“A JEWISH MAKEOVER”

Selichot Sermonette 5764


September 11, 2004




Rabbi Edward Paul Cohn
Temple Sinai
New Orleans, Louisiana






    
From our earliest days we are beset with questions.  It’s just a part of life, and its how we grow and learn about the world and our place in it.  Do you remember some of those first questions you and I were asked?  With the utmost of happy expectation, years and years later we then posed those same questions of our own little ones.  Let’s see if you’re still able to answer them:

What sound does the cow make?.... Moo
What does the dog say?.... Ruff
What does the sheep say?.... Baah

    Well, clearly your parents did a fine job with each one of you!

    Then, you know, what happens?  Life brings us to somewhat tougher questions:  Do we know our colors?  Have we mastered the shapes- circles, squares, triangles and rectangles?  Then, of course, there’s always that alphabet song and the ordeal of numbers.

What comes before seven and what comes after 10?

    The big day finally arrives when we are actually able to spell and write our names.  Of course, today, because of educational television and our hyper-anal parents who insist on registering their embryonic future infants in competitive college prep preschools, today’s students are way ahead of where you and I were at such tender ages.

    Now, it doesn’t take all that long before all of these basic questions begin to be transformed in awesome complexity.  But, (and here’s the change), by this time it is the child who is the interrogator and the befuddled parents who are left to either Google it or fake it!

Why is the sky blue?
How old is Mars anyway?
What did kill the Dinosaurs and when did they die?
How big is space and where is God in it?

    Children’s letters to God and their questions about the universe are the subject of any number of cute volumes.  While we are amused by the things which our children ask about God, we still feel somewhat haunted deep inside, by how little we “grownups” actually understand and know with a certainty.  Where God is concerned, we’re all pretty much children.

    But wait, I mustn’t forget the toughest setting for these questions:  it is during the televised news.  Instant and continuous cable reporting brings to our dinner table vivid photos from around the world or across the street of the latest horrors of aberrant human behavior or the devastation of natural calamity.  We can all but smell the death as it is so vividly documented on our television screens.  And our children are watching and they have questions ready for us, don’t they?  And we, we wonder how and what to respond.  QUESTIONS IN SEARCH OF AN ANSWER— that’s our theme.

    I have two quotes I’d like you to listen to carefully.  The first is by Rainer Maria Rilke.  And hers is the advice:

Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language.  Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given you now, because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

    Now the second is a quotation from David Roberts’ book titled The Grandeur and Misery of Man, in which he recalls:

Once I heard a man say: ‘I spent twenty years trying to come to terms with my doubts.  Then one day it dawned on me that I had better come to terms with my faith.  Now I have passed from the agony of the questions I cannot answer into the agony of answers I cannot escape.’

    On this Selichot eve it’s really amazing to me that I was able to run across two such quotations both of which urge the self same strategy toward living our lives:  we must persevere to live our way into the answers to life’s questions.  Those who insist upon a certain knowledge of the answers to life’s imponderables will miss out on the truest adventure life has to offer:  the search and the pilgrimage.
   
    The increasingly popular, and seemingly endless permutations on the theme of  “makeover shows” which assault the television networks night and day, seem to follow just that advice.  Have you noticed how they take what is and manage to dress it up or strip it down, but they make new whatever they are given.  Hair colors are changed.  Hair is cut.  Furniture is rearranged, landscape is transformed, sofas are reupholstered and chests of draws are fitted with new knobs.  But in the end, it is the old that is made new.

    Each of these shows, the queer eye for the straight folks, the straight eye for the queer folks, the merging of two combatant and equally tasteless styles for a future husband and wife, and on at and on seem to take this old formula, and of it make the same thing:  a merger, a compromise, an adjustment, a simplification, but some basics of the original are always stubbornly preserved.
  
    It seems to me, that that’s our job.  It seems to me, that for these High Holy Days to which we now enter in earnest and reverent atonement, our task is to reshape and to retune our lives, not by throwing away and discarding everything we’ve lived, taught, said, or done, but examining and improving the final statement and product.  It is adjustment to life, to which we are called and not its destruction.

    During these coming High Holy days you and I will be asking questions which call out for answers.  There are surely many answers possible for each of the questions we shall pose, and we’ll all be searching for the answers which most closely fit our individual mindset; our view of God’s world and our place within it.

I wonder to myself, does that mean that every answer will be equally correct?  I doubt it.  Some of the answers chosen— the violence and the terrorism, the judgmentalism and religious hypocrisy which so mar the world in which we find ourselves, invalidates the worth of those systems and individuals who adhere to them.  Some answers are unworthy of the questions which life presents.

    In the end what criteria should we choose then for determining just how appropriate or worthy our answers will be?  Perhaps the bottom line is how much peace and love and kindness will these answers bring into this world of such harshness and uncertainty.

    Let me close with this story.  

    The Babylonian Talmud relates that a Rabbi by the name of Beroka of Khurzistan used to frequent the marketplace where, the prophet Elijah often appeared to him.  Once he asked Elijah,

Is there anyone in this marketplace who will have a portion in the world to come?  Elijah replied, “No.”

    Just then, two men walked by, and, on seeing them, Elijah said to Rabbi Beroka, “Do you see those two?  They will have a place in the world to come”  Rabbi Beroka went over to immediately ask them, “What is your occupation?”  And the men answered, “We are jesters.  When we see people depressed, we cheer them up; and when we see two people quarreling, we work hard to establish peace between them.”

    Of all the people in the marketplace, only the jesters, the two who brought joy into others’ lives, would surely gain entry into the world to come.  Whatever answers we reach for those penetrating questions in life, during these High Holy Days and throughout all the years to come, may they be ones which will pass that very test: to bring hope where there is hopelessness, joy where there is despair and peace where there is misery.

    May you, dear ones be blessed in your searching and in your every finding this year, and in all the years to come.

Amen