Where are you?
Rosh Hashanah 5762 Sermon by Rabbi Julie Schwartz
There they are, huddling in the shadows of the largest trees in the garden. They are shivering from the new experience of fear. Adam and Eve, the first man and woman, have just eaten from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. They have realized that they are naked and sew clothing to cover themselves. And then, filled with shame, another new emotion, they have hidden in the garden. Suddenly they hear the voice of God travelling in the place that had been paradise for them. Filled with panic, they know that they have broken the only law which God had given them. Let me repeat, they have broken the one and only law which God had given to them.
And God's voice calls out in the garden with the first question ever asked to humankind,
"Ayyekah?" Ayyekah, asks God. "Where are You?"
"Where are You?" God, who knows everything and who surely knows already that Adam and Eve have sinned, have already disregarded the Divine decree and doomed themselves to banishment from the glorious Eden, this God asks this rather simple and seemingly unnecessary question. Surely God know exactly where the couple is hiding, surely there are many other things which God could choose to ask. Surely God could have begun this most awesome of conversations in many other ways.
Ayyekah, God asks. Where are You? And it is this question, this first question that becomes the eternal question for us from God. All people must face this question as each of us follows in the footsteps of Adam and Eve and breaks law after law, commits sin after sin. Here, in our sanctuary, we hide this evening, having realized that we too cannot fully cover up our iniquity, and now we too are asked by God, Ayyekah, Where are You?
Oh to have Mapquest at a time like this! When God asked a question this important, wouldn't it be best to have rather precise and appropriate answer!
Of course, God knew the exact location of Adam and Eve and ours as well. Rather God asked of them and now of us, the existential question. Now that you have done this wrong thing, where are you. How far away have you already banished yourselves? Traditionally, Rosh Hashanah is the time when we attentively and intentionally focus of the eternal question of Ayekah. We attempt to understand where we are on our life's path, how far off track we have gone, and the actions that we will need to take in order to literally get back of track. Using the imagery of the holiday, we do get a fresh page in the book of life but the volumes of previous years remain on the shelf and contribute to the ways that this new page will begin. This evening is the first call to action and it will followed by tomorrow's shofar signals which again attempt to wake us up to God's stern questioning. Where are you on the road which you were commanded to walk from the moment of your birth? During Rosh Hashanah, we work to determine our life's progress and find new strength for its process. This Rosh Hashanah, the question that God asks each of us is echoed by our questioning of God. With chutzpah created by the cries of the trapped and the wailing of newly bereaved, with chutzpah which now feels acceptable, we ask God the questioner, the very same question. You ask us God, ayyekah, Well we ask you ayyekah? Note that I do not believe that the question is ever: why did you make this happen God, why did you cause this God - for I most strongly believe that People let this happen not God. But we still must cry out with questions to God because God cries out with questions to us.
We had agreed over the years following the shoah as earlier generations of Jews had also, to put that question down, to allow it to remain a quiet, nagging concern. Asking that question seemed only to sap us of our strength for existence. And for the past fifty some years, we stopped asking God ayyekah because of the triumph of the state of Israel. While having Israel was no excuse, no justification for the holocaust, like children quieted by their favorite treats, we were able to feel so fortunate by the establishment of the state of Israel that we focussed less on asking the question ayyekah God.
But those who have experienced their personal tragedies, those who have borne the pain of illnesses, of life's unkindnesses, of unnecessary losses, such people at such times have quietly asked a personal question of God, Ayyekah, where are you God, where are you as I suffer. Often these questioners felt so very guilty about their questions and they stifled them with fear of being rebuked. Others felt unable to even ask the question and fell silent.
And now as we continue to suffer along side our beloved Israel, and especially as we suffer the pain of our fellow Americans, we are emboldened again to ask, Ayyekah.
If You are in the position to ask us that question God, as we are judged during this holy day period then we, your creatures, created in your image with the gift of critical thinking which you implanted within us, we can turn the question back to you. As you decide whether or not you will give us another year, another new year on this birthday of the world, well we decide also, will we give you another year? Can we give you another year?
What an absurd position for us all to be in. The judged are also judging. The judge of all the world has been called to task. How do we go on? Can we find a fresh start together? Can we find enough faith in the future to accept God's rule over us, even when we are disappointed in the ruler?
So the question now becomes more complicated. In order to honestly focus on our own lives and to take existential stock, we also look at our understanding of God so that can feel that this personal assessment has an ultimate meaning. And for me, this requires a very different way to experience God and our relationship with the Divine Judge.
My search for another way to relate to God leads me back to a wonderful psychological concept that I lean upon often as a mother and just as often by extension, as a rabbi. That is the idea of the "good enough mother." The theory is that there are essentially three styles of mothering, one is so lacking in connection or care for the newborn child that the baby is obviously harmed by this lack of attention and love. The second way of relating is so intensely connected and focussed that the mother's eyes do not even leave the baby for a moment. This is the mother who never lets her baby totter as he begins to toddle nor lets her baby cry even a moment from pain or frustration. While this picture is just beautiful, it too ultimately damages a child. This baby does not even have even space to try or to realize that the world is bigger than me or that I can tolerate a little pain or inconvenience or frustration. This baby too is harmed by his mother, this time the too good mother. The third way of mothering is the way that is best and that all of us parents, mothers and fathers, need to work toward and accept. That is the good enough mother, this individual makes a strong connection with the baby, does her best to limit the pain and moments of frustration as the baby develops but naturally, humanly, does not always work well with the baby. She disconnects at times, sometimes intentionally. She lets the baby trip, sometimes because she has turned away to take care of her own needs. She is there caring but she is not perfect. She is just good enough. And just good enough is actually just what the developing baby needs. I struggle to hit that base line of good enough, often enough. It keeps me sane and it keeps me accepting of my human limitations.
Would it be tolerable for us to see God as a "good enough God?" Not to be overwhelmed by teachings that God is omnipotent and perfect but to see God as just good enough, as a creator who, by allowing us to become partners in the work of the world, has given over some of that power? For us to develop, God cannot be right here, taking away all pain and fixing the sometimes horrific messes that we have made. But a good enough God is still in relationship with us, still loving us, still our creator and still able to ask us that stern question, Ayyekah? And just like with the good enough parent, the Good enough God is ultimately what we need most - not necesssarily what we might wish for when we are feeling quite vulnerable and sad but a God who enables us to grow. This is related as well to the Kabbalistic concept of tzimtzum, of God needing to contract the Divine presence and the Divine power in order to allow for human presence and development.
Can we believe in, love, worship, serve, learn from, relate to, and have faith in a God who is not always present when we are calling? Can we accept a judge who may not meet our own standards for justice? Can we pray to God and imagine that God needs our prayer as much as we need God's answer?
In fact, throughout Jewish history, rabbis have suggested that the omnipotent God is actually dependent upon us. Which of course means that even the most traditional texts have some awareness that the idea of omnipotence is not truly meaningful. Rather we read in many different places stories which speak of God's need for our prayer, God's reliance upon our deeds, and God's hunger, yearning for our love. The Sh'ma prayer itself becomes a source for this teaching. In the Torah scroll, the last letter of the word Sh'ma, a silent letter Ayin and the last letter of the last word in that verse, the daled from the word echad, these letters are written in oversized script. When read as a word, the ayin and dalet become AYD, witness. So we learn, when Jews recite sh' ma faithfully, when Jews lead lives which are filled with holiness, godliness, then we are witnesses to the reality of faith, of God. But when we do not, God is not. What power we have in this relationship. When we do not stay with God then God cannot continue either.
This God who gives us the chance to grow and develop by stepping aside, by being just a good enough God, by being dependent upon us also, this way of seeing God brings something different to our lives. This suggests a mutuality which allows for intimacy and second chances. It means that we, in partnership with God must join together to reassess, and to search for ways to renew our year, to find another starting place and to redirect our journey.
There is a wonderful tale told of a young man who came a shameful admission to his rabbi. Reb Mendel, he said, I am very angry with God. I think that the God we serve has made a terrible world, full of pain and suffering, and deceit and cruelty. The Rabbi boomed down on the youn man, What! Do you think that you could make a better world? That's just it, Rabbi. I think I could. Reb Mendel grabbed the young man by the shoulders, shook him vigorously and shouted, "Then, BEGIN!"
In this world, where we are proud of our ability to make a difference, we must too take stock of the way that this ability changes forever our relationship with God. Suddenly our answer to the question of Ayyekah becomes just as important and powerful as God's answer. Where are we? Are we doing all that we could be doing to change this world? Are we daily making a difference? Do we shrug aside the phone call from the social action committee, do we turn away from the out-turned hand, do we believe that someone else will always be there and that someone else can do it for me? But the question from God is personal: where are you and what are you doing in this partnership? As we Reform Jews point to our gift of choosing religious behavior, we are challenged to know that each choice will change our path, each choice has significance, each choice moves me, you, all of us together, somewhere further on the road between Eden and Darkness. Now that we are here, since we are here and we have choice and we have God questioning us and we question God, the opportunity of the New Year is to ask a new question. That old wonderful story of Adam and Eve and the first question by God is no longer the question of our day. And asking God ayyekah as though God will suddenly break through the whirlwind and give us an answer which is enough to silence our pain, that is also not the question of our day. Rather, in this new year, we ask "Ayyenu?" Now that is not a Hebrew word which appears in the biblical text and it is not a word form which you will hear used in modern Hebrew conversation, it is a new word for a new world on the first day of a new year. Ayyenu? Where are WE? In partnership, noone judging another but all of us judging ourselves and God the Divine Judge looking at this world and saying, yes I too take responsibility and I share the question, ayyenu. Together, looking at the world which was created for us and with us, as a holy congregation joined by our Creator, we look around and say where are we? We, you, me, God, we are all responsible and it requires a new sense of urgency and commitment to believe that we can renew this year. We ask: God, join us in this struggle. Let us know that you are with us as we endeavor to prove that we are with you.
As God asks us and as we ask God, Ayyekah? We have only one simple and powerful response, given by prophets and teachers and by simple Jews in synagogues, Hineni! I am here. I am present. I am doing the best that I can. I am struggling and I am in relationship with you. I am as far along as I can be. I have gone off course but I am still here and I am working my way back onto the path. I am with you. And this year we say as well, Hinenu, We are here, All of us, in partnership, God along with God's children, Hinenu, We are here.