Rabbi Nancy Wechsler-Azen
Erev Rosh Hashana
The Bar of Gold
There once was a man strong and capable who had a great deal of difficulty making an income. He wasn't lazy, he was eager to work. The problem it seemed was worry. He worried constantly about money, making enough money to feed his family, to cloth his growing children, to pay for their schooling and activities, just to keep them in their house without foreclosure. The worry and fear about succeeding caused him such grief that it actually wore him down so that he looked depressed, gaunt, and ill. So much did he wear worry and fear that people shied away from him, choosing to hire others less capable than he. One day, he sat on the sidewalk and put his head in his hands and moaned.
The town physician walked by, and seeing him so distraught asked, "Are you ill?" "Yes" he replied, "I believe I am very ill with worry and fear of the future. I worry I won't work and now no one hires me to work which makes me all the more worried." "Come to my office" said the doctor and they walked slowly into town. Once in the doctor's office, the worried man was given some tonic and then shown into a special room that had on one side a small glass cabinet with a single large bar of gold inside.
The physician said, "Take the cabinet and with it, the bar of gold. It was given to me by my father who worked very hard. He told me that the bar of gold was there just in case, and should not be used except in a dire emergency. Just know that it is there should you need it." And he handed the small glass cabinet with the bar of gold inside to the man. The man was speechless and muttered some kind of thank you and headed out the door to show his wife.
That night, the couple slept more soundly than they had in years. When the man woke up and saw the glass cabinet with the bar of gold, he stood tall, he smiled broadly, he took a deep breath, held up his head and walked into town. Almost immediately, it seemed, he was called to work and after that other calls for work came in. He actually looked like a different person, he dressed more neatly, he shook hands with a firm handshake and for the first time in decades looked people straight in the eye. In a short time, steady income grew, the couple and their children flourished and the bar of gold stayed in the glass cabinet.
Years pass, the children grew, married and had children of their own. One warm summer evening, the now elderly couple sat on chairs on their front porch, holding hands as their grandchildren played in the yard.
Down the street came a man, gaunt, weary and walking slowly with his head lowered. The couple looked at one another and called out to the man to come near.
The troubled man told them that while he was a scientist, and had lost his position at the university. He had become increasingly worried about earning a salary and as he spent all of his time worrying, it had started to eat him up alive till he could think of nothing else. As a result, no jobs were coming forth which led to more worry. Without a word, the couple nodded to one another and the man went into his house to get the bar of gold. Handing it to the scientist, he said, "Here is a bar of gold from us to you. Know that you have it, plan never to use it, but be strengthened and comforted that it is there just in case."
The dumbfounded scientist thanked them, and once given the bar of gold, walked away. Immediately, as a scientist, he knew from the weight that this was no bar of gold, maybe some kind of tin, but absolutely not gold. After some distance, he sat down and with a torn piece of cloth from his backpack, began absentmindedly polishing the bar. To his surprise, there was writing on the bar, it said:
"It is the fear of the future that causes unhappiness.
When you know you are not alone, you can face
whatever comes your way with courage and dignity.
Begin now."
Having read the message, the man stood up, took a deep breath, lifted his head, threw back his shoulders, and took new steps with a stride of steady confidence. He knew that the message of the bar was written and destined for his eyes indeed more precious than gold.
Do we know the outcome of the scientist's life? Would his life turn out as well as the previous owner of the bar of gold? Who knows? Do we know what's in the cards for us next? Of course not. All we can infer from the story is that, from that moment onward, the man was able to acknowledge his worry but not let it rule is life.
May I suggest that we search for our enduring bar of gold during these Holy Days and to consider the possibility that the element of life that we can truly count on - is a relationship with something greater than ourselves, whether we call it G-d, a higher power, an intelligence embedded in the universe, a hunch that life is meaningful and worthwhile no matter what.
We all have strategies, hobbies, things we enjoy or can lean on to get us through the night, but there is nothing of this world that is permanent. So in what crucible can we forge a bar of gold that will never ever be taken from us?
One could say that having faith or attempting to develop faith right now is cosmic chutzpa. Yet no matter how far away such faith might seem, deep down inside we still believe that no matter what, neither hurricanes nor earthquakes, job insecurity, health insecurity, food insecurity, or relationship insecurity will keep us from keeping on, from maintaining that life is worth it.
Rabbi David Hartman, founder of the Hartman Institute in Jerusalem where I was privileged to study this summer, is entering his 90th year. One evening he gave a lecture and spoke about his definition of being a Jewish person. He said, "The phrase, 'I am a Jew' is equal to the phrase, ‘I want to live' which is equal to the words, ‘I want to celebrate life.' He taught that our secret to survival is our will to walk tall and even when faced with tough hurdles, we don't check out.
Somewhere in the back of that cluttered, infrequently opened drawer, we have the keys to a reservoir of faith.
We have a key to G-d, we have the key to open up and access the energy of our people, we have keys to Torah, and we have our soul. All of these are here for us and when we are in touch with those gifts, we stand taller and unafraid.
For the Jew, survival is a mitzvah. The deepest philosophy of who we are as people is never to drown in despair. We have to remember or in some cases, begin to see that we are the carriers of our people. Despite worry in its myriad of forms, we can still hold our head up.
One Sunday morning I meandered in the Old City of Jerusalem, wandering into places I had never seen before. One such place had a modest sign saying, "Old City Holocaust Museum."
I walked down a few stairs into a musty space with dimly lit exhibits. This was not the stellar Holocaust Museum in the center of Israel, but something far more quiet and subdued.
In one small exhibit I saw the menorah of Livia Biton Jackson. She and her mother had used four potatoes taken from a potato field in Aushwitz. When their guard wasn't looking, they hid them and once in their barack, they cut them into candle holders, took thread from their torn garments and procured oil at great risk from the machine shop. With a girl posted at the door to watch, they celebrated the courage of Judah Maccabee over the Hasmonians and by doing so, experienced the miracle too.
Or take the tailor who was forced to sew a garment for a nazi officer made from Torah parchment to antagonize the Jews. This tailor chose the sections of Torah that involve all the curses which befall evil doers. The nazi did not know, but the tailor knew what was on the vest. And by doing so, experienced the miracle of Jewish resistance and dignity.
As Rabbi Nachman taught: Kol ha-olam kulu gesher tzar m'od – all the world is but a narrow bridge; v'ha-ikar lo l'fached klal – and the most important thing, is not to be afraid.
Maybe what Rabbi Nachman wanted us to know was that the most important thing, is never to think we are alone in our challenges and that G-d is eternally present.
I know, for a nice progressive Jew, raised to appreciate rational thought and critical thinking, who am I to talk about G-d so much or my personal relationship with G-d? I certainly don't recall my childhood rabbis speaking that way. I cannot quite put my finger on it, but somewhere it became clear that the teachings of Judaism were meant for me and that it mattered.
I remember years back attending a Mussar conference in Chicago and meeting an orthodox rabbi, Rabbi Moshe Katz. I was so moved by his community and the confidence I saw in his community. And so I asked him a question which has become a nearly 7 year long conversation.
I asked, "Moshe, you are a rabbi and I am rabbi. Your people suffered from the Holocaust. My people suffered from the Holocaust. Your people have accidents, illness and face tough times with the economy. My people have accidents, illness and face tough times with the economy.
But how come you seem to speak of faith and G-d with ease and we have some embarrassment about talking about G-d, talking to G-d or reveling in having G-d in our lives?"
It wasn't what Moshe said, but his invitation for dialogue that has fueled my own heart and commitment to having G-d in my life all the time.
Having that bar of gold is a lesson found in Psalm 23 where it says, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow, I will fear no evil. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." The Jewish people and individually have what I like to call, a ‘faith gene' it is there for all of us and it helps.
Of the many trinkets I picked up in Israel this summer, my favorite is a refrigerator magnet. It's simple words seem to capture my bar of gold, it says: "G-d, help me to remember that nothing is going to happen to me today that You and I together can't handle."
The bar of gold story is your and my story. It is the story of our people.
It is all about the single decision to hear the declaration, "I am a Jew" as synonymous with "I want to live." Life, even through its most worrisome chapters, contains its fair share of paradise. Think of your own most difficult times in life and then allow yourself to remember the truly beautiful moments that lived along side them.
Stephen Levine, a Buddhist teacher says, hell means wanting to be somewhere different from where you are. Being one place and wanting to be somewhere else. Being constantly agitated – another word for not-accepting what is. When we want our life to be different from what it is to the extent that we no longer see G-d's ladder right in front of us is another way of saying, we can't quite grasp that we own that bar of gold.
What we have in every moment, right now in this breath, is a path toward dealing with whatever comes our way, without folding, without succumbing to despair.
Instead, our heritage invites us to dive deeply into the challenges and find partnership with G-d, to pull out the blessings that come from choosing life again and again and again.
Shana Tova u'mtukah –A good and sweet new year. May we all be blessed with years of full and confident living. Amen
MAY I SUGGEST
Copyright © Susan Werner
May I suggest
May I suggest to you
May I suggest this is the best part of your life
May I suggest
This time is blessed for you
This time is blessed and shining almost blinding bright
Just turn your head
And you'll begin to see
The thousand reasons that were just beyond your sight
The reasons why
Why I suggest to you
Why I suggest this is the best part of your life
There is a world
That's been addressed to you
Addressed to you, intended only for your eyes
A secret world
Like a treasure chest to you
Of private scenes and brilliant dreams that mesmerize
A lover's trusting smile
A tiny baby's hands
The million stars that fill the turning sky at nightOh I suggest
Oh I suggest to you
Oh I suggest this is the best part of your life
There is a hope
That's been expressed in you
The hope of seven generations, maybe more
And this is the faith
That they invest in you
It's that you'll do one better than was done before
Inside you know
Inside you understand
Inside you know what's yours to finally set rightAnd I suggest
And I suggest to you
And I suggest this is the best part of your life
This is a song
Comes from the west to you
Comes from the west, comes from the slowly setting sun
With a request
With a request of you
To see how very short the endless days will run
And when they're gone
And when the dark descends
Oh we'd give anything for one more hour of light
And I suggest this is the best part of your life