The short answer to Judaism's perspective on the meaning of life is: "make each moment Kadosh (special, precious, holy)".  The wherewithal to do so is an answer given by Abraham, usually in a critical moment of facing the unknown, such as when God called Abraham to offer Isaac as a sacrifice.  As God called upon him, he answered: Hineni, "Here I am!".  The goal for anyone in covenant with God then becomes the ability, especially in facing the unknown, to say, in response to the challenge, "Hineni!"  Here I am. 

    How does one grow into such an ability?  It is a process of first accepting that we dwell in God's world and that we are here to abide by God's rules.  In a simple sense it means the obvious: to do what is right, good, kind, caring, fair and sensitive in all or as many of our daily doings as we can.  It is a commitment to be with and seek out people who share such values.  On the next level it means accepting that as much as things and occurrences in life seem to occur with enough regularity that we can build and live by schedules of predicable activity and events, in actuality we do not know what the next moment will bring.  What is important on this next level is to remember and cherish that whatever does work out, especially as we wish...each moment we are healthy and life is going well...is one of many countless and ongoing miracles.  Being mindful in such an ongoing way can prepare and fortify us to be creative, trusting and strong in our responses to moments that do not go as expected or desired.  In those moments, especially, we need to move into the next level of commitment: that we are not here to go it alone, to be totally independent and self-sufficient.  What is most important is having family, friends, and, particularly, community that is mutually supportive in reinforcing the values we commit to at the start in partnership with God and one another.

    This all comes into play as we enter the Hebrew month of Elul, a kind of "open-season enrollment" in partnership with God (the four letters spelling this month associate with the words from the Song of Songs: "I am my Beloved's (God's) and my Beloved is mine").  This is a month of reflection and introspection preparing us for the Days of Awe, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the days of transition and transformation in re-evaluating what is truly important and of value in our lives, and who the people are with whom we share our deepest commitments and cares.

    For these Days of Awe, facing the unknown as a catalyst for rethinking and reevaluating is something we have no choice but to do, for the unknowns abound more blatantly than usual, especially from our vantage point as Jews.  Even as I write these words, nothing is certain about Israel's future.  By the time you read them, you will have known whether August 22nd was a significant day from Iranian perspective (as they promise it is) in terms of response to the demand to step down from their program of nuclear enrichment.  It is a day that Iran has also promised a surprise for Israel, and we know it won't be a greeting card for the holidays.  Friends in Israel have expressed fear that if Iran decides to go after Israel in a significant way, Israel will be on its own because the U.S. in particular has had its belly full of war with Iraq.  Should Israel have to tackle Iran alone, life, as we have known it these 58 years, may change dramatically for the worse. 

    Whatever reevaluation you go through in your Days of Awe experience, one of them has to be repositioning your relationship with Israel.  American Jewry cannot go on with "business as usual" should anything terribly bad happen to Israel, particularly in the ashes of the Shoah, which historically happened yesterday.  In fact, the only reason American Jews can conduct their daily business without self-consciousness about their Jewishness is because of the existence of a vibrant state of Israel.  Having that address as "home" in the Middle East gives us respectability and an identity that other peoples understand, something that is not the case, for example, with the Kurds, who still live without a recognizable homeland. 

    Facing the unknown has become daily reality especially after 9/11 and was brought back into focus with the dismantling of the terrorist plot to bring down ten airplanes heading from London to the U.S. (a week after my family flew that route after returning from two weeks in Israel).

   In Israel life is constantly a matter of facing the unknown, and people go through daily life that way.  In the aftermath of the Hezbollah assault and the uneasy cease fire (which still stands, as of this writing) Israel faces the unknown of how the Arab world will respond to the popping of a psychological bubble of invincibility: for the first time in 58 years, Israel fought a specific war that it did not decisively win.  Some claim the only reason surrounding states have accepted relative peace with Israel is the knowledge that every time they fight, they get clobbered.  That did now happen this time, and internally Israel is now asking about their own preparedness and whether internally they had forgotten to be in a state of "readiness", the "hineni" mode that extends from the days of Abraham.

  Ready or not, the Days of Awe approach.  I look forward to seeing you and sharing in the journey with you.  I only hope and pray that whatever the unknowns are that become known, matters and issues we must face together, that we remember to be “here” for each other.  Knowing that we have one another to lean on for support and to nurture and to strengthen in our shared resolve to make it a good year will hopefully enable us all to make it a good and healthy 5767 for us all and for our world.

Join Rabbi White in Welcoming the Aura of the Days of Awe:  Sleechot night, Saturday, September 16, 11 PM to Midnight

    One of the quieter loveliest experiences of the entire year happens the Saturday night before Rosh Hashanah.  Following refreshments, (pizza anyone?), at 10:15 PM, we join together for a one hour introduction to the Days of Awe, especially the melody and motif of Yom Kippur as we check our egos at the door and open up to the love and trust of the process of Teshuva, of change, transformation and the beginning of re-wiring of our very being.  The brief service, ending promptly at midnight, contains the holiday's loveliest melodies along with meaningful reflection and stories.  If you have been to Sleechot (which means "forgiveness/sorry"), you know how special it is.  Bring someone with you this time and share in the opening of the aura of the Days of Awe, a special evening with Rabbi White.