Thursday, September 20, 2012

Rebooting the soul


Every year about this time, my friends, relatives and colleagues get an e-mail from me with the subject line: An Apology.

In the e-mail I apologize to them for anything I may have done over the past year, knowingly or unknowingly, that may have offended or hurt them in some way. I also let them know that I forgive them for anything that they might have said or done to me that may have offended or hurt me in some way during the last year.

I do this because I am Jewish and during the period between Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year; and Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement; we Jews are supposed to do a lot of soul searching and repent for all our sins so we can start the new year with a clean slate. But as our teachings tells us, “For transgressions against G-d, the Day of Atonement atones; but for transgressions of one human being against another, the Day of Atonement does not atone until they have made peace with one another.”

I realize that I should probably say this to each person face-to-face – and I do try to do this – but because it is logistically impossible for me to meet with all my family, friends and colleagues who are scattered all over the country during these ten holiest days of the Jewish year, I am forced to resort to a more impersonal, technological method to make my apologies.

Sometimes I think this is sort of cheating, because it is much easier to write the words “I’m sorry” in an e-mail than to say them to someone’s face. Yet to say I’m sorry to only the people who happen to be geographically near me and not to those farther away doesn’t seem right to me either.

This was very much on my mind this past weekend as I attended the High Holiday services at my temple, when my rabbi began talking to us about the concept of “Teshuvah.”

Teshuvah means to “repent and return,” and as our rabbi talked about this, he said something that not only made me feel better about my use of e-mail in my attempts at Teshuvah, but also appealed to my inner geek. He said that no matter how bad the sin, if you really and truly are repentant, G-d will forgive you and will not punish you.

“Is that cheating?” he asked the congregation. “If you do the crime should you not do the time?”  Is G-d granting us a metaphorical, if not somewhat literal “get out of jail free card?”

His answer to that was no. And this is why:

Because if you truly repent and change your ways, then you are no longer the person who committed the sin, he explained.  “It is like hitting the reset switch,” he said.

The moment my rabbi said that, I pictured some heavily hand descending from the sky and hitting some invisible Ctrl+Alt+Delete (or for you Mac users out there: Control+Command+Eject ) keys on our heads and rebooting us the way we reboot a misbehaving computer.

Of course the moment I thought that I felt guilty (as I said, I’m Jewish, and we’re genetically programmed to feel guilt at the drop of a yamaka). I shouldn’t be thinking such silly and irreverent things during this time of the year!

But the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t think it was so silly after all. Rebooting a computer will clear out the memory and will often get rid of any corrupted information which is causing the computer to misbehave. That is why the first thing any computer geek you’ve ever gone to for help will ask you if you’ve tried rebooting. And wouldn’t it be cool if there was some magic button combination that we could press within ourselves that would clear out our memories and get rid of all that bad information which causes us to misbehave and sin?

Wouldn't it be nice if our prayers acted like that simple “three-fingered-salute” that could erase all our evil inclinations and make us live up to the greatness G-d sees in all of us? And wouldn’t it be nice if, like rebooting a PC, that transformation could be achieved in mere minutes instead of having to spend all day fasting and praying at the synagogue hoping that we can stick to the promises we make to ourselves to become a better person?

But we alas, we are not computers. It takes more effort for us to change our ways than just simply pressing a few buttons, which in the end, I guess, is a good thing.  It is that struggle to find the divine in each of us that makes us human. Unlike computers there is no app we can download nor is there a single program we can run to help us find that spark of divinity. We are all individuals and we each must find our own path. For some that may mean using personal wealth or power to further some worthy cause, others might find it by healing the sick, feeding the hungry or by volunteering to help build homes for the homeless. Still others may find it by simply being a good friend, or by visiting with the sick or just through a kind word or deed said to a stranger.

G-d understands the individual nature of our path to redemption. “ You do not ask me: 'Why have you not been great as Moses?' ” one of our Yom Kippur prayers reminds us. “You do ask me: 'Why have you not been yourself? Why have you not been true to the best in you?'

Yet finding and remaining on that path to being the best of yourself is not easy. During our lifetimes, circumstances seem to force us to take many detours and inevitably we wander down many blind alleys. We rely on our faith to be our GPS, keeping us on the straight and narrow. But still we go astray.

I suppose then, that that makes the period between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur the time when G-d “downloads” updated maps to us.  Hopefully this year, I will be able to follow those directions better than I did last year and avoid having to worry about the need to again reboot my soul next year.

Ken yehi ratzon. (May it be God's will).

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