The Non-Accidental Worshipper

In a few short hours, I will enter my synagogue and join Jewish worshippers around the world who are observing Yom Kippur. For 24 hours, we will abstain from all food and drink, a fast that culminates 10 days of repentance and introspection as we ask forgiveness of those we may have wronged over the past year and ask for another year of life. It is not an “accidental” practice on my part, or a new “hobby” I have discovered in retirement, but something that has been an important part of my life for as long as I can remember. I have fasted since my bat mitzvah 53 years ago, and will do my best to continue that practice as long as I am able.

Though I am not a very observant Jew by some standards — I am not Shabbos-observant, for example, and do not keep a Kosher home — I think there is much to be said about observing the High Holy Days. I see the High Holy Days not only as a time of introspection and a time to ask forgiveness, but a time for a personal reality check, as well.

It is that time of the year that I use to schedule all of my annual medical exams, which can be easily forgotten or deliberately postponed. Long-delayed household chores or repairs are resolved. The car is washed, if not detailed. In short, it feels good to start the New Year with a clean slate, on the inside and out.

That may not be what our ancestors intended or our rabbis intend today for the High Holy Days. Yet I am also cognizant of my shortcomings in the year that is coming to an end. Patience is not my virtue; I often have no filters on my tongue; and I ruefully recall some of the meanest comments I have made in my life to some of my dearest friends in years gone by. Thankfully, they do not seem to have remembered, but I do not forget my own shortcomings. Never are they more apparent to me than at this time of the year or when we repeatedly recite the Al Cheyt prayer, a confessional of sins in Hebrew and English in case you can’t remember the wrongs you may have committed.

It also seems to me that as a nation, we are at a particularly mean junction in our moral behavior. There will be armed security guards outside synagogues across the nation. Blame it on our politicians, blame it on social media, or blame it on ourselves. But it is easy to hit that “share” button or tweet a few nasty words that we might never have said to someone face to face. Using an app does not give an excuse to be mean. It doesn’t matter who you are.

So it seems to be that we could all benefit by taking a pause — breathing deeply, eating less, looking inward, slowing down — and focus on being kinder to ourselves, to each other, to strangers, and to the planet. We are all we have. We have only one planet.

Whatever your faith, your race, your political beliefs, your sexual orientation, your relationship to me — if I have wronged you this past year, in word or deed, please forgive me.

Together, let’s do a better job embracing the Jewish concept of Tikkun Olam, healing the world.