Yom Kippur lesson
A story I heard from my wife, who heard it from her teacher and possibly right back all the way…
Imagine a man walks into a store, a small market owned and run by an elderly, hard working, proud proprietor. The man lays down a whopping order: five crates of flour, a case of drinks, boxes of canned vegetables, these and thats and more of those – a list miles long. The proprietor sweats, strains, stretches, climbs, shlepps, and brings everything to the front, packs it, carts it and rings it all up. With his hands shaking from exhaustion and dripping with beads of labor, he presents the final bill. The man reached for his wallet only to find it’s gone. He shrugs and whispers, “Sorry.”
“CHUTZPA!!!!!” yells our hero and sends him out with a good boot to the tuchus.
Now, imagine the scenario again, but God runs the store. You walk in and ask for the world: five crates of forgiveness, a case of livelihood, boxes of health and happiness, blessing, compassion, these and thats and more of those – a list miles long. The Almighty strains, stretches, climbs and shlepps and lays everything on your doorstep, packs it, carts it and rings it all up. When you reach for your wallet of merit, you realize it’s gone. You shrug and whisper, “Sorry,” and turn to shuffle away.
“CHUTZPA!!!!!” He yells. “You think I want your money? Take it for free – it’s all yours!”
You see the difference? That’s Yom Kippur. That’s how He (the One with the capital H) relates to us and how we’re supposed to feel.
Yom Kippur’s not necessarily the day for detailed numeration of one iniquities – every day is equally fitting for that. Rather Yom Kippur, the day itself, wipes the slate clean. All one needs is a heartfelt, sincere, deep, rumbling of regret, recognition of wrong and cataclysmic yearning for the spiritual Truth. With that, a divine dust storm of purest white races through our existence and blankets our innermost being with the shrouds of holiness and purity. Yom Kippur is such a gift. Use it well.
May we be well sealed,
Rabbi Lynn
Imagine a man walks into a store, a small market owned and run by an elderly, hard working, proud proprietor. The man lays down a whopping order: five crates of flour, a case of drinks, boxes of canned vegetables, these and thats and more of those – a list miles long. The proprietor sweats, strains, stretches, climbs, shlepps, and brings everything to the front, packs it, carts it and rings it all up. With his hands shaking from exhaustion and dripping with beads of labor, he presents the final bill. The man reached for his wallet only to find it’s gone. He shrugs and whispers, “Sorry.”
“CHUTZPA!!!!!” yells our hero and sends him out with a good boot to the tuchus.
Now, imagine the scenario again, but God runs the store. You walk in and ask for the world: five crates of forgiveness, a case of livelihood, boxes of health and happiness, blessing, compassion, these and thats and more of those – a list miles long. The Almighty strains, stretches, climbs and shlepps and lays everything on your doorstep, packs it, carts it and rings it all up. When you reach for your wallet of merit, you realize it’s gone. You shrug and whisper, “Sorry,” and turn to shuffle away.
“CHUTZPA!!!!!” He yells. “You think I want your money? Take it for free – it’s all yours!”
You see the difference? That’s Yom Kippur. That’s how He (the One with the capital H) relates to us and how we’re supposed to feel.
Yom Kippur’s not necessarily the day for detailed numeration of one iniquities – every day is equally fitting for that. Rather Yom Kippur, the day itself, wipes the slate clean. All one needs is a heartfelt, sincere, deep, rumbling of regret, recognition of wrong and cataclysmic yearning for the spiritual Truth. With that, a divine dust storm of purest white races through our existence and blankets our innermost being with the shrouds of holiness and purity. Yom Kippur is such a gift. Use it well.
May we be well sealed,
Rabbi Lynn
posted by Rabbi Lynn at
12:04 AM
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