blogs/rabbi-huberman

About five years ago, I received a call from someone who had heard me speak as a guest at a local church.

"I need forgiveness from a rabbi," he said. "I have just been diagnosed with cancer, and I'm sure I know why God is doing this to me."

"I'm so sorry," I replied, "but I'm not sure God works like that."

"No, listen to me!" he insisted. "I'm sure God is punishing me because recently I decided to stop singing in our church choir."

To which I responded, "This is very unsettling news, but I'm absolutely positive that God has better things to do than give you cancer."

As we continued our conversation, I eased his mind, that the Jewish god, and by extension, the god of Christianity, is not a god of punishment and retribution.

But as we spoke, I had to admit that so much of the Torah -- and our traditional understanding of God -- is based on a system of reward and punishment.

So what do you believe?

Has there been a time in your life when you've been certain that an illness, or a string of misfortune, is happening because of something you've done?

It's natural for each of us to search for a higher meaning when hardship and adversity come our way.

The idea of "reward and punishment" takes center stage this week as we read the Torah section called the Tochacha (the reproof), which outlines in graphic detail, the blessings and curses we can expect based on whether or not we follow God's commandments.

Our Sages have long been troubled by this section, so much so that centuries ago they instructed congregations to read this lengthy and terrifying passage (Deuteronomy 28:7-69) under their breaths, as quickly as possible.

I believe that, while the idea of reward and punishment may have played a role in keeping the Jewish people unified for two thousand years of exile, we need to turn away from this way of thinking, and focus Judaism on higher values: those of wisdom, kindness, and healing.

It's an important point as we enter the final week before the start of Rosh Hashanah.

For while the High Holiday liturgy inclines us towards begging God for another year of

life, perhaps we should come to realize that it is we, ourselves, who control our destinies.

If we hold on to grudges, if we are easy to anger, if we easily lose our patience, chances are we will face a year of stress, bitterness, and resentment.

But if we release the spiritual and physical shackles which bind us -- if we have the courage to say "I'm sorry," and reply with real forgiveness when someone apologizes to us, then our souls can be cleared to make room for a calmer and more centered year ahead.

About twenty five years ago, as president of a local community organization, I was forced to make a difficult decision which resulted in one board member resigning in protest.

I decided just before Rosh Hashanah to invite the fellow out to lunch, and see whether we could repair our friendship.

As we sat down at the table, the former board member said, "You can't fool me. You're just here to make things right before Rosh Hashanah. You just want God to let you off the hook."

To which I replied, "Actually, I'm here to see whether we can be friends again, and begin this year with a fresh slate. I don't have room in my soul to be at odds with you."

And with that, we began a frank discussion which ultimately led to a resolution.

Friends, we are currently in the middle of a special month in the Jewish calendar known as Elul. It's a time for us to begin arranging our spiritual house.

How did we do last year? What are our plans for next year?

When we enter synagogue in ten days, will it be a social event, or will it include a time for spiritual reflection? Will we have the courage to check our spiritual baggage at the door?

In ancient times, we believed that Rosh Hashanahlaunched a period of pleading for God to forgive our sins, and grant us life for another year.

But increasingly, Judaism has evolved towards an understanding that while there are some aspects of life which we can't control, there are many more which remain within our reach. 

Do we fill our hearts with anger, stress, blame, and resentment? Are we able to let go of those legendary grudges which weigh us down? Are we mindful of how we treat our bodies?

I do not believe that God punishes anyone with illness. But illness and challenge can

remind each of us of how precious and fleeting life is.

So, as we prepare to enter synagogue next week, let us begin thinking about how we can positively direct our future.

Is there one behavior, one grudge, one point of stress we need to let go of?

Most Monday afternoons, I drive to Queens and study with a Chabad rabbi whom I profoundly respect. I asked him recently, "What kind of spiritual work do you complete between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur?

And he replied, "Nothing. I'm done by the end of Elul.Why should I wait?"

Let's take a moment and consider one thing -- a small thing -- we can address from now until next Monday.

Is there an email we can write which begins with "I've been thinking about you, and how we can improve how things are between us. I want to wish you a Shanah Tovah - a happy New Year."

Yes, God created this world, and gave us everything that we need to physically survive. But as for the spiritual component of this world -- there is still so much to do.

It is in our hands.

For as a rabbi once reminded his students, in every failed relationship, within every grudge and every unsettling personal connection, there is only one constant character.

And that is you.

The journey to improvement begins now. Perhaps it never ends.

For I believe that it is not God who judges us. Rather, it is we who judge ourselves.

And, as the great Rabbi Hillel noted, "All the rest is commentary."

Shabbat Shalom. Shanah Tovah!

Rabbi Irwin Huberman