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Kol Nidre 5766-2005 

Mipnei Darchei Shalom: Global Teshuvah for the Sake of Peace
by Rabbi Yael B. Ridberg

Two weeks ago I opened up the week in review section of the Times, and there, for all to see was a diagram with circles and arrows, pictures of the leadership of our country, from New Orleans, and even some political commentators.  There was a small paragraph about each of the people featured, and the headline read “Blame game.”

When human failures made the disaster on the Gulf Coast worse, everybody found fault with somebody, and the finger pointing hasn’t stopped.  I keep hoping that someone, anyone, really, will say “I made a terrible mistake.  I didn’t pay attention.  I thought someone else would take care of the problem, when really, it was my responsibility, I screwed up, I was thoughtless, irresponsible, selfish, power hungry, distracted, and just plain out of touch. ”But I haven’t heard that yet, and I’m waiting.

Of course I’m not holding my breath, but it does make me think about the year just past and how shocking a year it has been for our self- image as human beings.  We have concrete pictures etched in our minds that we treat fellow human beings in ways which deprive them of their fundamental dignity, in ways which are abusive and destructive. That is true both of those who live as neighbors, the poor and the elderly, and those who are our in our path as we go to war. (Rabbi Eddie Feld)

The bookend disasters of the Tsunami in South East Asia and Hurricane Katrina showed us the two faces of our world which reflect the two faces of humanity that we confront on these holiest of days.  The first face is the one which feels deeply responsible for one another which is in consonance with our Jewish values, and what we emphasize on the yamim noraim by making public confession, and resolving to live differently in the coming year.  But the other face we saw is the one which abnegates responsibility, tries to blame someone else, and squarely places the perverbial “buck” elsewhere. So when I saw the paper, I finally knew what I wanted to say on this night. Last year, I stood before you and asked, Ayekah?  Where are you? Spiritually, morally, physically?  Tonight I have no question – only a statement.  Ashamnu.  We have done wrong.  And we must learn to do right.

Tonight we must confront the need for global teshuvah, and like our own process of return, this is hard.  We are living in a world where there is much to despair over, and yet, we must pursue the kind of teshuvah that can lighten our burden, ease our despair, and help us feel more in control than we currently do.

I have been grappling a lot over the last few months with what I feel is an increasingly callous world, and yet I myself have also felt selfish, ignorant of life beyond my own comfort zone; I have felt disconnected and distracted. I have felt it too easy to turn off the news, put down the paper, just to escape feeling even more depleted and drained.

This has been one difficult year.  Actually, the last few years have been pretty exhausting on the global level – let’s just review: September 11, 2001, the war in Afganistan, the war in Iraq, the situation in Israel, extreme poverty in many parts of the world, the abuse scandal at Abu Graib and ongoing torture during war, Genocide in the Sudan, last year’s election, the tsunami in south east asia, the mounting dead and insurgency in Iraq, and just to top things off before a new year – a devastating hurricane on the gulf coast and the -- pick one – reminder or realization that there are serious gaps in the leadership and accountability of our country.

There is more.  But the point is – in a year so depleting communally, not to mention whatever challenges we face individually, how do we recharge?  How do we find real ways to uplift ourselves when there is so much to despair over?  How do we overcome the feelings of helplessness and how do we make sense of our broken world?  And how can there be global teshuva?

I think about the 2 stories of Noah woven together into one narrative in the book of Genesis. After the flood, one story has Noah building an altar to burn sacrifices of gratitude for having survived the calamity.  The other has Noah planting grape vines that he had brought with him on the ark, harvesting the grapes, drinking the wine and getting drunk.

Both of these legitimate responses, indeed quite human responses – both ultimately part of the whole story.  We are grateful for life, but we are despairing of life as well.

I think that we come together on Kol Nidre seeking renewed sources of energy.  We are all the avaryanim – transgressors, unrighteous, and seeking forgiveness.  We come together in the comfort of community and yet, each of is also strangely alone with our own thoughts and prayers. We come together in the hopes of moving forward all together.

What will be our response to the world outside these walls?  Will we offer ourselves as part of the solution to what ails the world, or will we continue to be part of the problem?

Tonight I want all of us to think about what the purposes of our prayers will be this Yom Kippur, to what are they dedicated?  In my yoga practice, the teacher often invites us to dedicate our practice to someone or something beyond ourselves.  In this way the time that we take for ourselves isn’t a selfish indulgence -- it’s a recognition that when we give thought to our behavior in the world, our actions will matter, so let them be dedicated to something beyond “the good workout.”

So as I speak tonight, I invite you to think of something or someone you would like to dedicate your prayers, your introspection to, in the hopes that through you and your actions, the new year just begun will be better than the one just ended.

For my own understanding of this teshuvah process, I sought out the etymology of the word kipper, customarily defined as “atone” or expiate.” But according to the Anchor Bible series, in biblical poetry its parallel synonym is “maha” to wipe away or “hesir” to remove.  The suggestion is that kipper means to purge.  Other poetic passages will use the parallel, kissa which means to “cover over”, thereby connoting a smearing on of a new substance instead of effacing an existent one.

So which is it?  Does kipper mean to wipe away, erase the wrongdoing? Can you really undo what has been done?  Could it be to erase the sin but not the lesson learned from the wrongdoing?  Or does it mean to cover over, pretend it isn’t there, draw attention to something else and “hide it away”?

This question has made me think about the glaring sins of commission and omission that we have witnessed this year in the hopes of finding real ways to the metaphoric kappara – atonement and renewal.  Because really, when we are speaking of global teshuvah, you can’t just cover over or erase.  You actually have to do something about it.  Why?  Because like the Talmudic understanding of why we should give tzedakah to non-Jews, Mipnei darchei shalom – for the sake of peace.  In this shrinking world, where access to remote places can be had in an instant, we are in fact, more responsible for one another, Mipnei darchei shalom.  For the larger ways and means of making peace.

So here are a few images from the past year, and questions for us to pose to ourselves and the larger world about  the pursuit of these derachim, these ways of making whole our broken world.

As a result of the Tsunami disaster last December, more than a quarter of a million people are now known to have died, and millions of people have been left homeless and in need of aid in Thailand, India, Sri Lanka, Indonesia, and Somalia.  For most of us, these places were distant, exotic locales until the devastating waves washed these communities into our lives.

We wrote our checks, contributed to relief efforts, and went on with our lives.  As well we should.  But the images of poverty stricken communities, having to rebuild everything from scratch continued to play like a slide show in my mind.

How might our country, indeed the world, act mipnei darchei shalom – for the sake of peace following disasters anywhere in the world?  And even more so, how might we act before such a tragedy strikes.

A disaster like the Tsunami (and proven yet again in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina) has colossal aftershocks because of the poverty of the communities that were in harm’s way.

We need to really confront the ravages of poverty all over the globe.  In July, the G8 summit took place, which is the gathering of the industrialized and developed nations, the economic leaders of the world.  The focus of those discussions was the alleviation of debt relief and real assistance for countries like Africa.

Thankfully, the world's finance ministers have reached agreement to cancel the debts of up to 38 of the poorest countries, freeing up close to $1 - $1.5 billion each year once all 38 have qualified, funding which will put schools, health clinics and clean water into more communities.  The ministers, meeting in Washington to direct the International Monetary Fund and World Bank, agreed to the outline of the G8 Summit agreement to cancel 100% of the debts owed by eligible poor countries, releasing them from crushing debt burdens left over in many cases from loans stolen by corrupt dictators and negligent donors.

This is a kind of international teshuvah – literally and metaphorically.  Relieving the debts of countries that are so impoverished and which could never repay the debt, is an important step on the road to a more just world.

All over NYC I have seen posters in bus shelters with a large hand brown skinned at the wrist, with different skin ones on the fingertips. The caption reads:  We are all African.  Do you know that if America donated 1% of our budget, which is 25 billion dollars, as a Marshall Plan for Africa, along with the other rich nations of the world, we could end extreme poverty by the year 2025? (www.one.org)

This is part of the Millennium Development Goals, set by the United Nations in 2000. This is a goal that we can all be proud of reaching. It will require fortitude and commitment to another part of the world, which answers Hillel's call to not be indifferent or aloof from our community, as well as understanding that helping others to become self-sufficient is Rambam's call to the highest level of tzedakah.

Tackling the issue of global poverty will not be successful if we simply cover it over and turn our attention elsewhere.  Our kapparah – our atonement will not be actualized if we cover up the scurge of poverty.We must purge the world of it.

And even though we just sang in the Avinu malkenu prayer – Ki ain banu maasim -- we have no deeds to justify us, when we commit ourselves to purging the world of poverty our intention and dedication matters.

We when look at the last year, the second image that is seared in memory are the pictures continuing to emerge from Darfur, Sudan.  The Bush Administration already a year ago recognized the atrocities in Darfur as genocide, and yet, these crimes against humanity continue.

Since 2003, the Sudanese government forces and their proxy militia known as janjaweed -- evil men on horseback – have been engaged in genocidal campaigns to displace and wipe out communities of African tribal farmers.

The brutal violence and forced displacement directly affects 2 ½ million people.

In the aftermath of the Shoah, we declared never again!  Was this a vow only about Jews?  “The questions asked after the Shoah are mounting again: Where are the nations of the world?  Where are the churches of the world? Where are the priests, the pastors, the bishops and the Pope?” (R. Harold Schulweis)

Our synagogue has been very supportive of the American Jewish World Service effort to stop the genocide in Darfur, but we must do more.  The Torah teaches us – al ta’amod al dam re’echa -- don’t stand idly by the blood of your neighbor.

As human beings, our well-being is inextricably bound up with the well-being of others: this is the profound teaching of this historical moment. We are called to think deeply and clearly about what it will really take to end the genocide in Darfur, and to lessen violence and suffering throughout the world.

We are challenged to think about what sacrifices those of us blessed to live in the United States might need to make to begin to address these atrocities in a way that will lead to true stability and security on a global scale.

Our kapparah – our atonement will not be actualized if we simply cover over these images of violence, we must purge genocide from the world, and our silence will not solve anything.

And even though we just sang in the Avinu malkenu prayer – Ki ain banu maasim -- we have no deeds to justify us, when we commit to purging the world of genocide our intention and dedication matters.

Finally, the last images on the path to global teshuvah are still painfully fresh in our memory.  They are of course from last month’s devastating Hurricane Katrina and the aftershock of Hurricane Rita.

I know there have been many words said and written about this tragedy, and yet, here is where the need for global teshuvah is most acutely felt. There is no way to undo what has been done.  Like Job, we all have to wrestle with the seemingly unfair tragedies that come from living as a human being on Earth.

Yet, in the case of the hurricane, we do have control over many aspects of the situation.  We could prepare better, build proper support systems to protect us, and listen to those who have been saying for decades that this kind of disaster is bound to happen soon.

We are a stubborn group, human beings, and the lessons to be learned from this disaster are many.  The question is: will we learn them?  We have the control to decide to fix levees, to not destroy coastline through neglect and willful action that causes erosion, to make sure that proper plans are in place for evacuation.

And to go one layer deeper, as with the recognition of the G8 summit, we have the control to alleviate poverty, which was the leading cause of massive loss of life and the chaos that ensued after the rains subsided.  But the reality that people who are living on $7,000 a year, without a car or money for a bus ticket, were left to die in the city while those who had the means evacuated, is simply too much to bear.

It would be some comfort to think that America will be stronger because of this – but the complacency and disregard that led to so much excess distress and destruction feels endemic.  As Senator Barack Obama of Illinois said recently, “This is a nation that can go from shock to trance in two weeks.”

Our Kapparah – our atonement will not be actualized until real responsibility is taken, if we simply cover over these images of negligence Ignore the mistakes made at every level, that will not be sufficient.  We must purge ignorance and apathy from the world, and playing a deafening blame game will not solve anything.

And even though we just sang in the Avinu malkenu prayer – Ki ain banu maasim -- we have no deeds to justify us, when we commit to better preparedness for disasters, effective response at every level, and clear commitment to recovery, our intention and dedication matters.

Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote in an article entitled “No time for Neutrality” that one of the lessons derived from the events of our time is that “we cannot dwell at ease under the sun of our civilization, that humanity is the least harmless of all beings.”  Is our life dedicated to the pursuit of pleasure, or an engagement for service?

This is surely no time for neutrality.  Despite our depletion, despite despair and the tendency to throw up our hands at these images and many others, we simply cannot.  Our liturgy over the next 24 hours won’t let us, because ultimately they are words of hope.  As we list our sins, we conclude each listing with the affirmation that our own atonement can affect our destiny.

Ashamnu – it is true we have done wrong.  But if we didn’t believe that there was possibility to do right, we wouldn’t be here, now, together.  We are painfully aware of the paradox of this day – between fragility and stability; Between the quest for security and trust, and the awareness at the edge of consciousness that washes over us at any time, that at any moment everything we take for granted might change, end or disappear. (R. Richard Hirsh)

In the haunting song we sing on Yom Hashoah, Ani maamin- I believe – we find the words: Af al pi she’yitmamehah – Even though redemption tarries, I still believe.

Despite all the images of the past year, all the anguish, atrocity, and anger, our quest for global teshuvah must start here and now.  What will the tenor of your prayers be this Yom Kippur?  To what, or whom will they be dedicated? Will your soul searching and introspection have the capacity to affect someone or something other than yourself?

Let all of us together reach higher in our prayers and ultimately, in our actions mipnei darchei shalom – for the sake of peace for us and for all humanity.

Be’emunah sheleimah – with real abiding faith -- Ani maamina - I do believe.

Gmar Hatima Tova – May our journey towards teshuvah be inspired.