In traditional congregations it is customary to don a shroud for services on Yom Kippur.  To the best of my knowledge, Judaism is the only religion in which we rehearse our own death in this graphic way.  Imagine coming to synagogue and seeing your friends and loved ones dressed in their burial garments.  We are reminded of the transience of our lives and of our fundamental mortality.  None of us knows the length of days with which we may be blessed.  As we pray the words of Unetane Tokef, “Who by fire?  Who by water?  Who shall wander and who shall find rest?”, we appreciate the blessing of life and renew our commitment to fill our days with meaning. of ultimate and enduring importance.  

         Who shall live and who shall die?  We look around the room and notice the absence of those who are gone.  Miv’keetzo u’mi lo v’keetzo- some of them at the end of a long and full life,and some much, much too soon.  On this day, the book of our lives is opened,and we note that all is recorded- the highest moments of selflessness and love, and the moments of which we are ashamed- all written in our own hand and irrevocably part of who we are.

         This is the day on which we finally take responsibility, this is the day
when the bill becomes due.  We declare the holiness of this day- kedushat
hayom- because it is norah v’ayom- awesome and terrible.  The prayer reminds us that we each pass before God’s throne one by one, each of us accountable for our choices, each of us with our moment in the spotlight- our deepest secrets revealed.  Unetane tokef suggests that God writes our fate on this day. As we join together in this prayer, however, we reflect on the fact that it is we who must, in the final analysis determine, which parts of ourselves serve the person we are becoming- which parts shall live and which we choose to leave behind as we move forward into the year 5770.

         When we reflect on the fleeting nature of our existence, we think about the relationships which have become torn in the year that is drawing to a close, and we confront the reality that we do not have unlimited time in which to repair them.   With the Days of Awe upon us, we focus our attention on the search for forgiveness and healing.  We have so much pain-  the broken promises, the acts of betrayal, the ruptures and heartaches that come with the territory of intimate relationships.  All of us have unhealed emotional scar tissue that keeps our hearts closed and armored against repeated injuries.  We have all been treated unfairly by employers or teachers, we have all experienced the great hurt that family members inflict on each other, we know all too well the anguish caused by gossip, by public humiliation, the pain when something we hold dear was ridiculed; not one of us escapes being hurt by others.

         Sometimes the healthiest thing is to acknowledge that a relationship is severed and that it is best to let go.  When this occurs, we struggle to let go in a way that does NOT require us to continue to carry anger.  If there is hope for reconciliation, now is the time to reach out.  Our goal is to enter the High Holidays asking God for forgiveness, knowing that we have sought to create peace in all of our relationships. 

         We seek to forgive ourselves, to forgive each other, to forgive God and to forgive life itself for being full of disappointment.  According to the Kabbalistic tradition, the world was created through a process of shattered vessels.  The world was broken from its inception, we all become broken as we make our journey through life, and somehow we are responsible to work to heal the broken-ness within and without.  With Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur upon us, may we be blessed with the emotional and spiritual resources to take on this challenge.