On this eve of the Jewish Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur, I compelled to share with you the remarks I offered to my fellow members at Congregation Kol Ami during Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year) services last weekend.  Though lengthy, they encapsulate my feelings during this time of reflection.

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It’s a great honor to be here.  When I began writing this talk several weeks ago, my sister, Joanne, who introduced me to Kol Ami, encouraged me to make it hopeful.  And, at this point in time, it’s sort of a difficult assignment, but I began thinking about time, how we measure it, and how fleeting it can be. 

I remember as a child growing up, my parents always talked about the High Holidays in terms of “Are they early this year?”  “Are they late this year?”  “How do we schedule our fall life around it?”  As children, of course, we always hoped the holidays would be on school days so we could miss school.  And, we always found it disappointing when we had to give up a precious weekend for the holidays.

But, it was always a marker for us as Jews as the beginning of something different.  A new beginning.  But, now, time is passing in a way that is hard to keep track of the days. 

I don’t know about you, but these last six months, during the time of Covid-19, some days I’m not sure if it is Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday, … and there really is no end in sight.  It all seems like the same after a while.

And, just as we always used to mark our fall by the beginning of the holidays, it seems that maybe we should make this span of time that we are living through have some special meaning.  So many people are suffering in the time – physically, economically, emotionally.  Children can’t go to school.  Children can’t see their parents; parents can’t see their children.  And there is no end in sight.

Many of our political leaders want to use this time to score partisan points so they can either remain in power or gain power.  The tribalism has become worse just at a time when a common crisis should be bringing us together.  And there is no end in sight.

The stain of racism has become more vivid during this time with the killing of Black men by police in inexcusable circumstances.  The reaction from many Americans – white and Black – is to say “no more,” and, yet, still we have more cases of Black men killed by police in circumstances where, if the victims had been white, they would still be alive.  And, in spite of all this, when it comes to removing systemic racism from our society, there is no end in sight. This can lead to a feeling of great despair.  Our lives severely interrupted; uncertainty everywhere; disruptions in parts of America, with violence in some, with the nation being asked to choose between safer neighborhoods or an end to systemic racism – a false choice, for sure – but, nevertheless, it is the frame that is being constructed. 

And, meanwhile, 1,000 Americans die of Covid every day, and 40,000 more are infected – with no end in sight.

So, it appears that we have to decide whether we will wait for our lives to return to normal – whatever that turns out to mean – or accept the fact that, with no end in sight, we have to do things within this time that we would rather not face.  Afterall, it’s hard enough not to go out without a mask, to have our children attending school from home, not seeing loved ones and staying home to avoid the contagion.  I think that as we approach the New Year, we have an opportunity to change the trajectory of our lives and of those around us.  More importantly, we have the obligation to do so – each in our own way. 

As Hillel famously said, “If I am not for me, who shall be?”  Which, of course, means we look after ourselves and our loved ones.  Hillel then said, “If I am just for me, what am I?”  His admonishment to look beyond ourselves has never been more relevant.  And, instead of just traditional acts of kindness and community involvement and support, these times call for actions which we have all too long ignored.  By that, I mean actively trying to connect with people with whom we disagree. 

If you want to know why we must do this, just look around.  Covid has been politicized in a way whereby wearing a mask – or not – has become a political statement.  Voting by mail – or not – has partisan significance.  Supporting the President – or not – has disrupted families and long-time relationships.  This is destroying our communities and, with it, the lives of many people. 

Hillel wants to know what we are if we don’t change this.

Hillel concludes with, “If not now, when?”

We need to act now to change this.  It requires many acts of tolerance, but it does not require accepting intolerance.  It calls on us to learn to listen to each other and to give others with whom we disagree the benefit of the doubt.  That their motives may be as good as ours.  That their point of view may have some merit.  And, we must learn to engage with each other with civility and empathy because if we cannot learn to do this with each other, we will live the rest of our lives caught in this cycle of desperation.

No one should think this is enough – hard as it is.  We need to not just talk about how we find racism, economic inequity, religious and social bigotry abhorrent, but we really need to actively do something.  Whether it is within our businesses, our social groups or our community writ large, we have an obligation to more than just talk. 

Tikkun Olam – to heal the world – is our obligation as Jews.  It is a lifelong journey and, as we try to cope with everyday life during Covid, we really need to have faith in ourselves and in our fellow Americans.  I know how hard that can be.  I’ve been involved in trying to enhance civil discourse among non-like-minded people for the last 15 years.  But, let me tell you, that in spite of everything around us that we see that is dark, there are times when hope emerges – when people discover each other, not as opponents, but as fellow human beings who have more in common than differences. 

We as a people agree on many things.  There are common values that have made this country exceptional.  This great, flawed, imperfect republic has served for many years as a shining light to the rest of the world.  We need to act now to invite into our lives those who are different from us.  If we can actually do this, we will discover that when Covid is no longer the defining part of our lives, when the end is in sight, we can realize in the midst of this misery, we have helped restore our community and our country to a place we can be proud of.

Because, if we get this right, we will have learned to live with people who are different than we are.  If nothing else, this time has taught us that there are people who don’t look like us, they don’t pray like we do, their families are not like ours, and their opinions, we do not share.  But, this is their country, too.  And, the moral and ethical underpinnings of our nation, e pluribus unum, “out of many, one,” can indeed become real.  If we can make that idea resonate again throughout America, if we can finally make that possible for people of all races, religions, and opinions, we will have accomplished a great deal.

As we begin this New Year in the midst of Covid and unresolved conflicts with no end in sight, let us commit ourselves to using this time wisely and empathetically.  Find someone to include or to befriend who is different from you.  We can do this.  And, then, this time of disruption will have helped us move forward and rediscover our community and a country that is, indeed, exceptional.

This was where my talk was supposed to end but, with the news of the death of Ruth Bader Ginsburg, I feel I must address two important ideas.  First, she was a giant – though small of stature – who spoke truth to power as an advocate, and then as a judge, demonstrating courage, insight and humanity.  We will not see the likes of her again.  Secondly, her death has ignited yet another partisan firestorm.  Perhaps, just this once, 51 senators, from both parties, will announce that no consideration of any nominee will be taken into consideration until after the election, and then from whoever is elected.  I am not hopeful, which makes it even more important that each of us act responsively so that our elected representatives are put on notice that we expect more from them.  We embrace a return to a time where the ends do not justify the means; where we look at each other as fellow citizens who respect our differences, but revel in the idea, hope and values that we share.  L’shana Tova (Happy New Year).