Part of the practice of the High Holy Days is attempting to reestablish or repair relations with other human beings. In seeking to arrive at atonement with God, we are urged to achieve atonement with one another. How well do I have to do this for it to “work”? Can I be less than perfect?
Chalice Lighting: The Book Of Life is open tonight. The pen lies at hand. The ink is ready. May your name, may all of our names, be found inscribed in that text. I light this chalice for hope.
Opening Words:
On this night of mixed hopes, this night of possibility, we gather to acknowledge that which has been and to peer into the dim future. May our hopes be realized, may our lives be long, and may they be full of peace and plenty.
SERMON:
So this is the night that the book of Life is closed, and the final decision about my life, and your life, is made for the year ahead. If we have been purely good this past year, then there is a pretty good chance that God’s decision was for life. If we have sinned, however, and have not repented and changed, then there is an increased likelihood that our name will not be inscribed in the Book of Life.
But repentance and change is possible, because even the people of Nineveh, despite all of their sins, repented, changed their behavior and acted out their repentance. That means that we can as well.
So all we have to do is sit down and figure out the various things we have done wrong throughout the year, since last autumn, make amends to each and every person we have in any way hurt or slighted since then, and then we are all set. Well, include in that list ourselves. That’s a good one. Anything I have done to harm myself I should atone for and both seek and grant forgiveness.
And include in that list the world. In what ways have I harmed the environment or other living creatures. Because the world too is part of God’s creation, is it not? And other creatures, although I think I can get off on that one because God did say I could eat them. So, I do not have to seek forgiveness from or atonement with other creatures, just the world. Well, good, “just the world” narrows it down a bit.
Well, I do see a few problems here. The first is that my memory may not be what it once was. Paul McCartney’s ne w album is entitled “Memory Almost Full” and I think there is a reason for that. If I forget someone I hurt or some action that I took, am I still going to be held accountable for it. Well, I think I should. I certainly wouldn‘t write a code of law that said you were absolved of a crime if you said you couldn’t remember it. And we are talking about a kind of code of law, are we not? So, faulty memory is not an excuse. Well, assuming I make it through the coming year, I had better start keeping a diary.
I know that if I have hurt someone, it may rankle in them for years even though I have long forgotten it, so I should be open to hearing from people that I have hurt them even if I don’t remember it. But if I cannot remember it, there really is nothing I can do about it unless someone brings it to my attention. On the other hand, as I go through drawing up my list of folks I have hurt, I might well be reminded of other incidents that otherwise would have remained lost. But let us assume that God will have at least some leeway for those who truly forget and therefore do not seek to make amends for some faults or failings.
Well good.
But then there are the faults I am not aware of. There are times when I have inadvertently caused others pain or have been oblivious to the pain they were suffering. Am I responsible for those as well? How can I atone for faults if I am not even aware of them? I cannot. I cannot name them and so cannot atone for them. But I do know, do I not, whether I am someone who does that, who overlooks the pain of others whether inflicted by me or by someone else? So, although I may not be able to name specific moments, I can make a point of being more aware of those around me and of what is happening in their lives. And perhaps that will be enough to overcome the fact that I cannot make amends in specific cases.
But there is something else that bothers me, because I know myself. I might not always agree with an uninterested outside observer about just what my faults and sins, for lack of a better word, I might not agree about just what these were. I’m being honest with myself here and the honest truth is that I am not always honest with myself about when I am the one who is at fault. Or, about when even thought the other party was initially at fault, I overreacted or I made it worse. It is so easy for me to maintain my faultlessness if I can find a way to put the blame on someone else. And, really, you know, I can do that even when I am the one initially to blame. Let us suppose that I am in a conversation with my wife (this never happens, of course—conversations happen, what I am about to say doesn’t happen); okay, so I am in a conversation with my wife and I make a point for the tenth time and I say it to her in a sharp tone of voice, so she reacts angrily. Well, clearly, she is at fault. My anger was justified; she got angry for no reason.
And if she was the first to get snippy or angry, well then there is simply no question there. Well, God--or the great karmic calculator--might not see it that way. And that is the problem. I don’t always see my faults, so how am I going to atone for them?
So now I’ve got three lists: the faults I don’t remember, the faults I am not aware of, and the faults I don’t see. This is becoming a bit disconcerting.
And there is another piece of the atonement issue here. You know about the man who raped a woman some years ago and later went into recovery and joined a twelve step program. Because of that he decided to make amends to everyone he had harmed so he wrote a letter of apology to the woman he had raped. And he went to jail. If I try to make amends to people, what will it cost me? Now I know the point of the Days of Awe is that I am dealing with my very life and death is more of a loss than prison time; but might I not get through next year even if I don’t apologize where to do so would cost me?
How perfect at this do I have to be for God to accept my efforts?
And what level of responsibility counts? Last spring, because of the Darfur crisis, there was a great push to have people divest from Fidelity investment funds because some of them invest in a Chinese oil company that does some of its business in Sudan. So think about the levels of distance here: the individual investor is buffered by the investment company fund only a portion of which is invested in the oil company, only a portion of who’s business is done in Sudan, and by the fact that business investment in Sudan is not the same as direct acts of killing or ethnic cleansing in the way that supplying, say, guns would be. How much responsibility does the individual investor have in that case? And the investor is well justified in asking, “What funds can I invest in that are genuinely clean? If I invest in funds at all, will there not be something in those funds to object to?”. So, the investor might feel no guilt in keeping money in the Fidelity Mutual funds that invest in the Chinese oil company.
Nicely stated, nicely justified. But what would God say?
And there is part of the problem. I am a great rationalizer. I can rationalize or justify anything. Others might not buy my rationalizations, but I do. In that I am perfect.
And we are good at that, aren’t we? How do I overcome my tendency to rationalize so that I can make amends to those whom I have harmed so that I my name will be inscribed in the Book Of Life?
Don’t I usually know, at least to some extent, when I am rationalizing? Don’t I know in the moment when that is happening; maybe not always, but to some extent? And don’t I at least know that it is something I have done?
God forgave the people of Nineveh for their sins, so we can be assured that he will forgive ours, right? If we are truly repentant?
But there again there is a problem. The people of Nineveh fasted and dressed in sackcloth and the king sat in ashes. Just how much must I do to show my repentance? Do I also have to wear sackcloth and sit in ashes? And what if I don’t really fast? Can I still be inscribed in the Book Of Life? Just how perfect does my repentance have to be? And how perfect to my acts of repentance have to be?
Does anyone here believe that after their repentance the Ninevites were always perfect? Does anyone here believe that the God of the story thought they would be? He knew they would backslide. He knew they could not be absolutely perfect from that moment forward. What he was interested in was the commitment in their hearts to being different, to changing themselves. Sackcloth and ashes don’t mean anything without a heart-felt commitment within. And with that heart-felt commitment, and with at least some acts of change, I believe we can be less than perfect and still have the acceptance and forgiveness of God.
And then, perhaps, we can also forgive ourselves.
So let it be.
Closing Words: May our names be inscribed n the Book Of Life, may we enter into the new year in hope, may we know the joy of long life, of health and happiness. So let it be.
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