Growing from Me to We (Erev Rosh Hashanah Sermon 5780)

Every week residents and I gather for Torah study. Recently we found ourselves discussing what it means to live in a community like Orchard Cove: the gifts of being with peers, surrounded by caring staff, perhaps nearer to our families – but also the challenges of being confronted with tricky social dynamics, or illness and loss; of depending more and more on others to make our medical and financial decisions.

As we brought Jewish tradition to bear on the conversation, we began to see how some of these challenges present opportunities — to practice mindful speech, to care for the sick, to extend good-will to others. Several residents talked about the growth that has come from moving, at this stage in their lives, from a sense of “I” — more or less independent and able to manage life on their own — to a sense of “we” as they invite more people to support them in navigating the ins and outs of daily living.

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A Hasidic tale describes what it means to move from “I” to “we”:

A student asked Rabbi Shmelke, “We are commanded to love our neighbor as ourselves. How can I do this, if my neighbor has wronged me?” 

The rabbi answered: “You must understand these words correctly. Love your neighbor like something which you yourself are. For all souls are one. Each is a spark from the original soul, and this soul is wholly inherent in all souls, just as your soul is in all the parts of your body. It may come to pass that your hand makes a mistake and strikes you. But would you then take a stick and beat your hand, because it lacked understanding, and so increase your pain? It is the same if your neighbor, who is of one soul with you, wrongs you for lack of understanding. If you hurt him, you can only hurt yourself.”

According to this tale, the deepest transgressions we commit happen when we forget we are connected to each other. When we fail to love our neighbors like something which we ourselves are. When we forget that we are all connected, we take more than we need from the earth’s bounty, harden our hearts to our families or those in our employ, or participate in gossip about our neighbors. When we forget that we are all connected, we act out of spite, ultimately harming ourselves when we fill our bodies with the poison of hatred.

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Over the next ten days, we are invited to reflect on moments, whether or not they were intentional, when we transgressed. We seek out and offer forgiveness for hurt that transpired between us and friends or family. Then, on Yom Kippur, we come back together and name these shortcomings in the viddui, our confessional liturgy. As we recite it, we don’t just speak on our own behalf. Rather, we speak as a community, as a collective:

Al cheit sh’chatanu lifanecha, we will chant, “for the sin we have committed before You...” We will recite a list of things we have done that got in the way of our relationships with others and our own best selves: hardening our hearts, being thoughtless, gossiping, misusing our power... Even if we ourselves didn’t commit one of these transgressions, we recite these words in community to share the burden of guilt with those who may bear it most intensely.

And we acknowledge the ways our short-sightedness or stubbornness might have contributed to the challenges we faced over the past year as a community: “for the sin of racial hatred and prejudice; for the sin of lacking civic courage; for the sin of silence and indifference…” 

With these words, we move out of a deeply entrenched sense of ourselves as separate beings — and for a moment, join each other in life’s struggles. We sense the ways our actions impact others, and we recommit to extending kindness to strangers, giving others the benefit of the doubt, welcoming newcomers, speaking more mindfully… 

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In Torah Study, we learned that the Sages link mitzvah, the word we usually translate as “commandment” with a similar sounding Aramaic word that means “to connect.” We discussed the many mitzvot designed to “connect” us with other people: comforting a mourner during shiva, welcoming newcomers, or visiting folks on the Skilled Nursing Floor; joining the morning minyan to support folks reciting Kaddish, coming to Torah study, or donating to the Scholarship Fund.

When we do these mitzvot, we connect – we reach beyond ourselves and become part of a “we”, a collective body of care and support.

So today, and in the days ahead, let us practice relating to those around us “like something which [we] ourselves are.” Through our rituals and prayers, let us commit to using the opportunities presented here, and at this stage of life, in service of our own spiritual and emotional growth. Let us ask to be forgiven for the times we acted only for ourselves, without considering the impact of our actions on other people; and let us offer forgiveness, as we are able, for what others have done out of their own small sense of self.

Let us vow to do good, knowing that with enough repetition, the mitzvot we do can become a part of who we are. As we behave in ways that connect us with each other, we will thus move from a small sense of self to an awareness we are part of something larger than just us. In this way, we will be supported by the energy and strength of those here in our community, and others all around the world who are also engaged in prayer and reflection – and we will enter this new year more deeply committed to one another and to the common life we share.