Throughout the high holiday season, we think a lot about judgment. It’s a heavy word, and also a word that brings to mind lots of possibilities. In the month of Elul, God is judging us to see what we have done in the past year and what will happen to us in the future. Knowing this we reflect and pass judgment on ourselves and, often, others.
I am going to borrow a phrase from Rachel Stern’s #BlogElul post and say: life is about perspective. She used this phrase to encourage people to see things as blessings. Here, I’d like to remind everyone that our judgments are also a matter of perspective.
When I tell people I work for a Jewish organization in Mississippi I occasionally get a response like, “there can’t be a lot of Jews there!”… and it’s true that there are not as many Jews here as there are in New York or Los Angeles. But I am sad when people say things like “It’s great that you are helping those Jews, they must really need it.”
I think this statement reflects a judgment, intentional or not, lacking in firsthand knowledge. It also reflects a judgment about what a Jewish community should look like, that it should look one certain way, when in fact there are lots of different ways to build a Jewish community. The Jewish communities that I visit have rich Jewish lives, they just might not look like the life we know in New York or Los Angeles.
“Those Jews” don’t need judgment. None of us do—but we can all use support.
I also have to be careful of my own judgments. I am a visitor in the communities I serve as an ISJL Education Fellow, and it is my job to empower educators. It is not my place to judge what a community’s priorities should be, how they should spend their resources, or which values they should hold most dear. And it is also not fair for me to judge them against any other community, Northern or Southern. Each congregation is its own special place.
Throughout this month of Elul, as I begin my fall visits and my second year as a Fellow unfolds, I will have to evaluate the strengths and weaknesses of the communities with which I work, so that I can help them plan for a successful year. As I do this I am being extra careful to evaluate, but not to judge. I want to help each community be the very best versions of themselves, whatever that might be; evaluating their needs will help guide me to what support will be most helpful.
So, too, as we celebrate Rosh Hashanah, should we strive not to judge, but rather to evaluate. To take a personal inventory of what worked for us and against us in the past year, and how we can—and what support we need.
Each congregation I work with deserves respect, evaluation, and support—not judgment; each of us deserves the same. We are all “those Jews” who “really need” that!
It’s that time of year. The holidays are on my mind, and in my heart.
The sound of the Shofar for me is a primal calling, something that touches my soul as a beautiful and startling awakening. Each year I feel astonished that I have not even noticed my own drift into semi-conscious life until I hear that shofar and my mind, body and soul suddenly come together to shake me to my core.
How does it happen each year to slowly and imperceptibly drift into semi consciousness? I am so “busy” with life, that during the year a protective barrier forms somewhere between my soul and my mind and body to insulate me from this fully awakened state.
If the barrier was not there, could I live and be productive doing mundane tasks in everyday life? What if I could block the barrier from growing back? Would I then be able to fully realize the holiness in every task that I do? Would that kind of holy awareness be too much for me to handle all the time?
If I was fully aware of holiness all the time, would I lose the awe of the awakening?
How does a woman who believes in the truth of the Torah and all its’ teachings without believing it all as “fact” get moved to tears at the sound of Tekiah Gadola as the metaphorical gates are closing at the very end of Neilah Service? How has it happened year in and year out for so many years and yet still….. it surprises me?
These are just a few of the questions that I am asking myself this High Holy Day season in preparation for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, when I will sit in the pews at my home synagogue in New Orleans and be awakened again by the call of the shofar as a new year begins.
What questions are on your mind as you reflect throughout this holy season?
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Rabbi Klaven will be in Vicksburg, Mississippi.
Rabbi Dreffin will be in Longview, Texas.
In these communities, as in communities large and small throughout the world, Jewish people – and often their friends and neighbors – will come together to seek atonement, to reflect, and to prepare for a better year ahead.
Wherever you will be spending your holiday, we wish you a meaningful experience and a sense of community. May you be sealed in the Book of Life!
Where will you be for Yom Kippur?
(Photos of Vicksburg Confirmation Class and Longview’s Temple Emanu-El both from ISJL’s Encyclopedia of Southern Jewish Communities.)