that has always been and will always be there, supporting, defending, and sheltering anyone from the Jewish People who needs it.
There is a simple and beautiful Hasidic tale that goes like this:
There was a man who was so incredibly forgetful that every morning, when getting dressed, he couldn’t remember where he had left his clothes. It took him a long time to leave his house because he couldn’t get ready quickly.
This man came up with an idea that seemed fantastic to him. He wrote down on a piece of paper where he had left each of his garments.
The next morning, he simply took the paper and read: The socks are here, the pants are there, the keys are hanging over there… and so on with each piece of clothing.
Once he was fully dressed and ready to leave the house, the most important question of all came to his mind: Where am I? He knew perfectly well where each part of his attire was, but he didn’t know where to find himself.
I propose that during these High Holidays, you set aside the daily questions for just a moment. I propose you put aside the questions that push you to achieve personal dreams and projects. I suggest setting aside the worries about providing for your loved ones and more.
I propose you ask yourself the one question that might be missing: Where are you standing in your life, in your society, in your congregation, among your People?
Let us use these High Holidays to place in each compartment of our souls, of ourselves, a little bit of those things that allow us to improve our lives, our existence, and the lives of everyone around us.
In these Yamim Noraim, more difficult than in other years, when the existence and survival of the State of Israel and the People of Israel as a whole are once again at risk, we ask You, God, to grant us the capacity for reflection and teshuva so that we may once again take our rightful place within our People, within our society, and within our Community.
In these Yamim Noraim, more terrible than in other years, when the existence and survival of the State of Israel and the People of Israel are once again at risk, we ask You, God, to grant us the capacity for reflection and teshuvah, so that we may return to occupy and fulfill the role we must within our People, within our society, and within our Community.
May we be blessed with understanding and know how to fill our spiritual cells with virtue!
Le Shana Tova Tikatevu ve Techatemu
May we be inscribed and sealed for a good life!
Rabbi Gustavo Geier