Rosh Hashanah Eve 2006/5767
Hineni -Here I Am
A proud young mother sees off her son to school on the first day.
"Be a good boy, my boobaleh! Be careful and think of mommy, tateleh! Come
right home on the bus, yingele! Mommy loves you very much, zisseleh!
At the end of the day, she's waiting for the bus and sweeps him into her arms.
"And what did my bubbaleh zissele learn on his first day at school?"
"Well, Mommy, I learned that my real name is Steve."
Knowing our name and asserting our own identity are important parts of
growing up. When we take attendance in Hebrew school, we hear our name called,
and we respond, Hineni, "here I am," "I am present."
"Hineni"-here I am. This phrase also echoes through our Bible.
The first question which God asks Adam in the Garden of Eden, is "Ayeka?
Where are you?"
Author Leonard Fein explains: If God knows all, then why did God have to ask
Adam, "where are you?"
The question is a spiritual one, and the answer must be spiritual, too. It was
asked not just of Adam, but of each of us, every day. Where are you? Where is
your spiritual life?
Adam's answer, that he is ashamed and hiding, isn't really the best, but as
the Biblical narrative progresses, there are many incidents of God calling to
characters by name: Abraham, Abraham! Jacob, Jacob! Moses, Moses! Samuel and
Isaiah, too. Soon we are introduced to better a response when G-d calls: "Hineni,
here I am."
Truly present. Truly in this moment. Truly awake to the wonders of G-d's world
and ready to do our part in serving G-d.
In the dramatic story of the binding and near sacrifice of Isaac, which we read
on the second day of Rosh Hashanah, the phase-hineni is repeated three times:
first, when God calls to Abraham and commands him to bring Isaac as a sacrifice.
Then, when Isaac turns to his father. Finally, when an angel calls from heaven
and tells Abraham not to sacrifice his son, for he and all his descendents will
be blessed because of his unswerving faith in God. To each address, Abraham
answers: "Hineni-Here I am."
I believe that the expression, "hineni-here I am," has three important
messages for us: to be present for our own souls, to be present for others,
and to be present for our community.
Many of us would say that spiritual life is a value, but how many minutes of
our day are devoted to the care of our souls? How often do we pause, take a
deep breath, attune to our senses, and say, "hineni-I'm truly here, truly
present in this moment?" It's important to dedicate some quiet time in
our lives each and every day, some inner Shabbat: praying, breathing, meditating,
studying Torah, performing a ritual like lighting the Shabbat candles, working
in the garden, or going for a walk and appreciating the beauties of God's creation.
One of the great gifts of our religion is the Shabbat, the Sabbath day. It's
like a day spa for the soul. But we also need to take "mini-Shabbats"
on each day of the week, to connect with nature, G-d, and our own souls.
Our synagogue is a resource center for Jewish spirituality. We have many services
and classes where you can nurture your soul. Our involvement with STAR Synagogue
will expand this year. Thanks to a grant from STAR, we will develop our "head,
heart, and hand program," which will include visiting scholars, a Jewish
Renewal Shabbat, and the arts. We will also participate in a nationwide initiative
called "Synaplex," in which we will offer unusual and creative new
programs for Shabbat. But I want to stress that we offer more than programs.
CARD offers programs, too. The synagogue offers continual opportunities to be
part of a warm, meaningful, authentic, and spiritual community. It can be true
nourishment for your soul.
Once we say Hineni to ourselves, once our lives have a spiritual center, we
can really be there for others. In our busy lives, we need to be present for
our families. I knew that I was in trouble when my husband read a draft of this
sermon, and then when I was reading the newspaper at the table told me that
I needed to close it and say "hineni" to the family.
This sense of presence is important every day, but all the more so when family
or friends are in a crisis. Sometimes people are reluctant to visit the sick
or to visit mourners, because they are worried about saying the "right
thing." There are no magic words to say, but you are speaking volumes by
just being present, holding someone's hand or just sitting there for a while.
In fact, when someone is in mourning, our tradition tells us not to say anything
until the mourner opens the conversation. The emphasis is all on presence-Hineni,
I'm here.
Judaism is a religion of being present for others, a religion of community.
We accepted the Torah at Sinai and made a covenant with God, not as lone individuals,
but as a community. Don't cut yourself off from the community, said our sages.
I tell my CSU students about my attendance policy in the words of Woody Allen:
90 percent of success is showing up. There is so much in our tradition about
the value of showing up, of being there.
There are a number of prayers that we are only allowed to say in a minyan. Tradition
tells us that just because a minyan-10 people, show up, we feel God's presence
more directly and we can truly sanctify God's name in a way that we simply can't
do as individuals. Because the Shechinah-the Divine Presence, the immanence
of God, the feeling that God is deep inside of us-is in every soul, and can
be felt many times more strongly when souls gather together, multiplying that
God-field.
I sometimes feel frustrated that so much of my work as a rabbi is getting people
to show up. I write newsletter articles and announcements, send e-mail reminders,
cajole people in hallways, make phone calls and ask my assistant to make more
phone calls. Along with a couple of our members, I even took a class on "marketing
as a mitzvah." That's our reality today. We are competing with so many
attractions in the secular world. It would be so much better if I could take
all that energy and put it into creating the experience for people when they
do show up.
Because, look at the incredible experiences that we have when people show up,
when we say "hineni." Whether it's the concluding service of Yom Kippur,
dancing with the Torah on Simchat Torah, a bar or bat mitzvah, or celebrating
together at Shabbat Across America, I can't think of a service or program at
CBI that had 100 or 200 people, where there wasn't a palpable excitement and
emotion, where people didn't comment how uplifting it was. They thanked me for
a wonderful service. I appreciate that, but it wasn't because of me; it was
because of we. It was the energy and excitement of being together in community,
of experiencing those sacred times with the congregation. It was the sense of
the divine presence in community.
It's also the case with our youth. When a group of teenagers come to Confirmation
class or BBYO, a sense of energy and community is created. We can call it a
social thing, but on a spiritual level we call it Ruah-group spirit.
Ruah is particularly important in the adolescent years. Kids will get
much of their Jewish identity at that point, not from the family, but from the
youth group, camp and teen programs.
Perhaps I'm preaching to the choir. You have already taken the first step. You
have said "hineni" by being here tonight. We all know that there are
hundreds of Jews in Chico who don't make that public commitment. It's incredibly
hard, once one has drifted away from Judaism, to step back in our door. It can
take years, and it may never happen. So what can we do?
In the words of Psalm 24 that we'll chant tonight: "lift up your heads,
o ye gates, and be lifted up, ye everlasting doors." We need to widen the
doors of our synagogue. We need to make the threshold lower, raise the door
higher, and create more pathways in so that people can say Hineni-I'm here.
Our mission statement describes us as a welcoming center for Jewish life. Now,
I read a lot of Jewish periodicals and I can tell you that virtually every synagogue
ad in American claims that its congregation is warm and welcoming. From my point
of view on the inside, CBI is warm and welcoming and heimish (that's
Yiddish for home-like).
But we need to be twice as warm and welcoming! In the summer, when I'm away,
I often visit congregations in other cities. Now, I'm not alienated from the
Jewish community. I walk in that door feeling confident as a Jew. Yet when I
visit a synagogue where I haven't been before, even I often feel insecure. Will
anyone say hello to me? They usually don't until I approach them. I've even
been at a synagogue where some people sat next to me, and then got up and left.
I wondered what was wrong with me. Maybe I should have used dial. What I come
away with is a little taste of what it's like to be the newcomer.
To be truly warm and welcoming, we need to invite our unaffiliated friends to
community events and attend with them. We need to have greeters and welcomers
at every service, but moreover, each CBI member should feel a part of the greeting
team of our congregation. We should invite new members of the community to our
homes and include them in our social circles.
It is a mitzvah, it is a way of saying to that visitor or new person: hineni-I'm
here for you, we're glad that you are here, and your presence is acknowledged
and appreciated. It makes a difference that you are here.
As we embark on the new year of 5767, I ask you to do a new kind of Teshuvah,
or turning. Turn inside. Ask yourself: Ayeka-Where are you? Where are you spiritually?
Do you make some time each day for your soul, for your inner life? Do you find
rest and renewal each Shabbat? Are you taking advantage of the many spiritual
resources our community has to offer?
Are you present for your loved ones on an everyday basis? Are you present for
friends, family, and members of the congregation when they are going through
a difficult time?
Can you show up a little more often this year and be present for our community,
so that we can create more of those sacred and beautiful experiences together?
And most of all, can you-can all of us-be present for the one who feels like
a stranger, but is really longing to connect? Can we make our congregation a
place of true welcome, so that others can also be present?
If we are present for ourselves, our families and our communities, we will be
much stronger and more flexible in facing the many challenges that the larger
world presents to us today.
As we begin the New Year, let us ask ourselves: Where are we? And let each of
us respond, in our hearts and in our actions: Hineni-Here I am.