Rabbi Ain’s Kol Nidre Sermon 5784/2023

Kol Nidre 2023

The pain and power of silence

Rabbi Rachel Ain, Sutton Place Synagogue

Kol Nidre is a night that we look deep and recount our mistakes. We don’t like to do it but we need to. We will consider the sins we did willingly and unwillingly, knowingly and unknowingly. Tonight, I would like to reflect on what it means to be silent-when that it is helpful and when it isn’t.

First, We are often meant to believe that we shouldn’t talk about those things that cause us pain-that we should just grin and bear it. But tonight, I want to mention areas that cause people pain-mental illness, depression, infertility, anxiety-whether you have experienced it yourself, or you know your loved one has struggled, or you aren’t sure why I am talking about, it, let me assure you, this sermon is for you. Because whether we are the ones in pain or the ones who want to help, we need to first understand that pain is real.

I often read books, watch tv shows movies, and, read people’s personal writings, that delve into challenging issues. Instead of watching comedies to make me laugh, I am known to watch shows like This is Us, or A million Little Things, which deal with death, suicide, abuse, and more. I have read memoirs of people who have gone through hell and back. I don't shy away from them. And I don’t feel like it is watching an accident on the side of the road where I can’t avert my eyes. Maybe it is an occupational hazard of mine, but I am willing to be uncomfortable to help others open up-it is why I will sit with people when their loved ones are dying or ask them about their challenges.

I feel that being present for people is a way of being a person.

This past year, I believe many in our world were in pain. I have seen it in my friends and my colleagues, people who have left positions, people who have needed help. Even last week I watched a few sermons posted by my colleagues who, in their sermons to their communities, shared the deep anguish that they were feeling. There is a lot of pain in this world.

About a year ago, a friend of ours from Upstate’s, son, died by suicide. While there were many potential reasons given the depth of his pain was apparent. And suddenly, and maybe because I was attune to it, I felt that I kept reading more about suicide. Whether it was Lisa Marie Presley’s son, or last winter when I read Congressman Jamie Raskin’s book, Unthinkable: Trauma, Truth, and the Trials of American Democracy. While much of it dealt with the January 6 insurrection, what it also dealt with, even more profoundly in my estimation, was the suicide of his son, Tommy.

He wrote, “Many nights I would stay up wondering whether to tell myself that mental illness took Tommy’s life or he took his life in response to mental illness. It is a subtle difference that tormented me. The only exit ramp from endless trips around a track was to remember that when as we debated free will and determinism, Tommy always came down on the side of determinimsm. He simply felt he had no choice in the face of total suffering, and so he wrote, “My illness won today.” Of course, For Raskin, this wasn’t satisfying given how much his family loved Tommy. He wrote ‘I have been buffetted by waves of self prosecution and self blame over things we might have done differently. We could have have insisted on more therapy or group therapy or taking over the reins on his prescriptions. Who knows. We are beset with doubt. BUT…Mental illness is rea…and in his farewell note, he asked shared that he didn’t blame his family, rather he asked for forgiveness from them.” In Raskin’s reflections, he shares that he can only remember three or four times using the word suicide in connection with his son’s struggles. But in writing this book, he shared “I didn’t want to speak the word too often for fear of investing it with too much power and presence as if uttering it might endow it with a terrifying providential aura that would act like a dark spell in the future.

BUT, the truth, of course, is the opposite-words gain strength when they are not spoken about at times when they should be spoken. Raskin said that “Not talking about suicide to a depressed person is like not talking about sex and birth control to a teenager. As uncomfortable and intrusive as it may seem, it is essential to use the word suicide itself in order to demysify it, to strip it of its phony pretense of omnipotence. Suicide is just, in reality, a terrible and irreversible detour from the road we all try to walk down together, the road of life.”

Here is what I learned from Raskin’s memoir-when someone is in pain, discussing it doesn’t make it appear or disappear, but how we discuss it, how we are present for people’s pain, might be helpful for what they need.

What do I mean?

First, We we need to allow for an understanding that we can’t mask pain. I watched the painful Netflix movie this summer, called Dopesick, one of the movies about the Sackler Family, PurduePharma, and the Oxy crisis. In their desire to push more pills they created a definition of something called breakthrough pain, which encouraged doctors to prescribe higher doses of Oxy to their patients. These drugs masked the pain, rather then giving the individuals different, safer tools to work through it. Sometimes, we need to allow pain to have its space, or we risk creating more pain.

To me this means that we shouldn’t shame people into talking but we should let people know that when they are ready, we will be here for them-

Does Judaism give us a guide for this? Certainly.

I often think to the moment in the book of Leviticus where both of Aaron’s sons, are killed at the alter. In a shocking moment in front of the community, he, the High Priest, brother of Moses, watches as his sons are killed. The Torah says, VAYIDOM AHARON. And Aaron was silent. Of course he was. This was not time for theology. This was not time for word that others would feel would bring him comfort. He was allowed to grieve however he needed to. In fact, in the Mishnah of Pirke Avot, we are taught, do not comfort a person when their dead lies before them. This might feel counter intuitive, but in my work with our grief group, it is clear that in people’s attempts to say somthing kind and comforting, what they are often trying to do is just “make everything ok”-to make the pain disappear. That doesn’t work.

Let people be in pain they need to be for a bit. In fact, we are taught in the Talmud that “Silence is akin to consent.” Normally, this is taken to mean that in the face of immorality one must speak up as to not go along with the crowd. But today, I would like to turn this phrase on its head, and realize that it can also mean, that being silent with someone who is in pain, but still being with them, is a way of acknowledging their grief.

This is of course isn’t easy. We all want to fix things, it is our nature. But let us learn from God how to step back. In Jewish mysticism, The God that existed before the creation of the world has to withdraw into His smaller place to make room at his own center for the creation of the world. If we realize that even God had to do tzimzum, contract God’self to allow the world to heal it’s rifts, we too sometimes, need to allow people to be able to grieve, without being embarrassed by it.

But we don’t stop there-

THEN…we need allow the sounds to come through:

Where do we see this?

Every week I Recite the Mi Sheberach out loud-I know the list is long. But I continue to read all those names and think about those people to demonstrate that you, they, are not alone in your pain. But saying names, outloud, we are normalizing that pain exists AND we are asking for healing, both in body and in soul.

We are also reminding each other to care for the sick in our community.

Second, we Recite Kadish out loud-We announce when there is a loss. We welcome people in consciously during shiva. We encourage reflection of loved ones on a yahrzeit. This is to show that you are not alone in your grief-and that while the path of grief might look different for different people, grieving together is important.

Thrid, we pay attention to what people are saying and how they are acting, rather than judging them for it. In the haftorah on the first day of Rosh Hashanah, Hannah, the mother of the prophet Samuel, was praying for a child, as she was in pain due to her infertility, and instead of being a pastoral presence, the High Priest Eli, accused her of being drunk. This is because though her prayer was silent, her lips moved and no sound escaped. Her silence rendered her misjudged by Eli. Fortunately, tradition appreciated Hannah and has since used her as a model for prayer-when we are in pain, we can articulate that through our prayers. Our psalms often provide the words that we need when we can’t find them ourselves. The notion that we can come into a sanctuary and offer our words up is no small thing and that is why, on Neilah, when we come together at the end of the holiday, for people to stand, quietly, together in front of our ark, we don’t judge, we share moment of compassion and grace. Everyone is equal yet brings their individual needs/emotions/experiences

THERE IS NO SHAME IN SUFFERING. The shame belongs to those of us who aren’t there for those who are suffering.

Don’t fault people who seek help….And don’t judge people-that is our role:

Rather,

Believe people

Don’t offer our (non medical) opinion to people who got opinions from their doctors for their health-whether their physical health or mental health. Undersatnd why anti depressments might be right for one person and not another. Why weight loss medication might be right for someone and not right for another. As people are trying to figure out their pain, be there for them but don’t try to solve it for them.

If we see someone in pain,

Help others

Judge less

And ask questions-

As was written by Chi-ma-manda N-gozi-Adi-chie in Americanahm,

“If you don’t understand, ask questions. If you are uncomfortable about asking questions, say you are uncomfortable about asking questions and then ask anyway. It’s easy to tell when a question is coming from a good place. Then listen some more. Some people just want to be heard. Here’s to possibilities of friendship and conection and understanding.”

And, Look out for loneliness as that is painful as well. If you just googled loneliness this year, you would find hundreds of articles, at least about it. One of our members, knows this is a topic that I find fascinating and every few weeks will send me something he has read. It is everywhere, and, as I listened to my colleagues sermons from Rosh Hashanah, this was another theme that I saw emerge, so I knew again, though this sermon had already been written, I was in line with the conversation of the day.

The question was asked: If Loneliness is an epidemic, how do we treat it? Eleanor Cummins and Andrew Zaleski wrote:

More than one-fifth of Americans over 18 say they often or always feel lonely or socially isolated. Among older adults, social isolation has been linked to various adverse physical and psychological effects, including increased risk of dementia and heart disease. “Addressing the crisis of loneliness and isolation is one of our generation’s greatest challenges,” wrote Surgeon General Vivek Murthy.

If loneliness is an epidemic, how do you treat it? Given its myriad health consequences, some experts argue it’s time to consider new remedies. This calls to mind a trip to the pharmacy to pick up a bottle of pills, but treating loneliness the same way doctors treat high cholesterol isn’t exactly the idea here. As a growing body of research indicates, loneliness is a biological phenomenon with far-reaching consequences. Neuroscientists have found that brain signals that should trigger someone to seek social connection are the same ones that, under different circumstances, can turn people defensive and vigilant — more apt to hunker down instead of reach out. Under this rubric, loneliness isn’t simply a symptom of societal failure to foster deep relationships but rather a wariness that takes root, steadily snowballs and reshapes the brain. Loneliness may be a communal problem, but healing begins with the individual.

Loneliness will never be cured. But it probably can be treated. ..

Friends and family must be proactive about engaging with lonely people on terms that work for them. Finding ways to support others gives lonely people a chance to connect…

Most important, lonely people must remember that while they are not necessarily responsible for all the conditions that plunged them into loneliness, they can take steps to pull themselves out of it. This may involve forcing themselves to connect — even when they don’t feel like it. Dr. Murthy wrote eloquently about this “medicine hiding in plain sight”: “It could be spending 15 minutes each day to reach out to people we care about, introducing ourselves to our neighbors, checking on co-workers who may be having a hard time, sitting down with people with different views to get to know and understand them and seeking opportunities to serve others, recognizing that helping people is one of the most powerful antidotes to loneliness.”

In the ending of the series, Ted Lasso, there was an incredible scene, where the broken pieces of his sign, Believe, that were torn apart in the previous season, were put back together. Why was this powerful? First, because all of the players had held onto one piece, not knowing the others had done this as well, demonstrating that they were deeply connected, but more than that, when they brought their broken pieces back together, they could make an even stronger whole. The notion that broken pieces can help us believe, should be a reminder, that even if we or our loved ones feel broken, we can and should believe in ourselves and each other.

Rabbi David Wolpe teaches that one can learn the truth about spiritual growth from a Ram’s horn. The shofar call begins with a tekiah, a long, unbroken blast; progresses to shvarim, three wailing blasts; and finally reaches the staccato truah. The shofar always returns to the tekiah. That is the growth of the spirit: First wholeness; then brokenness, shattering; and finally, a new, stronger wholeness. But it’s more than that! We come back even better by ending with the Tekiah Gedolah, recgonizing that we grew when we built ourselves back up. This is why we all wait with baited breath for Marty to sound the shofar. We see ourselves in it, we hear ourselves in it…with the trembling of the notes, it is as if our collective needs are put together and being sent to God for healing. We are not alone.

This also shows us that we must acknowledge that there are pains in our lives that sometimes cut very deep, but those pains will, in some way, help us connect to God. It doesn’t mean that we have these pains so that we can connect to God, but rather, even with these pains we connect to God. In fact, in Psalm 147, we are taught that God is close to the brokenhearted.

It means that it is okay for us to have a broken heart. It is one that we must work on repairing our heart. How do we do that? We use this time during the high holidays to recognize that brokenness must be accepted before we can get to wholeness and holiness.

Our Kol Nidre liturgy helps us think about this. Each year we ask permission to pray with the avaryonim. Some say that this refers to the marranos, those hidden jews of the Spanish inquisition. But more telling is that the word avaronyim is sinners. What does it mean that we have permission to pray with sinners? Who are the sinners? Clearly, it is each of us, since our mahzor recognizes that we each have our weaknesses, our imperfections, our broken hearts.

So, to what do I pray for? What are the inner depths of our prayers? Our deepest pain is often our deepest hope? Can our prayers, this year, be offered together?

Can we provide the space, spiritually and communally, to be with each other in our pain? We have already created spaces for gathering but if there are things you need, please let us know. I imagine if you are in pain, you are not alone. Reach out and if we can connect you to others-to talk about loss, depression, additiction, infertility, divorce, we will connect you with those who might want to talk as well. Know that there are gatherings for many of these topics already which will be shared in tomorrow’s program guide that you will receive and in February we will explore the issue of Mental health, in particular following a shabbat service.

And if you aren’t struggling consider this a suggestion on how to lift up others and if you are please know, you aren’t alone

In their book, Go To Help: 31 Strategies to offer, ask for, and accept help, Deborah Grayson Riegel and Sophie Riegel recount Paula Davis’s notion of The Hopefuly mindset. They add to the 4 core beliefs of hopeful people in the following way-

That their future will be better than their present0and asking for help can make this easier and more fulfilling

That they have the power to direct how their lives unfold-and you can ask for help while still directing your life

That there are many paths to their goals-and most of us will need help along some of those paths

That there will be obstacles and that they can overcome them, with help.

Life is a journey that isn’t meant to be walked in solitude. We have our friends, family, community, and God.

Rabbi Naomi Levy wrote the following prayer, to bring together the pain and the spirit, as we seek better days ahead.

“A prayer for the strength to stop running from the pain”

God who speaks in silence, teach me not to fear silence. Remind me that running from pain only causes more pain, that distraction is no cure for suffering. Give me the courage to embrace the stillness, to encounter the quiet, that I might learn to hear Your holy voice, AMEN.”

AND

“A prayer to be hear”

Help me, God, I can no longer hold my suffering inside. I feel so isolated and alone. I don’t know whom to turn to, whom to rely on.

Give me the courage God, to trust someone enough to open my heart. Fill me with the faith that i will not be rejected. Please, God, show me how to find the right person to receive my words. Let it not be someone who will judge me or misunderstand me. And when there is no one who will listen, hear me God, Hear me and heal me.”

If you are in pain, may you find someone to listen. If you can walk in God’s ways, and be there for others, open your ear and be there.

It is in the nexus between the two, that we find healing, together.

Shanna Tova.