This morning I watched Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu speak at the United Nations. We will each have our own views on what he said as we continue to be challenged by the ongoing Israel-Hamas war. Although impossible, before reacting to his comments, I encourage you to read/watch the Rosh Hashanah sermon from Rabbi Angela Buchdahl (who grew up in Tacoma) of Central Synagogue in New York -- “The Cries of Isaac and Ishmael”. It is thought provoking and worth the time.

Yom Kippur always feels to me like a long, deep breath after the joyful sweetness of Rosh Hashanah. We hug family and friends, share wishes for a healthy and happy year, dip apples in honey, and then — on the tenth day of the Hebrew month of Tishrei — Yom Kippur -- we gather to look inward at who we have been and who we hope to become. 

There is a quietness to Yom Kippur that I find comforting. Even with the fast, the holiday slows us down and gives us room to breathe -- honestly. When our prayers ask us to “afflict our souls,” I think of it less as punishment and more as an invitation to stop and acknowledge our missteps – and then try to return. In my mind, it is a kindness we owe ourselves.

Teshuvah — returning — is the essential work. It is not a quick “I am sorry.” It is a process -- name what we did…feel true remorse…and commit to change. I try to live by this, but every year I still fall short. However, those moments of genuine return are special. They do not make the past vanish, but they allow me to remake the future.

One thing our tradition insists is that repentance be interpersonal. If we have harmed another, we must go to them and ask for forgiveness. It is not easy. I have had those conversations and made those phone calls myself — the ones that make you take a deep gulp. There is a humility in reaching out that I treasure. Sometimes the person you hurt needs time. Sometimes they will not be ready. But the act of owning your part and listening to how you caused pain, is an act of generosity. It reinforces that feelings and dignity matter.

Yizkor — the memorial prayer — is a tender moment for me on Yom Kippur. Saying “remember” for those we have lost brings them into the room with us again. I think of my parents (my mom passed away 18 years ago and my father 13 years ago) -- their gifts, their flaws, their guidance, and (what no child wants to admit) how similar I am to them. Yizkor affords me the opportunity to genuinely think about them, thank them, and think about the things I wish I had done differently. I know people often feel that tug — the complex mix of gratitude, regret, and love. Yizkor is permission to feel all of it.

As a child, I learned a gentle lesson from Yizkor -- if your parents were still alive, you stepped outside the sanctuary. That simple act of separation taught me early on about compassion — to know that people in that room carry the loss and will be supported by community, while others outside know that one day their family loss will occur. As I grew older and experienced the loss of my own parents, I learned that although grief is deeply personal, it is the power of a kehillah, community, that helps us heal since we are never alone. 

I appreciate how our High Holiday prayers pair teshuvah (return) with tefillah (prayer) and tzedakah (justice/charity). Those three — return, prayer, and justice — provide an excellent roadmap. Prayer centers our intentions; tzedakah moves those intentions into the world. Yom Kippuris not a private spiritual exercise. Yom Kippur pushes us outward. True teshuvah changes how we behave towards others -- family, friends, neighbors, and strangers. It nudges us to act with more kindness, listen more patiently, and give more generously.

As I get older, I better understand -- forgiveness is a gift! It is also challenging work! When someone forgives, they allow the relationship to be rebuilt. When someone is forgiven, they are challenged to live differently. I have personally done and watched others rebuild friendships after messy rifts and watched parents teach children to ask for forgiveness early and often. This work never ends and provides key role modeling on how we can always better ourselves. 

There is a communal piece that I do not want to overlook. As I mentioned earlier, Yom Kippur takes place on the tenth of Tishrei. But why that day? The Torah tells us: Vayomer HaShem salachti ki d’varecha – “And God said: I have forgiven as you asked.” This was the day God forgave the Jews for the sin of the golden calf. That story humbles us. It shows that even when we collectively fail, there is a path back. Our individual actions can affect more than just ourselves. And, when we choose repair, we strengthen the fabric that binds us all.

I often ask myself, what can I do, and each of us do, during these “Days of Awe?” Start small. Call someone you have been meaning to apologize to. Share real honest feedback with someone you care about. Commit to a cause that speaks to your values. Give a charitable contribution to an organization of your choice. Promise one concrete change -- one of mine is listening without interrupting -- and commit to it for the year. Those small choices add up.

Yom Kippur is a serious holiday, but not joyless. It calls for courage and kindness at the same time. We are asked to face our shortcomings and to nurture hope. When the fast ends (7:40 p.m.) and we hear the blasts of the shofar, we say, “L’shanah haba’ah b’Yerushalayim” – next year in Jerusalem. For me that phrase is more than a hope for a place -- it is a plea for a better year, for peace, for more kindness, for enhanced safety, and as I wrote last week, more friendships in our Jewish community.

May we be brave enough to say we are sorry, generous enough to forgive, and humble enough to change. May the commitments we make today take root and bear fruit in our personal lives and in our Greater Portland Jewish community.

G’mar chatimah tovah — may you be sealed in the Book of Life for a good year – and have a meaningful fast.

Shabbat shalom.

PS – Women’s Philanthropy has its Impact Event on October 22. This special evening is for women to come together for fun, camaraderie, and joy. You are the change agents! There is a special power of women coming together. Plus, Lindsay Gottlieb, USC women’s basketball coach, will inspire you with her personal story! Register here!

PPS – Join our community’s special, apolitical commemoration of October 7, 2023 on Sunday, October 5 at 7:00 p.m. at Congregation Neveh Shalom. We will share stories of courage and remember the victims of October 7. Registration is required.