Dana Rubin
L Shana tova
On one of those very hot summer days, I was sitting, thinking about all the transitions in our lives: Hannah had moved to New York, Elijah went to Spain, many of my colleagues have moved on and yes, Rabbi Penzner is retiring: all making me feel a little disconnected. So I thought maybe if do can contribute to the temple in a different way, that will help me feel more grounded. Before I lost my nerve, I quickly texted the Rabbi … shortly she responded with a resounding “ YES that would be great, thank you.”
Then I got my assignment.
I took a pause. I reread the email –indeed I was asked to ‘introduce the Yom Kippur Musaf Service …’
Was this a mistake? How can I introduce such important prayers? After all the Amidah is one of the cornerstones of Jewish ritual, and our Yom Kippur prayers.
So I did what I usually do with any diagnostic dilemma, I did a little reading.
I learned that this constellation of prayers are traced back to the destruction of the Second Temple, when religious observance moved away from offerings animals and food, led by the High Priests, to offering word, thoughts and prayer. And the High Holy day Amidah is so important we repeat it 5 times and it, of course, includes Unetaneh Tokef – the haunting declaration of both the inevitability of suffering and the hope that things will be better, by repairing ourselves, the world, and listening for that elusive ‘still small voice”
In the spirit of the offerings of the Amidah, I offer this.
As most kids, I saw Judaism thru the lens of my family and my experience in our Temple. Rosh Hashana was a fun filled day with family and even the services were fun.
Oddly, I was always a little anxious around Yom Kippur. For in my house, this day was anything but Holy… stressful yes, Holy, no. Well, truth be told there was yelling and lots of chaos. Being the Temple President and part of the lay leadership, my dad always left for Temple early, leaving my mom to finish dinner and get 3 kids and herself ready. She fundamentally did not always agree with organized religion and getting dressed up was her least favorite thing, commenting loudly, I know ‘G-d does not care if I wear heels!!!” as we ran out the door. She much preferred a walk in the park.
Anyway, dinner was inevitably late and rushed, the car ride was miserable as the daggers of blame for our lateness were thrown. As we ran into the Temple to take our seats, we tried hard to look happy and calm ..but I could see the stress on my mother’s face as she hurriedly greeted our friends.
My dad, on the other hand, immediately relaxed as he stepped into the Temple; it was as if he was pairing with some spiritual blue tooth. He beamed with each prayer, absorbing the liturgy, the music, the connections. He sang at the top of his lungs, belting out all songs out like a Broadway tune, for he did not care. He had become one with the service. I thought – I want some of that!
Sitting with my mom I found a quieter connection; she taught us to really read the words of the prayers and try to find meaning, and if we were bored showed us the meditation at the back of the siddur. “Find one that speaks to you,” she would say.
For, in spite of her protest for the ‘formality of Temple’, she too was very connected, leading the religious school, helping with food drives, and getting us kids to Temple. During the service, she would hold us tight during the Yizkor service, having lost her mother at a young age. But it was also not uncommon for her to lead us in a good ‘giggle ‘in response to my dad’s singing …. Ah, yes, the Days of Awe…
Despite many years of Yom Kippur observances, bat mitzvah, confirmation, and youth group, I still do not know if I really Know ‘how’ to pray, where my prayer may go or what to pray for.
In my personal and professional life as a physician, I often question the existence of a benevolent g-d or even the existence of a higher power when tragedy befalls a friend, a patient or a loved one. I hear stories of tragedies and trauma that have so many layers you wonder how anyone breathes. I struggle to understand the emptiness and despair that lead a teenager to attempt to take their own life- where is the divine power? How can anyone so young not choose life. I try hard to do no harm and even help. where do I find g-d? Why is my blue tooth not working?
On the other hand, I know I find ‘wonder and inspiration, even holiness, in the world, like my mother, in nature, in people, in babies in friends, in the adults my children are becoming and my husband. I know that some greater power has provided amazing friends to share my life in good and bad times. Even if my exact prayers have not been answered, I have found answers and the support in the people around me. Climbing up a mountain or swimming across a pond on a glorious summer day, I find the words of the Shehecheyanu swirling in my head– those times when the perfection of natural world is intoxicating, In that silence, I almost sense that I can Hear a ‘still small voice’.
More than anything, my parents taught me that there are so many ways to embrace Judaism and spirituality. I hope we can learn from their example as each in our own way, we connect to the words, the melodies, and the sacred time set aside for the Amidah. For these thoughts, meditations and prayers are the offerings that we bring to our Yom Kippur observance.
And maybe, during this very special Standing Meditation, we will all get closer to hearing our own ‘still small voice’.