
(From The World of the High Holy Days by Jack Riemer, pp.74-75 A famous rabbi was once imprisoned. The warden of the prison fancied himself to be an intellectual of sorts, and, so, when he heard that a distinguished rabbi was in his prison, he decided to pay him a visit.
He came into the Rabbi’s cell and introduced himself. He said, “I have been browsing through your Bible and I have found a number of logical inconsistencies. For example, when Adam sins, he hides. And God says to him: ‘Where are you?’ Now if God is really omniscient, as you Jews claim God is, why does God have to ask Adam where he is? Doesn’t God know?” The warden asked his question and then he sat back to see how the rabbi would get out of this logical dilemma.
The rabbi looked at him and said: “I will answer your question if you will answer mine first. Do you believe that the Bible is not just history but that it is also destiny? Do you believe that the Bible speaks to every person in every generation and not just to Adam?
The warden said: “I suppose so.”
“Then it is,” said the rabbi, “as if God were speaking to you. It is as if God were saying to you: You are forty-four-and-a-half years old. What are you doing with your life? Where are you?”
When the warden heard his own exact age mentioned, for a moment a look of fear came over him, but then he shook it off. He got up and patted the rabbi on the back and said: “That was a clever answer,” and made his way out of the cell.
But every so often after that experience, he would wake up in the middle of the night and hear that question, where are you?
This is the question each one of us needs to answer as a new year begins. With the incredible pace of our lives throughout the year, we can avoid the question by keeping super-busy. If we work hard enough, if we run around fast enough, if we chauffeur or carpool to enough places, commute far enough and long enough, if we eat and drink enough, if we exercise our angst away, we can try to avoid the question altogether. But every so often, when we are alone with ourselves after a long day’s effort, just as we’re about to drop off to sleep, or just when we wake from a night’s rest and we have moments to ponder the coming events in our day, we might hear that question reverberating: Where are you?
And when a new year comes, when we finish a Jewish calendar and throw it away, when we realize that we are one year older, one year closer to the end, when we realize that we have made an accounting of the profits and the losses in our business or for the tax man, but have not done that with our lives, the question comes back to us—where are you?
And what do we say? How will we answer? What will we say when we reflect back on tonight’s sermon? We can avoid the question if we want to by talking about whether the rabbi preached too long or too short, or whether the cantor sang well; but somehow, throughout tonight and the morrow---indeed, for the next ten days, the question will keep coming back: Where are you?
Like a menu at the tops of our computer screens, a list of other items drops down when we approach the “where are you?” question. That menu includes questions like: What are we dedicating our time to? What are we doing with the potentials with which God has imbued us and which make us each unique people in this universe? To what have we given ourselves? And do those endeavors have value in our lives and in the lives of those we love? Do they contribute to the health of our family, the wholeness of our congregation, or the welfare of others in our community?
So much in our days and years is frivolous. And while we all definitely have the need to relax and enjoy life, to get out and smell those roses, still and all, if this is the sum total of what our time on Earth amounts to, can we claim to have used God’s gift of life wisely?
We could certainly consider the lives of our sports heroes as examples. A pro-football personage like Terrel Owens or a basketball star like Carmello Anthony, both of whom have been blessed with incredible natural talent, may well come to the end of their playing days amounting to little more than pouting, disruptive, spoiled and ego-centric children. Yes, we are all dazzled by their accomplishments on the field or the court, but it is the arena of life that counts more. Did they give back to their communities? If so, how? Did they inspire children by being stand-up role models for them, by urging them, by example, to apply their skills and work more for the team than for themselves? Did they help to build something of lasting value in the cities for which they played? Is there a hospital ward that is better for their visits?...a cause that is several thousands or millions of dollars richer because of their endorsements, their personal philanthropy and community outreach? Are there other lives that are better for their having been on this earth?
Sports record books and video-taped highlights are nice mementoes. Lives touched and societies improved are more the materials of the life records that truly count. It’s the blood-drives, the houses we’ve helped build for the homeless, the food stuffs we’re gathering and giving during these holidays to Jewish Family Service, the time our Teens spend each summer at Camp Rainbow with kids who have cancer, the food and flowers that we give through our Caring Committee to those in our own congregation who are facing some debilitating trials in their lives; it’s the time we donate through volunteering to help on various other committees here at B’nai Chaim, and it’s deeds like what Hal Schwartz and his family, Karen, Jamie, Bari, Ari, Edyn and Daniel have done by donating the lovely sculpture that now proudly hangs there by the exit and adorns that wall of our sanctuary in a most spectacular way. This is a special piece which depicts various facets of Jewish life and I commend it to you as we begin these most holy days here in this House of God together.
It’s all these things and more that redound back to us and reverberate in our own ears to say: “Yes, you did something worthwhile. You are someone worthwhile! ‘You done good’. You, indeed, are somewhere! You can feel good about that because you did something for yourself, your family, your community and your congregation.
At the end of the day, we are accountable on two levels. One is to ourselves and the goals we have set for ourselves. The other is to God who gave us life and who holds certain expectations that are written in Torah for us. When we take account of our successes and our failings, then we can and should use these ten days to feel satisfied with what we are doing well in our lives, and also shore up what needs to be corrected and changed.
In the silence of our souls, without bluff and without self deception, let us each strive to answer the question of where we are on our life’s journey in the days of the New Year that now, tonight, begin. When the shofar blasts its call tomorrow, may we each be able to respond, “Hineni”…here we are! We know who we are and we know where it is we stand on our life’s journey as we look forward to a wonderful New Year.