Rabbi's Blog

Many people will know the story about the Rabbi who a few days before Yom Kippur is so overcome by feelings of humility that he walked into the sanctuary of his shul,prostrated himself in front of the aron hakodesh, started frantically beating his chest “I’m nobody, I’m nothing, I’m nobody, I’m nothing.” After a few minutes the chazzan walked in and saw his colleague and decided it’s the season for it and he joined him, “I’m nothing, I’m nobody, I’m nothing, I’m nobody.” Well, it wasn’t long before the old shammes walked in at the back of the shul. He saw his rabbi and his chazzan and right there on the spot, he fell to his knees; “I’m nothing, I’m nobody, I’m nothing, I’m nobody”. The rabbi turned to the chazzan and said “look who thinks he’s nobody!”

This is not the first time I have told this story, nor will it be the last, but like any good story, it will mean something different each time we tell it.  Clearly there is plenty of hubris involved with humility in that “just look how humble I am kind of way,” yet some of that comes from this inherited cultural norm that we are supposed to beat ourselves up and think about all the ways in which we have done shameful, bad things and the more we do that, the better we are.  

I do this a lot. Anyone else?  I can be very hard on myself and will very often go to the place of dwelling on all of my negative traits and the ways in which I have let others down, and when I am in that self-punishing, self-deprecating place, I am myopic to any positive contributions I may have made to the world.  I imagine, and kind of hope, that many of you can relate to this otherwise it could get awkward.  My version can be any number of things, like not having followed through enough on my creative endeavors like writing and podcasting, or avoiding difficult conversations or not being there enough for people who need me, letting down friends, not being politically active enough or neglecting my body by eating too much sugar and not doing enough exercise.  All of these are real. And more too, and of course I need to work on them and do more, but falling into the existential despair of it all does not serve anyone, least of all myself.  It can be relentless and unhelpful and does not necessarily inspire positive change.

Rabbi Avi Weiss, in an article he wrote for Times of Israel a few years back, talked about being in a “making your good marriage better" workshop with his wife and being asked to write lists of positive and negative traits. He shared how much easier it was for him to come up with all the negatives and discovered that this was true for most of the participants. He writes:

“The presenters explained that, deep down, people by and large lack confidence in their own abilities. We may “put on airs,” appearing confident and capable, but at heart most people — even the most successful — lack belief in themselves.”

Anyone who is truly honest will feel some version of imposter syndrome. When are they going to find out that I am not who they think I am?  And so many of us internally beat ourselves up for not being good enough or authentic enough.  

So here we are in the middle of Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year, reciting over and over again the Vidui, the confessional prayer and looking our miserable failings right in the face while beating our chests in flagellation. Ashamnu (אשמנו), bagadnu (בגדנו), gazalnu (גזלנו), dibarnu dofi (דברנו דפי) — we have transgressed, we have betrayed, we have robbed, we have spoken terrible words.  Obviously the intention of the continuous return to all the ways we have missed the mark is to help us repair, heal, grow and inspire us to be the best versions of ourselves that we can.

For those of us who are inclined to do this too often throughout the year, this ritual can backfire and have the opposite effect.  It can make us despair and lose confidence in ourselves to do good in the world and be good people. That just cannot be the point of this amazing, dare I say, awesome, day.  It is a day where we transcend our humanity and touch into the realm of the angels, where our fasting, according to the Kabbalists, is not about deprivation and suffering, but elevation and feasting for the soul through prayer and practice.

Rabbi Avi Weiss, who has had an enormous influence and contribution to the Jewish world and beyond, and yet who clearly is afflicted with this very human capacity for focusing on his negativity, has written a compelling corrective, a kind of reverse ashamnu, that begins ahavnu, we have loved.  I will come back to his text soon.  Much of his inspiration for this comes from a teaching from Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak HaCohen Kook, the first Chief Rabbi in Palestine under the British mandate.  In connection to the mitzvah ma’aser, the declaration of tithing in the correct manner, HaRav Kook wrote a commentary on the Rabbinic teaching in the Mishnah that says: “just as there is a vidui la-ra, a confession for the bad, so, too, there is a vidui la-tov, a confession for the good...In the fourth and seventh years of the sabbatical cycle, we recall that we have given tithes properly over the past three years...supporting Jerusalem, the Temple, helping the poor and vulnerable, doing good..” Rav Kook says:

A person should also be joyous concerning the good he or she has done. It follows that just as there is a great benefit to self-improvement through confessing one’s sins, so is there great benefit to confessing one’s good deeds. Therefore, the commandment of Vidui was established concerning the setting aside of the obligatory gifts (terumah and ma’aser). (Rabbi Kook’s Commentary to Mishnah Ma’aser Sheni 5:10)

Avi Weiss points out that for Rav Kook, speaking of our good deeds must be done carefully and with humility.  For those of us who are insecure and self-critical, there is great value in reminding ourselves of what we’ve accomplished and done well!  It can help us build self-confidence, believing in our capacity to do good for ourselves, others, our community and the world.  Some of us may be more inspired and empowered in our work by focusing on our failings and shortcomings and, for most of us, it is likely a careful blend of the two.  Many of the Hassidic masters talk about the process of teshuva in relation to a verse from psalm 34 - sur me’rah v’asseh tov - turn away from evil and do good.  Once before Yom  Kippur a rabbi known as Chiddushei HaRim addressed his students:

A person who dwells too long on their misdeeds will find it impossible to repent because their heart and mind have become clogged and they might become despondent and depressed. It does not help to remain in the quagmire of “sur me’rah.” You will end up asking yourself: “What’s the difference if I sift the mud this way or if I sift the mud that way?  It’s still mud!”...  In the time wasted on such thoughts, one could have been mining for diamonds and precious stones...Therefore, ‘sur merah’ turn away quickly from evil - don’t dwell on it too much. Instead, immediately ‘aseh tov,’ do good!  For if you have done many, many sins, do many, many good deeds to counteract them! Ohr HaNer

The tendency to hang out too much in the mud is what inspired Rabbi Avi Weiss to offer to the world the opposite recitation of Ashamnu, focusing on the good we’ve done. He stuck to the original acrostic, following the Hebrew alphabet.

אָהַבְנוּ, בֵּרַכְנוּ, גָּדַלְנוּ, דִִִּבַּרְנוּ  יֹפִי

We have loved, we have blessed, we have grown, we have spoken positively.

הֶעֱלִינוּ, וְחַסְנוּ, זֵרַזְנוּ

We have raised up, we have shown compassion, we have acted enthusiastically,

חָמַלְנוּ, טִפַּחְנוּ אֱמֶת

We have been empathetic, we have cultivated truth,

יָעַצְנוּ טוֹב, כִּבַּדְנוּ, לָמַדְנוּ, מָחַלְנוּ

We have given good advice, we have respected, we have learned, we have forgiven,

נִחַמְנוּ, סָלַלְנוּ, עוֹרַרְנוּ

We have comforted, we have been creative, we have stirred,

פָּעַלְנוּ, צָדַקְנוּ, קִוִּינוּ לָאָרֶץ

We have been spiritual activists, we have been just, we have longed for Israel,

רִחַמְנוּ, שָקַדְנוּ

We have been merciful, we have given full effort,

תָּמַכְנוּ, תָּרַמְנוּ, תִּקַּנּוּ

We have supported, we have contributed, we have repaired.

As we continue in our journey of this day, let’s not forget to acknowledge the blessings we have brought to the world through our positive actions.  The pounding of our hearts can be, as I often taught, a loving tap on the heart too.  It does not have to be an act of flagellation, pounding our chests so that they get bruised by the end of Yom Kippur.  I’m so bad, I’m so bad, like a self-harm gesture. But it can be a gentle invitation to our hearts to soften, to open, to be more loving and generous in the coming year.  It is also worth noting that the traditional melody that we sing for ashamnu is joyful and in a major key, which suggests that this practice and opportunity to confess the ways in which we have transgressed, cheated, lied, hurt and betrayed, is a positive and heart-opening ritual rather than a somber and depressing one.

In this vein, it is important to point out that Rabbi Weiss says:

In advocating Ahavnu, I am not discounting Ashamnu. Rather I suggest we find room alongside our negatives, to feel good about our accomplishments both as individuals and within our community.

There are so many people, way too many to name, who have performed extraordinary, beautiful, inspiring acts for this community and for the world and we thank and honor them, along with honoring the positive contributions that each one of us has made, even while taking responsibility and fessing up to our failings.

We can take the posture of false humility like the rabbi and cantor in the story “I’m nothing, I’m nobody,” or we can embrace our humanity, knowing the truth of the famous Hassidic teaching of Reb Simcha Bunem of Peshischa, that we have a note in each pocket, one that says “bishvili nivra haolam - for my sake the world was created” and the other that says: “ani afar v’efer - I am dust and ashes.”

Let’s just acknowledge that we are both and that, like Ken at the end of the magnificent Barbie movie, let’s proudly wear our “I am Kenough” tie dye hoodies.

Ashamnu, yes we have abused, bagadnu, yes we have betrayed and also ahavnu, we have loved and berachnu, we have blessed and brought blessings into the world.  Rather than being depressed and miserable at our failings, we can embrace them as our work for the year and at the same time joyfully celebrate our accomplishments!

As Rabbi Weiss says, “It is a day to combine tears, worries and regrets with smiles, confidence and a humble but positive sense of accomplishment. A day to lift our hands from our hearts heavenwards, while singing and dancing. 

Let’s do the work alone and together so that we will be dancing and celebrating before the gates close!