Friday, October 11, 2019

Kol Nidre Sermon: Check the Box




Long ago,[i] in a land far away, there once lived a water carrier.  Each day, as the sun began to rise, the water carrier would leave home and travel down a long path to the riverbank.  Upon the water carrier’s broad shoulders, was a long pole, and on either side of the pole, were two buckets.  When the water carrier reached the river, the buckets were filled with cool refreshing water and placed back upon the pole.  The buckets and the pole were balanced on the water carrier’s shoulders for the long walk back home.

Now, there’s one thing you should know.  When the water carrier arrived back home, one bucket was full of water, while the other bucket was only half full.  This second bucket had a crack in it. Yet, the water carrier never changed the routine.  For days, weeks, years, the cracked bucket would arrive home half full.

As you might expect, the cracked bucket became ashamed and saddened by all of this.  “Excuse me” said the cracked bucket.  “I want to apologize and beg forgiveness.” 

“Why?” said the water carrier.  “What are you ashamed of?” 

“I haven’t done my full share!  You work so hard to bring water to town, yet because of my crack, you don’t arrive with the full amount of water.  Your job is harder because of me and my crack!”

The water carrier replied: “Tomorrow, when we begin our walk back home, I want you to look out at the right side of the path.”

The bucket agreed.  The next day, after the water carrier filled the buckets with water and began the slow climb back home, the cracked bucket looked out at the right side of the path, just as instructed.  And what was there was truly breathtaking: an incredible number of beautiful flowers.

The water carrier stopped in the middle of the walk home.  “Do you see all of these gorgeous flowers?  Did you notice that the flowers are only on your side of the path?  I have always known about your crack, and so I planted seeds there.  Every day as we walked back home, you watered these seeds, helping to bring forth those beautiful flowers.  It was your crack that allowed these flowers to flourish.  I need to thank you!  Thank you for being a cracked bucket!”

As the sun sets and Yom Kippur is upon us, we begin this annual day long feat of self-chastisement.  Over the next twenty-four hours, we will apologize, dozens of times, for our mistakes, transgressions, and sins.   We will beat ourselves up by pounding on our chests.  We will express remorse for all the times we missed the mark.  Let our Jewish guilt go into overdrive!

We are our harshest critics.  Most of us have unrealistically high standards for ourselves.  Either, we spend way too much time focusing on the cracks: the seeming flaws  or we attempt to emulate those that surround us, wishing away the cracks in order to become someone else.  It’s difficult when there are so many “perfect buckets” out there.

Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, the famous Hasidic Master, once taught, that we often give up hope because we look around and see our contemporaries, and imagine them to be far worthier than they in fact are.[ii]  That was true during the 18th century when the rebbe lived and even more so in our day, especially with the advent of Social Media.  We see pictures of perfection online: perfect smiles, perfectly dressed children, delicious meals, the incredible backdrop of an exotic location.  Everything online looks to be magical, fun, and easy.

Yet, no one, and I mean no one shares the pictures of the messy house, the lonely nights, the microwave dinners, or the latest arguments.  Very few of us share the battles with addiction, depression, sickness, abuse, or fear.  The worries, the challenges, the difficulties, are hidden away from public view.

We only see pictures of perfection.  The Social Justice pioneer, who can march at every rally, volunteer each night, work a full-time job, and be the perfect parent at home.  Reality is, as we know, quite different.  You might be the Social Justice Warrior, helping to change the world, but are barely keeping up at home.  You might be the perfect parent but are searching for sustenance that can only be found outside of family life.  It’s impossible to do everything.  No one is the “perfect bucket,” even if they appear so on Facebook.

On Yom Kippur, we must recognize the good we accomplished.  Too often, we focus on our failures and inadequacies, instead of our strengths.  Too often, we imagine that we are that much worse than everyone else.  Each of us, possesses great blessings alongside our cracks; it’s these blessings that often go unnoticed.  The cracked bucket couldn’t recognize its goodness without the help of a kind friend.  Alongside our water carriers, we too must shine a light on our entire being, the bad and the good.  On this Kol Nidre Night, we ask: Am I being my true self?

There’s the story of Rabbi Zusya, the Hasdidic teacher, who knew that he was about to die.  As his students gathered around his bed, the rabbi broke down into tears.  “Reb Zusya,” asked his students, “What’s wrong?”

“I had a dream,” he said, “where I learned of the question that would be asked of me when I die.”

The students were puzzled, “Reb Zusya, you are pious, a scholar, and so humble.  You have helped so many of us.  What question about your life could be so terrifying that you would be scared to answer?”

The rabbi replied, “I learned that I will NOT be asked, ‘Why weren’t you Moses leading your people out of slavery?’  For I am not Moses.  And I won’t be asked, ‘Why weren’t you Esther standing up to evil, to save your community.’  For I am not Esther.  And I won’t be asked, ‘Why weren’t you Abraham and Sarah willing to make a difficult journey?’  For I am not Abraham or Sarah.”

“No, the question that will be asked of me, the question that terrifies me is: ‘Zusya, why weren’t you Zusya?’”[iii]

Reb Zusya was a great rabbi.  Caring, kind, a good teacher.  He was beloved by his students and his community, yet something was missing.  Reb Zusya hid a part of himself from those that surrounded him.  He tried to be the perfect rabbi.  It was only on his death bed that he realized who he needed to be: himself.  It was in these final moments of life that he was able to share with his students who he truly was, his perceived imperfections and cracks.  Reb Zusya’s final lesson, is one of the only stories that we know about him today; it was his greatest teaching: Be yourself!  Recognize the good and the bad, the warts and the blessings.  But, most importantly. Be yourself!

As hard as it is to recognize our blessings, it’s even harder to accept our imperfections.  As Rabbi Ellen Lewis teaches: “Not perfect, but fully human: this is what God asks of us.  And, in response, this may be the best we can do: forgive ourselves for our yearnings and failings for being human [and] not God; [to] accept the imperfections, satisfactions, of being a person.”[iv]

On Yom Kippur, we aren’t ask to be perfect.  We aren’t ask to be God.  We are asked only to be human: to accept our entire selves, including the cracks, the challenges, and the perceived imperfections.  To be human, is to recognize our entire being, it’s to be us!

One person who recognized his humanity is Jason Kander.  You might have heard of Jason, who almost unseated Senator Roy Blunt in the 2016 election.  Jason is a rising political star, who served two terms in the Missouri state legislature and as Secretary of State all before the age of 36.  He is an Afghanistan Veteran; a progressive in a very conservative state. When President Obama was asked who he saw as the future of the Democratic Party, the first name out of his mouth was Jason Kander.  By all objective measure, things were going great for Jason.  His first book was a New York Times Bestseller, his non-profit “Let America Vote” was incredibly effective, and he was in the homestretch of a mayoral run for his hometown of Kansas City. 

To everyone outside his intimate circle, Jason’s life looked perfect.[v]  Yet, the truth was different.  It had been eleven years since he left Afghanistan as an Army Intelligence Officer and things just weren’t right.  He had uncharacteristic anger, paralyzing nightmares, paranoia, suicidal thoughts, and severe depression.  Jason went online to fill out the VA forms, but left the boxes unchecked – to scared to acknowledge his true symptoms.  Afraid of the stigma and what it could mean for his political career.

As Jason shares, “Instead of celebrating [these many] accomplishment[s], I found myself on the phone with the Veterans Crisis Line, tearfully conceding that, yes, I have had suicidal thoughts.  And it wasn’t the first time.  I’m done hiding this from myself and from the world.”[vi]

Jason’s campaign manager asked him: “Are you sure this is how you want to be remembered?”

Many politicians have grappled with the wounds of war, but Jason was one of the first to do so publicly, to share his PTSD and his depression openly.   By sharing his struggle with us all, by checking the box, Jason helped change the conversation around trauma and healing.  His story opened the door for veterans and many others get the help they need.  As Jason shares: “It’s not like it’s cured or ever goes away.  But you learn how to treat it and you make sure it’s no longer disruptive in your life.”

Jason Kander had a crack in his bucket.  He tried to run away.  He tried to pretend the crack wasn’t there, but it was.  He was terrified to share his PTSD because of the implied implications on his career.  Yet, Jason decided to check the box.  It took him years to do so, years of struggle and challenge to get the help he needed.  Yet, Jason recognized the crack for what it was, a piece of him.

Jason reminds us that some cracks travel with us our entire lifetime.  Some cracks can’t be fixed.  Some cracks continue to torment us years later.  But, we can acknowledge these cracks and get the help we need.  We can gain strength from each other.  We can feel a sense of healing.

During these High Holy Days, we pursue Cheshbon HaNefesh.  We take stock in ourselves and pursue a self-assessment of our souls.  We look closely at our blessings and our cracks.  We do our best, to be open and honest with ourselves, to pursue the support we need, and to live each day as only one person: as ourselves.

The cracked bucket was blind to its entire being.  Reb Zusya waited until his dying day to share his entire self.  It was Jason Kander, who, after years of challenge and struggle, was finally able to check the box. 

What boxes do you need to check?  What help and support do you need?  Are you being your true self?  Are you being YOU?

Today, on Yom Kippur we vow to live openly, honestly, and unabashedly as ourselves.  Today, on Yom Kippur we vow to live life to the fullest.   Today, on Yom Kippur we vow to check the box.  Shana Tova! 


[i] The Cracked Pot, based upon the telling of Rabbi Francine Green Roston in Three Times Chai: 54 Rabbis Tell Their Favorite Stories” ed. Laney Katz Becker 
[ii] Yom Kippur Readings ed. Rabbi Dov Peretz Elkins, p. 252
[iii] Based upon the telling found in Tales of Hasidim by Martin Buber
[iv] Mishakn HaNefesh, Yom Kippur, xxvii

No comments:

Post a Comment