Rosh HaShanah: Transformation
Sermon by Rabbi Jennifer Hartman
2015/5776
This summer I had the opportunity to hike in the Dolomites, a beautiful region of the Alps located in northern Italy. I was amazed to learn from one of our guides, that two hundred and eighty million years ago, this mountain range was completely under water. The white, rock-like material that comprises these mountains is actually sea coral. It was incredible to think about how much change has taken place since that time. The continents moved, the water receded, and the mountaintops are now as high as 11,000 feet above sea level. Rather than scuba diving down we were climbing up, rather breathlessly at times, to see the stunning views. Canvassing this mountain range, hiking up farther and farther until we were above the tree line, seeing places where streams had slowly eroded the limestone and the way the rocks had settled into place, I could not help but think about the broader issue of how change occurs in the natural world… and in us.
One thing I realized, as I spent five days surrounded by the serenity and the beauty of this vast mountain range is that nature, when left alone, evolves very slowly. As we hiked, higher and higher, day after day, pushing ourselves to take one more step, willing our lungs to fully take in the thinning air, wondering why uber was not there to quickly take us home, I realized that we – humans - also change slowly - both our minds and our bodies. It takes a lot of time and patience for us to change our mindset, our thought process, the lens through which we see the world. And it certainly takes a lot of time and patience for us to lose weight, to build strength, to gain endurance. I learned this as each morning I woke up and thought to myself, there is no way that I can do this again, and each evening as my calves and my knees and my feet ached I thought I cannot believe what I was able to accomplish today. It was not until the last day when my muscles and joints hurt a little bit less that I knew I could conquer one more peak, that I appreciated that the reward would be incredible. It took perseverance to reach this understanding. If I had given up just a day earlier I never would have realized the full reward.
The transformation that took place to the dolomite mountain range and to me while hiking there made me remember a wonderful TED talk I had heard about one man’s personal transformation. Today, this man is a prolific author and inspirational speaker who travels to inner-city schools around the country helping students understand they have many paths from which to choose. This man, Shaka Senghor, knows this because he spent 23 years in jail.
Senghor was raised in Detroit. He was an honor roll student with dreams of becoming a doctor when his parents divorced leaving him angry and confused. In his teen years, he fell in with a rough crowd and at 17 he was shot multiple times. No one was there to help him through this trauma and instead of confronting his fears and anxieties he became irrational and paranoid. Fourteen months later, at 19, his life changed forever when he shot and killed a man. Senghor was convicted of murder and entered prison bitter, enraged and hurt. He blamed everyone else for his position in life. In jail Senghor fell deeper and deeper into trouble. He ran the black market, he sold drugs and he broke all the rules. Eventually he was sent to solitary confinement for 7 and a half years. It was during this time that he received a letter from his 8-year-old son. His son began the letter by writing, in capital letters, MOM TOLD ME WHY YOU ARE IN PRISON - MURDER. His son went on to say, Dad, don’t kill, God is watching you. In that moment Senghor learned that his son now knew what he had done and defined him by his action.
Senghor was transformed by this letter in a way he did not know possible. It struck a chord in him that caused him to reexamine his life. He allowed the words of his son to touch his soul. He did not become defensive but rather contemplated the message as he stared down at the letters. He decided he would not allow them to define him.
He needed to take a step back and examine himself in order to bring about a transformation. For Senghor this process was long, hard and included four key components – (1) mentors, (2) books, (3) familial support, and (4) writing. Senghor had great mentors, including his son, who spoke to him honestly and candidly enabling him to see uncomfortable truths about his life. He read inspiring books and poems by brilliant black scholars, philosophers and activists including Malcolm X. His readings showed him he had other choices available to him and other, more fulfilling, paths to walk. His family stood by his side while he was in jail, especially his father who was with him every step of the way. This gave him confidence when stumbled and support when he felt discouraged. Lastly, Senghor wrote, he kept a journal of all of his actions. The process of writing down his experiences helped him to confront his choices and to realize his need to atone, to acknowledge that he had been hurt and had hurt others, to take the time to apologize even if he received no response in return. This allowed Senghor to free himself of his harmful past deeds, to no longer be held hostage to his prior actions. In this way, when he was finally released from prison twenty years later, he was able to begin a new life as an author and speaker – a positive and productive member of society. Senghor was able to do what we are asked to do during the High Holidays, to see life with clear eyes and to begin, slowly, to change the parts of ourselves that are destructive and detrimental. He began to see the potential blessing and burden in each moment and chose the blessings. He learned that selecting good over evil, is a matter of life and death.
So, you may be asking, what does a man who committed murder and a mountain range have in common? They both teach us that to truly improve, to truly change, takes time. Today, as we celebrate the beginning of the Jewish year 5776 we search our souls and cleanse our hearts of the trials of the previous year. We have actions for which we need to atone, there are mistakes we still need to rectify. We ask God to be lenient with us as we go through our process of teshuva, repentance. Yet, we know that to truly improve, to truly change, to truly transform, we must work beyond the ten days of atonement. Beginning this work on Rosh Hashanah and ending it on Yom Kippur is akin to dieting between breakfast and lunch and thinking we will lose weight. Change does not happen in a day. It takes determination, commitment and resolve. It takes openness, understanding and compassion. It takes perseverance and persistence and lots of time to reach a beautiful place of blessing.
This reality, that change takes time, is our greatest challenge. Nothing else in our modern society takes time. We expect responses to our emails within 5 minutes, we can watch whatever show we want whenever we want, and eat anything at anytime. With our cell phones in our hands we are always accessible and can find information on anything with just a few clicks of a button. It is no wonder we are frustrated when we do not understand a concept, conquer a challenge, or make a change instantaneously. Any musician, scholar, linguist will tell you that becoming proficient in their field was partially talent and majority tuchas - sitting and studying for hours and hours on end. Scientists have even gotten it down to a number. It takes 10,000 hours or 416 and 2/3 days to become a master. The greats in any field had to persevere through the tedium and boredom, the set-backs and failures, the frustrations and irritations. They needed to push themselves to the end and be patient in order to succeed.
When I think of the Dolomites I think of what majesty and beauty comes from slow and patient change. They took millions of years, to become what they are today. Senghor took time, years in prison that he spent working on himself, to turn his life around and become the motivational speaker and author he is today. These days are not the time to complete the work, but they are a time, every year, for us to renew the work, to continue the work, to jump start the work on ourselves, the work that takes a lifetime to truly finish.
Life is a journey with many peaks and valleys, at times we will try and try and try and still fail, at other times we will find great success. The lesson for us to learn is to never give up. It takes time and it is hard to bring about change in our lives, but the reward is brilliant. These days of awe help us to acknowledge our faults and failures, while still keeping the door open on change and improvement, embracing all that we have ahead of us. If hiking in the Dolomites taught me one thing, it is that while change can be scary it can also bring about magnificent beauty. Senghor’s story teaches all of us that even our worst deeds, our darkest moments, do not determine the final outcome of our lives. Life can only be lived one moment at a time. Our past does not have to determine our future. We have a choice to make. We get to decide what comes next. For this reason, the lessons of the High Holidays are only effective if we can carry them with us throughout the year. Therefore, we pray that these days will bring about inspiration and give us strength to never give up on uncovering our true potential.
Shanah Tova