Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Getting To Know Me

The thought came to me on Yom Kippur, several years ago. It was during Neilah, the closing service; I was weary from nearly twenty four hours of fasting and saturated with all the confessionals of the day. I thought to myself in the midst of confessing one sin after the other in the final confession, most of which I had no idea I committed, that in our dualistic existence there must be a polar opposite of a sin. Yes, of course, I reasoned after a little reflection, it's a Mitzvah. What else could it be? If sins are those actions from which God asks us to refrain, then there must be actions He wants us to do, my mind continued. There can only be a choice of what's acceptable behavior and what's not. How could we possibly know?


After the final Shofar blasts, with my sins as white as lilies, I got in the car to start my drive home. I stopped at a traffic intersection and there cars were backed up for blocks due to a minor traffic accident. I was impatient to get home; I was famished. By the time the tow truck arrived, I was getting angrier for having to sit there and wait so long. I was now getting furious. I honked the horn and yelled at the police, the tow truck driver and the guy who drove carelessly, for causing the delay. It was then I remembered the line we just read, "for the sin that we have sinned before you through harsh speech".


I finally arrived home starved and unnerved. In consolation, I ate and drank everything in sight without reservation and again remembered "for the sin that we have sinned before you with food and drink" It seemed as if I was doomed to sin. I started to think back to the revelation I had during Neilah. If the Mitzvah is the only antidote to sin, how could we be doing Mitzvot all day long. It then occurred to me that the Torah commandments are not the spiritual acts we're led to believe, but the archetypal models for everyday behavior. They're like basic training for every action we do, moment by moment.


Once I realized the error of behaving impulsively I began to wonder what else I do that's inappropriate. It's really hard to know because my ego mind tries to rationalize all my iniquities. Many question arose. Would a Mitzvah counteract a sin now or would I have to wait until next year to confess again. I wondered if there are both small sins and big sins, or is a sin a sin? Is littering chewing gum wrappers as bad as stealing chewing gum? I don't know; only my conscience could tell me. What I do know is that the irreconcilable forces of sin and Mitzvah, provides us with a yardstick to measure if we are, indeed, fulfilling our purpose and destiny.


What I learned from this whole experience is that the spiritual part of Judaism takes place in our everyday activities, not in the synagogue. The early hassidic Rebbes, we're told, went out to the market place to find poor, hapless, distressed Jews in need of help and assistance. It is out there that we can choose whether to sin or not, but how could we know the right choice to make. It would take some kind of antennae, an oracle like the Urim V'Tumim of the High Priest's breastplate to intuit God's nod of approval. We can, with some practice, sensitize ourselves to pick up these messages either as the warm, loving aura of Mitzvah or the cold hostile feelings of sin. We know when it's right and we know when it's wrong; we don't need a book to tell us.


Jewish spirituality, quite different from the spiritual methods of the Eastern religions, yet equally effective, is built on the system of Mitzvot. The performance of mitzvot-- particularly those related to the Creation, the Exodus from Egypt, and the Tent in the Wilderness--reduces our reliance on ego, brings about healing, awakens us from from our fleeting, mundane activities and return us, once more, to that place of primal empowerment. We should rethink our image of Mitzvot, not as antiquated, meaningless rituals performed by our immigrant ancestors, but as the current trend of contemporary, enlightened Jews looking to reclaim their spiritually.