Making Time to Breathe
Kol Nidre -2002, 5763

One of my colleagues has suggested a way to make the High Holidays more interesting. A search would be made for ten congregants notable for their devoutness and davening skills. Starting with Rosh Hashanah and continuing for each of the Ten Days of Repentance that culminate in Yom Kippur, one of the ten congregants would be voted out. At the Neilah service at the end of Yom Kippur, just before the shofar is sounded, the one surviving member would be written into the book of life.

I suspect my colleague got this idea from the “Survivor” show. I personally never have watched “The Survivor,” but from what I understand, the series has two major areas of focus. The first is the contestants’ pre-occupation with the search for food. Sounds like our own lives. Finding food, or more accurately, ferreting out the best restaurants in which to dine, is an obsession of Long Islanders.

The second focus is the contestants’ battle to outlast all the others in order to win one million dollars. This, too, sounds like our lives: trying to out smart the competition in order to succeed financially. Business is often described as “a dog eat dog world.” And even for those in the professions, there is stiff competition with colleagues for a substantial share of the potential clientele.

Lest my words be misconstrued, let me clearly state that financial success is not a sin. Judaism has never viewed poverty as a path to greater spirituality. As Pirke Avot, The Ethics of our Fathers, states, im ayn kemach, ayn torah. Without sustenance, there is no torah. If we are worried that we won’t be able to put food on the table, we won’t have the peace of mind to pursue spiritual matters. Striving for material well-being is important. However, in our quest for material well-being, we must be on guard against what might be ignored in the process. We must be ever conscious of the temptations to engage in ethical and moral shortcuts. The al het, the confessional, reminds us of our duty to maintain the highest standards of morality and integrity in our professional and business activities.

The behavior of several Enron, World Com and Tyco officials who enriched their own bank accounts with tens of millions of dollars while draining the savings of their employees and investors, is an example of where greed among businessmen can lead. The Biblical book of Ecclesiastes describes the warped culture at the top of many corporations in a simple phrase, “The lover of money never has his fill.”

But I worry not just about ethics and morality being ignored in the pursuit of wealth. Most of us, I hope, won’t fall into that trap. But that there is another snare associate with the quest for material success and with the social pattern that accompanies it. I have noticed that frequently when I ask a person how he or she is, the response is, “I’m very busy.” I often say the same thing myself. We are all constantly on the go. We are running from appointment to appointment, from one client to another, from one patient to another. Or our lives are taken over by having to drive our children to a series of after school activities and then, in a few hours, having to pick them up and bring them home. We are very busy, and because we are very busy, we don’t always have time for important things.

There is a story -- probably apocryphal - but maybe not - about a father who worked very hard to provide everything for his family. Because he worked so many hours, often, he was unable to attend his children’s ball games and recitals; he was rarely present at dinner, and frequently he was not even home in time to tuck his children into bed. He loved his wife and children more than anything else, but because of his demanding work, he was able to spend precious little time with them.

One day his daughter asked, “Daddy how much money do you make an hour?” Her father mildly chided her, “That is not a question you are supposed to ask someone.” But Dad, is it twenty dollars an hour, or $50 or $100?” “Well, dear, let us say it is $20.”

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, the daughter ran off to her room. A few weeks later, the daughter knocks on her father’s door and places a big jar on his desk. “What is this?” her father asks. “It’s a jar with $20 in nickels, dimes and quarters I have saved. I want to pay you for an hour of your time.”

What do you think? Is that story apocryphal? I think it hits pretty close to home. Ask your children whether they have as much of you as they wish. See what they say.

Sometimes, we are not only too busy for our own family – we are too busy for ourselves. What do so many homes have today - an office? I remember when the home was an escape from the pressures of work. Time at home provided a cherished opportunity to read books and magazines, to work at a hobby, to play games with one’s children, to watch a TV program together as a family. For some, it was a chance to listen to beautiful music, to read a text for an adult study class or to enjoy a novel for a book club. Now we have an office at home to lure us away from these relaxing and refreshing diversions. An office in the home says a lot about our lives today, doesn’t it?

And when we are not in our office-away-from-home or in our office-in-the-home, we still are not free from our work. We keep in constant touch with our secretary and clients by means of our lap tops, pagers and cell phones. Do you know what happens before every wedding in our synagogue? An announcement is made, “please turn off your cell phone.” Here we are witnessing one of the great joys in peoples’ lives, and we have phones in our pockets poised to connect us to what is happening outside the sanctuary.

When we can’t allow ourselves even a few moments to let go, to be free of our office or business, we are truly trapped. How can we enjoy life’s pleasures if our cell phones, pagers and lap tops are constantly inviting us to be places other then where we are. We need to set boundaries because when we are so reachable, so accessible to others, inevitably, we are less accessible to ourselves and our dear ones. We have to learn to disconnect so that we can reconnect.

One of my favorite prayers, recited many times on Yom Kippur, asks “Meh chayenu?” “What is our life?” What are we living for? Is it only to run and do? Is it only to be constantly involved in our work? Judaism teaches us that we also need to set aside time to think ideas, to reflect, to study, to pray, to do mitzvot. It is not billable time. It doesn’t add to our gross national product. But these activities are vitally important. They recharge our batteries, they provide us the time to appreciate life.

In a few days, we will begin reading the Torah again from the beginning, from the first chapter of Genesis. In that narrative, we are told that God created something new each day for six days. But then God created one final thing. He created a seventh day on which to rest from the work of creation. Even God needed rest from his work, and even God had to create the time for it. The Torah tells the Jewish people to imitate God’s behavior and also set aside the seventh day for rest. Just as God shavat vayinafesh, God rested and took a breather, so, too, we must take time, not just on the Shabbat, but at least on the Shabbat, to relax, reflect, read and worship, be with our family and revitalize our spirit.

This holy day of Yom Kippur is a break in our hectic routine. It provides breathing space to reflect upon how we are spending our days. It is a much needed pause during which to ask ourselves, “Is all my frenzied activity allowing me enough time to live my life meaningfully?” This year, in the aftermath of 9/11, we are especially attuned to this question. Having seen so vividly how our lives can be wiped out in a flash, we have become far more introspective. We understand, as we may not have before, that our worth is not determined by material things; it is not measured by our possessions and the money in our bank account. Our worth is determined by the relationships we nurture, the people we touch, the community we help. What determines the value of our lives is giving our children sufficiently of our undivided time, strengthening our bonds with our spouse and being devoted to our parents. What counts is having upheld the bottom line of integrity and honesty. What matters is growing spiritually and intellectually. With these as our priorities, surely we will bring blessing and goodness in the New Year ahead both to ourselves and to those we hold most precious and dear.

G’mar hatima tova, may we all be sealed for a good, healthy and fulfilling new year.