Return Again

Each year at this time, I join those who celebrate Jewish holidays in honoring a turning of the calendar page into a New Year. This evening, as I am writing this piece, we will be immersing ourselves in the beginning of the 10 Days of Awe that commences with Rosh Hashanah and completes with Yom Kippur. In my childhood, it meant getting dressed up in fancy clothes, patent leather shoes and walking the mile or so to synagogue to sit in services with my parents and sister. I knew the prayers by heart but something about some of them didn’t ring true for me. As part of the ritual, we ask to be written into The Book of Life for a sweet new year. The premise was that in order to do so, we had to be on our best behavior. Even as I child, it felt too quid pro quo for me. I questioned if it meant that if people died or experienced some other misfortune, that meant that they were bad. I saw that people who did bad things, lived and prospered and sometimes kind and loving people got ill or left the planet unexpectedly. My parents, who didn’t believe in the literal interpretation of our faith, explained that it was a call to be kind and loving and generous. They modeled that all year long, not just in anticipation of the Big Event.

According to the Hebrew calendar, we are moving from the year 5782 to 5783. No ball drop in Times Square. Apples dipped in honey to symbolize the sweetness we wish for ourselves and each other. We engage in a ritual called Tashlich, or ‘casting off bread upon the waters,’ in which we toss pieces of bread into a moving body of water to let go of what we wish we had done differently in the year that is passing. We offer and ask for forgiveness for anything we might have done, whether intentional or unintentional that caused harm.

I have long since stopped attending formal services and instead, create my own rituals. One is reading from the prayer book that I have from the early 1990s when my husband and I belonged to a Reconstructionist synagogue in Kendall, Florida called Temple Beth Or. Rabbi Rami Shapiro led services there and it was his focus on the full inclusivity of women in Jewish life unlike the Judaism of my childhood when women were neither ordained as Rabbis nor counted in the minyan (a quorum of 10 required to recite certain prayers), that led me back to the beautiful practices that I had missed. The Judaism in my childhood home, did reflect that egalitarianism that I treasured. When women were not permitted to wear a tallis (prayer shawl), I would sit next to my father and he would wrap one side of it around me.

I see Judaism in a far different light than I did when I was young. Now that I am an elder (about to turn 64 in a few weeks), I embrace the rich traditions and create my own that have an interfaith flavor. I take my inventory every day (as is done in Step 4 in the 12 step program), I do my best to let go of resentments and anger. I commune with the God of my understanding and see no separation between the ‘spiritual’ and the ‘earthly’. Love is my religion and God is too vast to fit into a box.

We speak about the concept of Teshuvah or turning over, such as turning over a new leaf. In my mind, it is never too early or too late. Each moment beckons me to make positive change. Repenting is part of it. When I can take a step back and ask, with a fresh perspective, what I could have done differently then and then do it now, I feel grateful for that second chance. Repenting isn’t merely apologizing, but making amends for acts committed that I regret and then, not repeating them.

One of my favorite readings from the prayer book I mentioned earlier was about the founder of Chassidic Judaism, called The Baal Shem Tov.

“The Baal Shem Tov once said,” The first time an event occurs in nature, it is called a miracle; later it comes to seem natural and is taken for granted.”

“Let your prayer and service be a miracle each day, keeping you from taking for granted that which is in fact, so full of wonder. Only such prayer performed from the heart with the enthusiasm of fresh wonder is acceptable, for only such prayer will open the eye to the extraordinary hidden in the heart of the ordinary.”