In One Word: Good. In Two Words: Not Good (Rosh HaShanah 5786)

In One Word: Good. In Two Words: Not Good
Rabbi Maurice Salth, Rosh HaShanah 5786
Dedicated to Murray Beckerman zichrono livracha and Rabbi Aaron David Panken zecher tzadik livracha

It’s Rosh Hashanah morning. Two friends, Steve and Danny, see each other when they arrive at the sanctuary.

As they walk down the aisle to their sections Steve pats Danny on the back and says, “Danny, good yuntif, how are things?”

Danny answers: “In a word, good….In two words…not good!’”

For many of us throughout this past year, myself included, we can relate to Danny. In a word, things are “good”. We may enjoy the support of family, the fortune of good health, a nice place to live, income, the chance to travel and enjoy good food. All blessings for which we feel grateful – things are truly “good!”

And yet, for many of us, things are “not good.” We may be facing the reality that we or someone we love is struggling with illness or addiction or some other life challenge – be it adolescence, finding a career that fits, an apartment that’s affordable.

We may be troubled by the news of our day. We are concerned with the upcoming mayoral election, the rise in antisemitism and assaults on Jews here and abroad, the safety of our brothers and sisters in Israel.

We yearn for the release of the hostages. We are worried for our neighbors being taken into detention and denied their right to appeal their cases. We are pained by the suffering of civilians in Gaza. The list goes on and on. The heaviness factor – the oy quotient in our city, nation and planet – seems to be higher than ever before.

We are wrestling with this dichotomy, feeling fortunate for our many blessings and weighed down as we grapple with very real problems.

It is a lot.

This morning as we enter into Rosh Hashanah, the dawn of a new Jewish year with both blessing and much difficulty, I wish I could share some easy Jewish solution for the tumult in our lives, some instant remedy, a Hebrew incantation perhaps, a secret Angela Warnick Buchdahl matzah ball soup recipe that with just one slurp, would make things better.

Sadly, our Jewish tradition does not have a simple, “just add water” method for finding our way through turbulent times. Although I do hear Rabbi Buchdahl’s soup is exceptional and that if you ask her, the recipe will be yours. Thank you, rabbi.

What we Jews do have are approaches to processing and responding to life’s inevitable demands. And these are particularly helpful when the world is tough and complex. This morning, I want to highlight one of these responses: prayer in community.

I understand, it may seem cliche for one of your rabbis to encourage prayer in community on Rosh Hashanah. I can hear it now, “Jill, what did the rabbi talk about in his New Year sermon?” “The rabbi? He said we should come to shul and pray. Oy Vei!”

But hear me out.

It’s important to remember that Jewish prayer takes a variety of forms. There are prayers that are scripted and prayers we author in the moment. I want to focus on the individual prayers each of us design and how they can help us enhance what is good and navigate through what is not good. The intent of Jewish worship is to help us pray these personal prayers.

Divine Intervention

I recently met with a congregant who gave me permission to share his story.

He told of a time when he prayed to God for a medical miracle, for his wife’s cancer to be cured. This version of prayer, to God, for something that seems impossible, is also seen in our earliest texts, such as the Hannah story from our Bible, the one so movingly interpreted by Mindy this morning.

Hannah’s prayer, Mindy’s father’s prayer and the congregant who prayed for his wife are in the category of divine intervention. And while we know divine intervention may not occur, we still utter these prayers. We are undeterred. We find comfort in asking and aspiring for a miracle.

I once asked my father Irving, of blessed memory, what he wrote on a note he placed in the Western Wall in Jerusalem. He answered: “I always write the same thing, I pray for world peace.” The younger version of me, I’m embarrassed to say, found this to be ridiculous.

Overtime, I’ve changed and now whenever I am at The Wall, it is “world peace” that I write upon at least one of the notes I place into the ancient Kotel’s crevasses.

For many of us, there is a place for this type of prayer.

Personal Intention

There are other forms of prayer, where we are primarily speaking to ourselves.

Some call this meditation, others setting an intention – whatever we call it and whether or not we include God in our script, we Jews have been using these methods for ages in order to process life and effect positive change.

In preparation for this sermon, I asked congregants what they pray for during services. Thank you to all who gave me permission to share your answers.

One of you said: “I express my gratitude for my children, grandchildren, friends and my health and home.”

Another: “I take time to grieve the death of my mom, sometimes I even talk to her.”

A person told me: “I pray for my own mental health.”

“I pray for the strength to make it through each day, despite increasing pain.”

“My prayers focus on whatever is troubling me.”

And one of shared with me: “I use this time each week to thank God for the blessing of finding and marrying my wife.”

It turns out we Jews have been asking each other for centuries, respectfully, what are you silently praying for?

Seventeen hundred years ago, one man’s person prayer was so moving to the rabbis of the Talmud[1] that it was eventually codified. It’s still in our prayerbook; known by its first words in Hebrew Elohai N’tzor. This prayer has stood the test of time because it serves as a guide. If you don’t know how to start your own prayer, consider using this one, which reads:

My God, guard my speech from evil and my lips from deception.

Before those who slander me, I will hold my tongue; I will practice humility.

Open my heart to Your Torah, that I may pursue Your mitzvot.

At its essence, this prayer implores us:

First, to use our own power for good.

Second, to avoid being consumed by the negativity and ordeals surrounding us; and

Finally, to keep our hearts open, especially to the love, kindness and empathy that are central to Judaism.

Any and all of these are worthy options for contemplation in our own private prayers.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel taught: “Prayer may not bring water to parched fields or mend a broken bridge or rebuild a ruined city, but prayer can water an arid soul, mend a broken heart and rebuild a weakened will[2].”

Rosh Hashanah provides us time to reflect and craft our own personal prayers. As we do, let us be gentle with ourselves and give each other permission to explore, to fumble, to practice meditating and setting intentions; And to use prayer to best access the power of the “good” in our lives and traverse through the “not good”.

Prayer in the Context of Community

This new year’s morning I also want to also highlight an essential aspect of Jewish prayer – a key ingredient to our secret sauce - we pray together.

While some Jewish prayer can take place in isolation, Jewish tradition has done all it can to require us to be together for prayer. We take this seriously. Look at all of us here today. Some of us have experienced this dynamic face to face, approached by a fellow Jew desperate to have us help make a prayer minyan. Traditionally, some prayers, such as the Barchu and Mourner’s Kaddish can only be said with a minyan present.

I want to be clear that all of us joining this service through JBS and our live streaming are also in this sanctuary alongside all of us sitting in the pews. We feel your presence and I know you feel ours. Together, we have made this a minyan. Perhaps the world’s largest Rosh Hashanah minyan? We have made this special communal prayer service possible.

So much is happening during our communal worship time. We feel the energy and chemistry as we sing Shema, sound the shofar, hear the cantor hit the highest of notes, pound our chests and pour out prayers from within our hearts. We are also inspiring each other, celebrating each other’s joys, mourning our losses and striving to attend to the hardships among us. All this occurs from the moment we sign on to the live stream and walk into our sanctuary.

The founders of this congregation, the women and men who built this building, like us, were also experiencing the “good” and the “not good”.

On the one hand they were living out the promise of America, a new nation less than 100 years old. On the other hand, they were being banned from certain jobs and universities and being denied medical care, just because they were Jews.

What did they do?

They preserved, individually and together.

They constructed this remarkable synagogue and opened its doors in 1872, fourteen years before the Statue of Liberty was built! They prioritized hard work and education. They built businesses and found ways to take care of each other.

Proof of this is in the entrance alcove to our sanctuary where you can find two original large tzedakah boxes. Look for the them next time you are in the foyer - one has the words inscribed upon it: “Charity For The Orphans” and the other “Charity For Mount Sinai Hospital.”

When the larger society was not responding to the needs of the Jews, our Jews, decided to take care of themselves.

They came together, pitched in emotionally and financially, and found solutions to the antisemitism they faced.

Our founders continue to teach us that when we gather in community to pray, we can find ways to water parched fields, mend bridges that are broken and build orphanages and hospitals.

Throughout the past year our clergy have tackled our most pressing issues; speaking about Israel, the plight of the hostages and murderous attacks on Jews in Washington DC and Boulder.

We have given sermons about reducing gun violence, the Jewish value of engaging with difficult history and responding to hunger in Gaza. And we welcomed with warm embrace leaders of other faiths who came to support us in the wake of rising antisemitism. And so much more.

Our prayers and sermons have been complemented by our work with you in our children’s schools and universities, in your companies and the larger world around us. This sacred work will continue into this new Jewish year and I urge you to join us for it all.

We need each other. We need to stick together as we pray, lift each other up, tackle the dilemmas we face and inspire each other.

This spring, members Louisa and Michael, welcomed their first child into the world. They named him Murray Arthur, in honor of their grandfathers of blessed memory.

Three days after Murray’s birth, Murray Beckerman died at age one hundred. This Murray was our beloved longtime member. And this Rosh Hashanah is the first in more than fifty without Murray sitting right here in his section.

Through the synagogue the parents of baby Murray learned of Murray Beckerman’s wonderful life; his devotion to his family and Central Synagogue, his World War II service and distinguished professional career.

And at their baby’s naming, they invoked Murray Beckerman’s name.

They shared with their baby and all gathered, that Murray Beckerman was a member of little Murray’s synagogue and that Murray Beckerman had inspired them.

They told their baby that one day they hoped Murray Beckerman would inspire him to live a life filled with deep connection to family, synagogue community, meaningful service and purpose. These new parents also shared their wish that the elder Murray’s soul would rest even more at peace knowing a new Murray had arrived here at Central.

This is one extraordinary story of inspiration. Everyday this community is supporting each other, sometimes publicly, and often in quiet, tender moments.

That this is occurring in the context of our communal prayers on Shabbat and holy days, is not a coincidence, it is in fact, a fundamental way we Jews have remained strong.

I know those in our pews today are well aware of this as some of you are sitting in the same sections that generations of your family have sat.

All along the way you have kevlled as new family members have arrived and taken their place in the Jewish community; and you have also felt pride and have been stirred, as have all of us, by the youth co-leading our services, like we saw today, chanting the Torah with such ruach and poise.

We take strength and inspiration from each other – a core attribute of Jewish life that has always been important, during both happy and difficult times.

A new year has begun.

As we go forward, let us stick together, pray together and celebrate as well as face our challenges together.

Let our prayers and actions give us the strength and courage to address all that is “not good” and muster the internal will to bring more “good” and blessing into our world.

Shanah Tovah.

[1] Babylonian Talmud, B’rachot 17a

[2] Mishkan T’filiah prayerbook, p. 47 Abraham Joshua Heschel, adapted