It’s that time of year again…S’lichot (or Selichot), the time of year when Jews begin preparing for the High Holy Days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. The first night of S’lichot was last Saturday. I chose not to attend services this year, although last year I was involved in leading them. This year I stayed home with my family. It was the first time in weeks…maybe months…that we all had an evening together to watch a movie. So, I wasn’t reciting the petitionary prayers Jews traditionally recite on that night, I was curled up in a chair i my living room, my daughter and husband on the couch with the cat, and my son in another chair, all watching a movie, eating ice cream, chatting, and watching a movie together. I wasn’t praying, repenting, petitioning God. But I was doing what I was supposed to be doing: trying to be honest with myself and with those I love and generally to do a better job of being me.
You see, my biggest “sin” (Hebrew has no real word for sin; the word used – chet – is an archery term that means to miss the mark.) lies in rushing through my life and not spending enough time with my family, not paying attention to my family or appreciating my family. On this night I was honest: I felt I “should” go to S’lichot services, but I wanted to stay home with my family, and staying home felt like the right thing to do. (Ah…you could say that was a cop out since services started at 10 p.m., and staying home definitely was easier. But how many more opportunities do I have to be home my with teenage kids?) I took the evening to beginning my S’lichot work. I focused on my kids. I spent the evening with them. I began “doing” what I wanted to do more of this new Jewish year. I set a new target, I aimed and I shot. This particular time I hit the mark. Hopefully, I’ll continue to do so during the year.
The High Holy Days ask us to do the hardest work of all: To really be honest not only with ourselves but with others. We have to search our souls for all the times we weren’t the best we could be and then “fess up” and actually admit it not only to ourselves but to others, as well as to God. We have to try and make amends for our bad behavior and set a new bar for our behavior in the coming year. The latter part feels easy at this moment compared to really looking at myself.
I can tell you that when I get really honest with myself, I don’t like what I see — at least not the me of this past year. I was hurried and harried and focused on work most of the time. I was angry and depressed and generally not happy. (I could blame this on perimenopausal hormones gone wild, which they have, but I could have tried harder to change my attitude and do more to make myself feel better.) I haven’t been a good wife. I’ve been impatient and have lacked compassion with the man I love, who I know has been going through a bad patch. I’ve been judgemental of those I love. I’ve not helped as much as I would like or could. I haven’t done the things I love and enjoy. I have not practiced what I preach. I have not changed when I knew I could and knew how to change. I haven’t helped create enough change. I have not lived my life fully. I have not been the best me possible.
Yes, there are many positive things I havedone. I could pat myself on the back for those, it’s true. But the High Holy Days are not about us patting ourselves on the back. In a sense, that’s for God to do. We are told that on Rosh Hashanah, God writes us into the proverbial Book of Life and then, depending upon our actions during the ten days between the Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and Yom Kippur, the Day of Repentance, God seals our fate for the coming year. Thus, the good things we do during the year might be taken into account, but it the work we do during the High Holy Days — the degree of honesty with which we look at ourselves, our actions and our lives and the degree of desire and commitment we have to repent and to change — that makes the difference in whether God thinks we should live or die, be blessed or damned during the next 12 months.
Now, I know the Book of Life is symbolic, but what it represents is huge. It tells us that our desire and commitment to honestly look at ourselves and to improve — to reach our human potential and to live our lives fully — is what matters most. That serves as our purpose here on earth. Our good deeds and right actions are nice, but our constant striving to do better and be better, that’s the point.
