KOL NIDRE 5785

Can You Hear Me? Finding Yourself

On Rosh Hashanah we wished each other a happy New Year! Tonight, as we begin Yom Kippur, I’d like to focus on the “new” part—on how we can personally make it “new”—different from what was. If we’re honest, we would likely continue to do the same things we did before. Do you ever feel like you’re in your own Groundhog Day—stuck in Punxsutawney PA living the same boring day over and over? Is that the story of your life? 

A young man once came to the city of Kotsk to study with the Kotsker Rebbe—19^th century Chassidic master. The Rebbe asked him, “Young man, tell me, why you came here?”

         He answered, “I came here to find Gd.”

         Now if you give that kind of an answer to a rabbi, you’d probably expect a pat on the back. But the Rebbe said to him, “To find Gd? What a waste of time. You don’t have to come to Kotsk to find Gd. Gd is everywhere.”

         The young man was baffled and asked, “What answer were you looking for?”

         The Rebbe said, “You didn’t come here to find Gd, my son. You came here to find yourself!” 

My friends, that’s why we all came here tonight—to hear the voice of Kol Nidre and find our true selves.

People go on these journeys to find themselves to India, to Africa, to Memphis Tenn. at the shrine of Elvis Presley’s pink Cadillac. What they find is that these places are not so enlightening after all. And yet, in Judaism, finding your true self is the most important journey of life. What the Kotsker Rebbe was saying is, “Don’t tell me you’ve come here to discover some lofty, abstract concept of a cosmic, irrelevant Gd. Yes, find Gd, but find Gd within yourself. Discover your soul—who you really are—and that is a spark of Gd!”

What does it mean to find Gd within yourself? It’s about discovering your unique purpose in this world and being true to it. You see, you have a gift. It’s a gift that Gd gave you and no one else—otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Your birth was Gd’s way of saying, “You matter; you’re important. You have a special role to play.” So, find your purpose and bring Gd’s light into this world with it—because that’s who you really are!

How often does your phone ring and you don’t recognize the number? You answer and it’s an unfamiliar voice. You try to tell them they have the wrong number, but they just keep talking and talking. In a sense this captures the story of the Jew today. You see, Gd keeps calling and calling and we keep saying, “Sorry you have the wrong number.” Yet Gd keeps calling us back!

Gd appeared at the burning bush to Moses and told him to lead His children out of Egypt. Moses said, “Sorry Gd, you’ve got the wrong number. It can’t be me. I’m the wrong one. Pick someone else.”

         Gd said, “I’m Verizon. I know all the numbers. I’m the one who gave you your number. So, let’s keep the line open and do some good work together.” The rest is history.

Tomorrow we’ll read about Jonah. Gd called Jonah and said, “Go to the city of Ninveh and inspire the people there to change their destructive ways.”

         Jonah replied, “What? Hello? Can’t hear you. It must be a bad reception cell here.”

Come on, be honest. How many of us do the same thing. You get a call from someone you don’t want to talk to … or you don’t like what someone is saying … so you say, “Hello, hello, can’t hear you. I must be in a place with bad reception.” You’re not the 1^st to do it. Jonah did it.

         Jonah was saying, “I’m not cut out for that. I should go to Ninveh and tell people how to live their lives? Me? You must have the wrong guy—the wrong number.

         Gd said, “I’m T-Mobile, I have all the numbers!”

Jonah ran away to the city of Tarshish and boarded a boat. A huge storm came up and he was thrown overboard and swallowed by a really big fish. And there in the belly of this big fish Gd rings him up again in a booming voice, “Can you hear me now?” Jonah got the message and went to Ninveh and saved the city.

My friends, we all experience times in our lives when we hear words and thoughts that inspire us—that animate our souls. It’s your spiritual cell phone ringing inside you. It’s calling your number—the number of your soul. It’s Gd reaching out saying: “Can you hear me now!? I need you.” Gd gave each of us our own set of talents and circumstances so we could make the world—in our own way—a better place, a holier, more Gdly place.

How do we respond? Do we say, “Gd, you’ve got the wrong number? Pick someone else? What was that that you wanted from me? Something about me going to shul on a regular basis? Me? Ha, it can’t be me. You want me to bring a little bit of Shabbos into my home? Are You sure you have the right number? I should start studying a little Torah everyday and take Torah classes? Me? Are you sure You’re talking to the right person? You want me to get involved in charitable causes and give away some of my own hard-earned money? Me?”

My friends, we run away to our own Tarshish—running away from life. And then things happen in our lives that we can’t make any sense of and we ask ourselves, “What’s going on here? Why am I struggling so much?” What we don’t realize is that we’re in the belly of a big fish and Gd is calling our number asking: “Can you hear me now? Can you hear me now?”

Each of us is sent into this world on a mission, for a purpose. Don’t be afraid of it. Don’t run away to Tarshish. Go to your Ninveh, to where Gd sends you. In Judaism the exercise of finding yourself means getting to know your unique inner potential and your talent that can impact the world—and then to actually do something with it.

An Amish boy and his father were visiting a mall. They were amazed by almost everything they saw, but especially by 2 shiny, silver walls that could move apart and back together again. The boy asked, “What is that, Father?”

         The father—never having seen an elevator—responded, “Son, I have never seen anything like this in my life, I don’t know what it is.”

         While the boy and his father were watching with amazement, an old lady in a wheelchair rolled up to the moving walls and pressed a button. The walls opened and the lady rolled between them into a small room. The shiny silver walls closed, and the boy and his father watched the small circular numbers above the walls light up sequentially. They continued to watch until it reached the last number and then as these numbers began to light in reverse order. The walls opened again and, low and behold, a beautiful 24-year-old woman stepped out.

         The father couldn’t take his eyes off the gorgeous young woman and said quietly to his son, “Hurry, go get your mother!”

Sadly my friends, there’s no magic elevator to help change us into the person we would like to be, or to change someone else into the person we would like them to be. Instead, we need to become who we already are—our true selves. How do we do that? The answer is Yom Kippur! We beat our hearts as we confess our sins—we do teshuva. Teshuva is usually translated as “repentance,” but it literally means “returning”—returning to who you really are.    

How does this help us? You see, when we beat our hearts again and again when we mention our sins we are saying:

·       Ashamnu, I am ashamed, bagadnu, of betraying who I really am. Hashem forgive me, it is finished.

·       Debarnu dofi, the lashon hara gossip I have spoken, Hashem forgive me, it is finished.

·       Kizavnu, the way I deceived others for my advantage, forgive me, it is finished.

·       Saranu, the way I have turned away when others need my help, forgive me, it is finished.

·       Ta-inu, the way I strayed from You Gd last year—not fulfilling my obligations as a Jew, forgive me, it is finished.

·       Kishinu oref, the way I have been stiffed-necked and stubborn, refusing to do anything about my addictions—to alcohol, to drugs, to social media, to the tv, to whatever it is—it is finished.

         My addiction doesn’t control me. It can’t keep me from my destiny. You see, as long as you accept your addiction saying, “This is who I am,” you’re allowing it to stay. But when you tell your addiction, “This is NOT who I am; I am an image of Gd,” then in the unseen realm, this breaks the strongholds, loosens the chains so Gd’s blessings to us can be released.

My friends, are there things you are now living with that you need to say, “It is finished?” If so, as you beat your heart tonight, genuinely ask Gd to forgive you. Then, expect things to change. Become excited about your future. You don’t need magical silver elevator doors to change into who you already are.

Let’s face it, change is not easy. But that’s what Kol Nidre and Yom Kippur are all about. Our tendency is to leave things the way they are and not rock the boat. To live, however, means to grow. And if that means taking some risks, don’t be afraid. Make those changes. Shake things up a bit.

When difficulties and adversity come your way, instead of getting angry, instead of getting depressed … your challenge is to ask yourself, “How can I grow from this?” Life is not like a deck of cards where you’re stuck with the hand you’ve been dealt—but only if you have the courage to change.  

So, have the courage to change your relationship with Gd. Have the courage to change your relationships with those you love. Think of what you can do to behave better with your loved ones—whether it’s speaking more gently, or listening more carefully without interrupting—[raise my hand] guilty!—or whether it’s spending more time together doing the things they like to do.

My friends, we all experience moments of awakening, moments of inspiration beckoning us to change. Do not get stuck in your own Punxsutawney PA, living the same boring days over and over. Make this a truly “new” year. So, the next time your spiritual cell phone rings, answer it and tell Gd, “I can hear you now! I’m here and I’m ready.” Kol Nidre is the time to make that change. Let’s get to work. Amen!