Category — Yom Kippur

This past Shabbos I spent my afternoon at a Bar Mitzva of a friend. We all sat together in a basketball gym turned ballroom and tried to no avail to listen to speeches in a room with the worst acoustics anyone could have invented, and we wished L’chaim to the new ‘big boy’ and his family.

Once the formal part was over the informal part began. Around a small table laden with leftovers and schnapps the Yeshiva boys sat down for a Farbrengen - a sit together with a dynamic ‘Farbrenger’s relative of the boy.

We find ourselves two hours ‘in’ and the atmosphere is warm and honest. It’s time for real and honest reflection.

“In the real world, says the farbrenger, there is a slogan that says “fake it till you make it!” For example a stock broker who must drive a car at a 600 dollars a month lease, and wear Fifth Avenue suits making sure to always look sharp and spiffy.

In reality however this guy is just out college and he’s a total shnorer, and the fancy suit was borrowed from uncle Hymie and the leased car is about to be confiscated by the IRS…

But what’s the poor guy supposed to do? The only way anybody is gonna blink in his direction is if he looks like he’s a something.

What happens later? Well in the beginning it’s all a fake, but with G-d’s help eventually it becomes a reality and he can afford to lend his fancy suits to the newbie’s…

Fake it till you make it!

This is so relevant to each and every one of us, cries the Farbrenger, in so many different ways.

For example we have the guy that says: “Oh, this whole Jewish thing, c’mon I only come Yom Kippur and that’s only because grandpa won’t mention me in his will unless I come, so why make believe that I’m praying?”

What do we tell him? “Fake it till you make it!

“I hate my parent/sibling/neighbor/classmate so why fake it as if we get along?”

Fake it till you make it!

“My self esteem is in the Dead Sea and I feel useless, so why go around and continue living and putting up a smile as if life is normal?”

Fake it till you make it!

Dear friends, may you and your family be sealed in the Book of Life for the coming year. And may this year be a year when the faking stops with the coming of the true redemption speedily in our days.

In connection with this special time of year, I heard a beautiful story that I wish to share with you.

Yom Kippur’s chill is already felt in the air; it’s time to recite “Kol Nidrei.” The tension in the synagogue is tangible. The prayer shawls are tightly wrapped around the tear-stricken bent-over figures hugging their prayer books to their chests.
As the Rabbi enters the synagogue, all eyes turn towards the beloved sage and mentor. To the surprise of all present, the Rabbi doesn’t walk to his place at the front; instead, he walks to the back bench where all the simpletons and beggars of the community sit, and he approaches Tuvia, the local milkman, for whom the term ignoramus would be too generous a description. This guy was such a blockhead that even mastering the alef bet was an impossible feat.
With a big smile, the Rabbi greets him: “Hello, and a Shana Tova to you!”
“Thank you, Rabbi!”
“So tell me, Tuvia, how are your cows dealing with the weather?”
The whole Shul is shocked. WHAT?! Has the Rabbi’s mind snapped just before the holiday? Or maybe – surprise of all surprises - Tuvia is a hidden Tzadik, and this conversation belies great secrets.
Meanwhile, Tuvia has asserted that his cows were indeed not coping too well with the weather but, G-d willing, it will be OK.
“And have the cows produced satisfactory fertilizer?”
“Thank G-d! Thank you, Rabbi, for asking.”
Ugh… who ever heard of the connection between fertilizer and Yom Kippur? The few kabbalists amongst the crowd assured the rest that there was no name of G-d or Kabalistic term in any way associated with the word.
“May you have much Nachas from your cows and make a good Parnasa (livelihood).” And with that the Rabbi made his way to his place and signaled the cantor to begin the Kol Nidrei.
After services, the worshipers hurried over to the Rabbi. Perhaps he would explain to the curious bystanders the meaning of that dialogue.
“No, dear friends, Tuvia is exactly who you think he is, and there were absolutely no hidden secrets passed over during that discussion. However, he too is a Jew and deserves respect and attention. Over the passed few weeks I got the feeling that he would like to speak to me, to hear my voice speaking to him as a person and individual, yet due to his lack of knowledge in any intellectual, spiritual, or even practical field; talking to normal people, let alone a Rabbi was something he felt he could not do.
“So when you heard a conversation about cows and fertilizer, in essence you were watching me as the leader of the congregation showing him that I care about him. I wanted to establish for him and for everyone else that he is important as anyone else in this synagogue. And if you are wondering about the timing, remember this: Just when we feel inspired to rise above the world and experience a spiritual awakening, that is the time when we must remember the ultimate purpose is not that which transpires in the clouds, but rather, that which transpires down here, between us and our fellow Jews.”

That, my dear friends, is the story. When you will stand swinging chickens around your head, or kissing G-d at the Neilah prayer, resolving to change in the coming year, don’t forget your brother sitting next to you or behind in the back – the shlepper, the tattered-clothed beggar sitting outside, the fellow who seems to talk only nonsense. Just shine a smile, a handshake, a penny to spare, a friendly tap on the back. For all you know, you will have made his year, even his life. And that, at the end of the Holy Day, is what truly counts.
And maybe you’ll pick up the phone to ring a family member, friend or acquaintance you haven’t spoken to in a while. It really doesn’t matter what is discussed; it’s the message that counts, the message that I care about you, and love you. An email is also OK…

Easy fast and a Gmar Chasima Tova to all! May you be inscribed and signed in the book of happiness and joy.