Heller Rosh Hashanah 5775, Day 1, p. 1
A Finished Product or a Work in Progress?
Delivered by Rabbi Joshua Heller
Congregation B’nai Torah
First Day Rosh Hashanah, 5775
Are you a finished product, or are you a work in progress?
To understand the question, and maybe even answer it, think back to a question
that you were probably asked when you were a child, and that you in turn have
probably asked many a child or teen: “what do you want to be when you grow
up?” The answers evolve as we get older: fireman, astronaut, ballerina, baseball
player, management consultant. My favorite is the kid who tells his parents “I
want to be a rabbi.” His parents, after protesting “what kind of job is that for a nice
Jewish boy” ask him “why?” He explains “Well, I have to go to synagogue
anyway, and I feel like it would be more fun to stand and talk than to sit and
listen!”
Eventually, if only by default, we come up with our own answers to that question.
We get the test results, the guidance counselors tell us we should be pre-med,
teachers, accountants, attorneys, lumberjacks, architects, run a pet store or a cheese
shop, whatever it might be. There is an assumption implicit in the question: that
when you grow up, there’s a point in time when you become whatever it is you are
going to be, and your process of maturation and development is complete. Put a
fork in you, you’re done! You are a finished product. There’s nothing left to learn
or add.
But is that really true? Is there ever really a point where you have attained your
full potential? Not just professionally, but personally? Intellectually? Spiritually?
And not just you. What about our community? What about the world?
This year, as we enter 5775, the season of teshuvah, repentance, are you a finished
product, or are you a work in progress?
This week, I saw a funny and inspiring video from Israel that exemplifies this
question.1 This video stars by Shimon Peres, who at age 91, has just finished
serving as President of Israel. He was brought to Israel when he was 9, and he had
an astonishing career- he began as a dairy hand and a shepherd. He was a man of
war, a soldier, an arms trader, the father of Israel’s top secret nuclear program. He
became a politician, a diplomat, and ultimately, a man of peace. The video
fancifully has him trying to figure out what he will do now, after the presidency.
1
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__7b9O8k1tw
Heller Rosh Hashanah 5775, Day 1, p. 2
You see him sitting in an employment office, and, after being told that his skills
won’t transfer to the private sector, trying his hand at many new options, including
gas station attendant, pizza delivery man, stand-up comic, and skydiver. In each
one he offers aphorisms and advice, applying the lessons of his remarkable career
to the mundane world. Who knew that being a grocery clerk was like organizing
the raid on Entebbe? Who could have imagined that working the metal detector in
a government office was a reminder that the intellect is the most powerful weapon,
and that many go unarmed? One may agree or disagree with some of the political
or diplomatic stands he has taken over the year, but you must respect the fact that
he has devoted a life of service to Israel, and shows no sign of slowing down.
At age 91, President, Prime Minister, winner of the Nobel Prize, Nuclear Diplomat,
former Dairy hand. Shimon Peres is not a finished product- he is a work in
progress.
The Torah portion we read today helps us understand that message as well. We
read that, at Sarah’s request, Abraham has sent Ishmael and Ishmael’s mother
Hagar off into the wilderness. Ishmael is a negative influence on the household, a
possible threat to Isaac. The mother and son wander in the desert, and as Ishmael
is about to die, God sees him “B’asher hu sham”- as he is at that moment. The
angel points out a well. It is not just enough to save his life, but she must also
fulfill the larger promise. Ishmael, the outcast child in the wilderness, ultimately
becomes a mighty warrior, and father to a great nation.
Ishmael, dying at the well, was not a finished product, he was a work in progress.
When we think about the High Holiday season, and think of repentance,
repentance is ultimately about the idea that you can change, you can do something
different next year from what you did this year. You can be more than we you
today.
On the High Holidays, you are not a finished product, you are a work in progress.
And yet, that story is troubling as well- both Ishmael and brother Isaac have their
paths laid out for them, implied in their very names. Ishmael’s mother has already
been warned that he will be a wild man, prone to violence and conflict, and indeed,
that becomes his legacy. Is our potential bounded? Perhaps there is a point where
no matter what we do, we can grow no more? Last year, my colleague, Rabbi
Michael Bernstein gave a wonderful sermon on this point, juxtaposing a stunning
philosophical nugget from the teachings of the Hassdic master, Reb Tzadok
Hacohen of Lublin, with a quote from the 2008 movie Kung Fu Panda. In the
interest of clarity, let me cut right to the latter. Two of the characters are looking at
Heller Rosh Hashanah 5775, Day 1, p. 3
a peach tree (it must be noted for those familiar with Atlanta, that we are not
talking about Peachtree Road, Peachtree Center, Peachtree Parkway, Peachtree
Dunwoody, Industrial, Corners, or even the intersection of Peachtree and
Peachtree, but an actual Peach tree, of which Atlanta has none). “Ah, yes. But no
matter what you do, that seed will grow to be a peach tree. You may wish for an
apple or an orange, but you will get a peach.” So much is beyond our control- on
what soil will it fall? Will it be watered and tended? How will it grow? When
will the fruit be plucked? Even if we are lucky enough to fully recognize the
remarkable potential packed within a seed, from the moment it is planted, has preordained what fruit it may bear?
There are indeed limits that each of us face. It became clear to me fairly early on
in life that despite having 2 inches on Spudd Webb (3 according to my driver’s
license) I would never play in the NBA. Do we really have no choice as to
whether to be a peach, or the pits? I would argue that in fact, the process of
teshuvah recognizes life’s limitations, but says that they aren’t as important as you
might think. Teshuvah is translated as repentance, but it literally means
“returning.” Some faith traditions hold that human beings are inherently flawed,
and that it is only through divine grace that we may find a good path. In contrast,
we believe that we each start off good. No child is born turned to evil. While we
can always seek God’s assistance, we have the capacity to choose good or evil at
each moment. Even when we wander far from the path of goodness, the idea of
teshuvah reassures you that there is still a trail of breadcrumbs, a path that we can
beat to God’s side. Teshuvah is about returning to our truest, good self. It is about
clearing away the negatives so that we may actualize the tremendous, unrealized
potential within ourselves.
We are judged, not based on the absolutes, but based on how true we are to our
own personal ideals.
A famous story is told of the Hassidic master, Reb Zusya of Anipoli. He was
dying, surrounded by his students. They were overcome by grief at his imminent
passing. Then, he too began to wail and moan. One of his students asked. Reb
Zusia, why are you crying? You have lived a righteous life, you have raised up
worthy students, and you will be received into the world to come!”
Reb Zusya said: “when I meet my Maker, if God asks me ‘why were you not like
Moses’- I can answer Him- ‘you did not give me the opportunities that you gave
Moses! You gave me no miracles to lead the Jewish people into the promised
land.’ If God asks me ‘why were you not Abraham’- I will say- ‘Abraham had the
merit of finding God on his own, and endured many covenants, tests and trials.’
Heller Rosh Hashanah 5775, Day 1, p. 4
But if the Master of the Universe should happen to ask me ‘why were you not
Zusia? Why didn't you fulfil the task that only Zusia could have fulfilled?’ It is of
this question that I am in dread, for I have no worthy answer.”
On these High Holidays, we are judged not based on whether we accomplished
some great and lofty goal, but on whether we even have reached for what was in
our grasp.
That process of Teshuvah, of seeking a path to our true selves, of reaching for who
we were meant to be, doesn’t stop when we hit one Rosh Hashanah. It doesn’t stop
when we reach one goal.
A woman is in the supermarket, shopping for turkeys. She grabs a 16-pounder and
asks “do these get any bigger?” The clerk responds “no ma’am, they’re dead.” If
you aren’t growing, you are dying. Hillel, the great sage, said it in a different
way2: “D’lo Mosif, Yasif”- if we do not continue to add, we are finished.
My sister, Dr. Miriam Heller Stern, pointed out an article by Tracy Cutchlow3,
differentiating between a fixed mindset and a growth mindset. A fixed mindset
happens when you praise a child based on accomplishment and ability, when you
recognize success by saying “Wow, you are so smart!” The implication is that
either you “have it” or you don’t- if you have to work hard, then you can’t be very
good at the task, and it probably isn’t worth doing.
In contrast, a growth mindset occurs when you praise effort. The implication is that
the harder you work, the better job you are going to do. If you are praised based
on effort, then you are likely to take on more and more challenging tasks, you are
likely to grow and take risks. If you are praised only for accomplishment, then you
become terrified of failure.
There are so many times where we set a goal and we attain it, and we haven’t
really thought about what will come after it. So, for example, we devote untold
hours, and dollars to planning a wedding. We plan out the menu, the flowers and
the music. I attend many incredible celebrations, full of love, joy and song, eating,
drinking and dancing.4
Pirkei Avot 1:13.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/tracy-cutchlow/why-some-kids-try-harder-and-somekids-give-up_b_5826816.html
4 At this point in the delivery, the sermon was interrupted by several minutes of heckling
from my wife, regarding our wedding some 15 years ago. Without further rubbing salt into
old wounds, I would note that our florist went out of business the day after our wedding.
2
3
Heller Rosh Hashanah 5775, Day 1, p. 5
I will often ask couples- so how will things be different the next morning after the
wedding? Nowadays, for many couples, not much changes. The bride and groom
often already share an address, and the biggest thrill on the wedding night is
opening the gift envelopes. “Oh my God, your aunt Sheila is really generous.” The
greatest disappointment is the catering bill. “Who knew Jews could drink so
much!?” We know exactly where the bridesmaids will stand, we have crafted the
set-list of toasts and dances. Imagine if you put as much effort and expense into
perfecting the rest of your marriage, just a bit each day, as you did into those first 5
or 6 hours. Imagine if you spent as much on flowers over the course of a marriage
as you did on that one day?
Are your personal relationships a finished product, or a work in progress?
To take another example: we spend months, years, preparing for a bar or bat
mitzvah. The young man or woman chants the prayers with skill and grace, offers
sage words and receives an attractive tote bag. That night, they are lifted up on the
chair, and everyone goes home with the souvenir socks or sweatshirt. We feel a
tremendous sense of accomplishment, but then what happens. Is that all they ever
know? Often when I speak to Jewish adults, I realize that they have been done a
disservice- they know everything that one should know about Judaism- at age 13.
But they aren’t 13, they are 33 or 53, or 73. What if they had kept going? What if
they had built new skills, to really own the service and not lead it just that one
time? What if they had learned the portions beyond that one that they were stuck
with, the one about leprosy? What if they had grappled with God under the
guidance of our rich philosophical and theological tradition? What if they could
penetrate behind the metaphors and oversimplifications that work for children, to
understand the uncertainties and complexities that lead to a different kind of
mature faith?
Is your spiritual life a finished product, or a work in progress?
We have to continue growing in our spiritual lives; if we are not growing, we are
shrinking. Franz Rosenzweig, the Jewish existentialist philosopher, was an
incredible model of this ideal. He lived in Germany, about a century ago, at a time
when it was all too tempting to leave Judaism to “fit in.” Indeed, he thought about
converting to Christianity, but he ultimately realized that it was in Judaism that he
could become his best self. He wrestled with what it meant to be observant. One
friend asked him if he was wearing tefillin- the black boxes, mezuzahs for the arm
and head, that add such a powerful tactile dimension to the prayer experience. His
response was “not yet.” He knew that spiritually, he could be and do far more,
Heller Rosh Hashanah 5775, Day 1, p. 6
than he was doing, and that even if he could not change everything about himself
today.
Franz Rosenzweig knew that he was not a finished product, he was a work in
progress.
I would argue that every single one of us in this room, myself included, is a work
in progress. That each of us, to be on the path to fulfilling our full spiritual
potential must have a “not yet.” Maybe your “not yet” could be the same as
Rosenzweig’s. Maybe you are looking at tefillin or daily prayer in general as
something that could be meaningful, but you can’t quite figure out how to fit it into
the hectic pattern of a daily schedule with so many moving parts.
Maybe you already keep kosher, Or perhaps it is a “not yet” as you know deep
down that there is an opportunity to use each meal as an opportunity to embrace
the sacred, and sanctify the basic biological function of eating, but you are not
ready to make the commitment, the dishes.
Our tradition teaches that there are 613 commandments. Some are no-brainers.
After all, you’re doing at least one by being here today. Others are “not nevers” or
are a sort of “next year in Jerusalem”- we are enthusiastic about them in principle,
and talk about them every year, but they remain a distant ideal.” Are you stuck
being the Jew you are today, or can you be more? This year, can you turn a “not
yet” into Hillel’s “if not now, when?” Can you drop one thing from your diet?
Add 15 minutes of worship? Read one Jewish book? Give to one worthy cause?
In the coming year, will you merely exist, or will you grow and do more. Will you
be a human being, or a human becoming?
I believe that the synagogue is one of the tools that we can use to become who we
are, to make progress in our personal work. Our synagogue, too, is a work in
progress.
As you’ve heard, we’ve made some important changes in the physical space of our
sanctuary. We’ve upgraded energy efficiency, handicapped accessibility, seating,
but we’re not done. We’re a work in progress in big ways. In December, I will be
riding a wrecking ball through that temporary wall over there, like a modestlydressed Miley Cyrus. We will have a Beit Midrash for worship and study, and
other, flexible spaces that will allow us to accommodate more adult learning and
religious school classes; more simchas and social action.
Ultimately, though, the message of teshuvah is that being a work in progress is not
about change for the sake of change. It’s not about becoming something different-
Heller Rosh Hashanah 5775, Day 1, p. 7
it’s about aspiring to be the truest form of who we truly are. That’s why, in this
sanctuary, we kept the ark and the eternal light, and the menorah. That’s why we
kept the center Bimah, even though it meant losing seats. We are looking for our
own unique balance of Peachy and Preachy.
That is a process that is never complete. As we look ahead, by the time we join
together next year, we will have completed all that I just described. However, we
know that to be our truest selves, we must not stop becoming. We have to look the
future- what do we need to do to our educational wing, to serve and inspire the
youngest members of our community? What do we need to do to our
administrative wing, to develop spaces for our staff and volunteers to get work
done and support everything we do together? Our Mikvah, that serves our
congregation and 20 others in Atlanta, is at the end of its service life. There is a
tremendous community effort underway, with $300,000 already committed from
the larger community, to re-invent the Mikvah as a beautiful center for education
and spirituality.
Much of the effort in our congregation over the last several years has been devoted
to physical growth. That is important, but is only sustainable for so long. After
all, as human beings, we do not aspire to continue growing physically. After a few
delicious Yom Tov meals, my kittel gets a little tighter, but that doesn’t make me a
better person.
Growth can mean a lot of different things. A bonsai tree, limited by its tiny pot
and fanatical pruning, is a thing of longevity and intense beauty. It grows inward,
but does not bear fruit. Or then you have the crepe myrtles in my yard. Each year,
they burst forth in a riot of branches and berries, and eventually will either become
unbalanced and die, or will undergo a ritual we call the “crepe murder” as their
whole top is whacked off, leaving a crown of amputated stumps. Or consider a
tree in an orchard, growing a bit taller each year, where careful pruning ensures the
tastiest, most nourishing fruit, while maintaining the flow that connects leaves that
reach upward to heaven with the roots that sustain them.
As a congregation, we can think about being a work in progress, not just in terms
of our physical building, but in terms of becoming the best we can be. The
physical efforts we are enjoying today are the culmination of a strategic planning
effort that began 7 years ago, as we committed to build on our spirit of welcoming
and continue to welcome new members. We wanted to be sure we had the spiritual
leadership to serve our community properly, and so Rabbi Kenter joined our team.
We also realized that we were evolving as a congregation, and that, in a gradual
way, sensitive to the past and to the future, we wanted to move to become a
Heller Rosh Hashanah 5775, Day 1, p. 8
congregation where men and women could participate equally. We have actually
accomplished all of those goals.
Now, entering that effort again, and a strategic planning group is looking at the
mission and vision that will carry us forward. The survey just closed, with input
from over 600 of our congregants. I am eager for the committee to report its
results. Look at the next 7 years, our focus will not be on our physical growth, but
on the spiritual. Not about the quantitative, but the qualitative. It’s not just about
how tall the tree is, but the kind of shade that it offers for those seeking shelter
from the elements. Not just about how many leaves and blossoms, but whether
their colors inspire a sense of wonder. Not just about how big the fruit is, but how
it tastes and nourishes. That the tree’s roots and its leaves remain connected,
reaching for the heavens and the illumination of new light even while remaining
firm in the soil from which it grew. Now of course, in our congregation, growing a
tree like that takes a lot of saps running around.
So, as we enjoy this beautiful space today and beyond, we ask: How can this
congregation help each of you become the Jew you want to be? How can we help
you find your Rosenzwiegian “not yet” and turn it into something else? Maybe it
is a change you can start immediately, in the spirit of Hillel “if not now, when?” or
perhaps it’s an aspiration further out on the horizon, in the spirit of “next year in
Jerusalem?” How can we help you blossom into your own fullest and truest self?
The synagogue is meant to be a world in microcosm. Today is Rosh Hashanah, the
birthday of the world. The world, too, is a work in progress. Despite all of its
beauty, it is plagued by hatred and hunger, disease and despair. It is tempting to
simply give up hope, pull the covers up over our heads. We can draw some
strength from Pirkei Avot, which teaches Lo Aleicha hamelacha Ligmor, V’lo ata
Ben Chorin Lehibatel Mimena- it is not your responsibility to finish the work, but
you are not free to refrain from it. The world is a work in progress, not a finished
product and you have your part to perform.
When we speak of “Tikkun Olam,” perfecting the world, we understand that
perfecting the world is an essential part of perfecting the self.
You are a part of a world, you are a part of a congregation, that are works in
progress, that have their flaws and imperfections. But this is the birthday of the
world, a reminder that this is a world that God made, a world that can be made
perfect. In this world, it is hard enough to be, what they would call in Yiddish, a
mensch- to be a human being. Can you stretch further, and be not a human being,
but a human becoming. Can you find your “not yet” and make it your “if not now,
when?” or your “next year in Jerusalem?”
Heller Rosh Hashanah 5775, Day 1, p. 9
Improving the world, improving the little part of the world that we can touch, is
part of the process of teshuvah, of returning to the essence of who we are meant to
be. The synagogue community is the support system, the scaffolding, upon which
we build our new selves, and it is the lever by which we can exert our force to
make a difference in a much larger world. We are not Bonsai trees, constrained in
tiny pots with God trimming each limb to perfection. We grow, buffeted by wind
and rain, keeping a firm grip on the soil that sustains us even as we stretch towards
the light. Each of us has the capacity to grow just a bit more, to bear nourishing
and sweet fruit in the new year. Because, we are not finished products, we are
works in progress.