Rabbi Ilana Krygier Lapides: A Days of Awe D’var – It’s the small things

By Rabbi Ilana Krygier Lapides

(Calgary) – The timing of our High Holy Days is so strange this year. September roared in with back-to-school, cooler days, and the smell of lockers and white-out…but Yontef is slow to come. We don’t even need to make our chicken soup until the first week of October.

But maybe that’s not a bad thing this year. It gives us a little extra time to begin the Yamim Nora’im – the Days of Awe process of Cheshbon Hanefesh – reckoning of the soul.

I have to admit, the spiritual, mental, and emotional work of preparing for the New Year, of looking back on the past year and taking stock of what could have been better, feels a little overwhelming this year.

How can we be introspective when our brothers and sisters in Eretz are literally fighting for their lives, when the threat of antisemitism is no longer an intellectual exercise but an everyday reality? Our limbic, lizard brains are yearning for black and white/right and wrong answers; and we are so exhausted by the onslaught, we can barely manage nuanced conversation much less the interiority of self-reflection.  How do we manage a reckoning of our soul in these circumstances?

I was mindlessly scrolling on social media when I came across a video by a Walter Nusbaum, telling the story of a brief experience that really changed his life. It seems that Mr. Nusbaum was in an airport bathroom and as he was standing at the sink washing his hands, he saw another man in a very expensive three-piece suit had finished washing and proceeded, carefully and intentionally, to wipe down the counters and the fixtures with the paper towel.

This was such unexpected behaviour from someone so obviously in a position of power and privilege, that Mr. Nusbaum cracked a joke: “You been working here long?”

The man in the suit gave a little smile and said, “You know, it’s not a bad idea to leave things a little better than how you found them.”

Mr. Nusbaum was struck by this and commented in the video, “Wow, can you imagine the impact it would have on our lives if everything we did, we left a little better than we found it?”

I’m not sure why this 45-second TikTok video had such a profound effect on me. Perhaps it’s because, the way the world is today, attempting to make it a better place feels so daunting and unlikely. And yet, this man did it with a paper towel and an idea.

It’s not a brilliant epiphany but at a time when common sense seems less common, small truths can make a difference: it doesn’t take much to practice Tikkun Olam – repairing the world – one baby step at a time.

Mother Teresa is not from our faith but her words resonate with me right now: “Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”

We don’t have to look far to find similar sentiments in our own tradition:

In Torah, Micah (6:8) teaches: “You have been told, O mortal, what is good, and what God requires of you: only to do justice, and to love goodness, and to walk modestly with your God.”

Centuries later, Rabbi Tarfon in the Mishnah reminds us not to give up, especially when the task is daunting:

“The work is plentiful…It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you at liberty to neglect it.” (“Pirkei Avot” 2:15-16)

My capacity for large gestures and acts of righteousness may be limited these days but I’m going to try and do justice by battling antisemitism when I see it, by supporting my people in their struggle, writing letters, attending programs, educating those that are open to the truth.

But when I run out of steam and feel disheartened, I won’t neglect the work. I’m going to try and hold the door for the person behind me at the bank, make eye contact and smile at the cashier at the grocery store, give $18 to that cause I dismissed, let that car merge in front of me in traffic. Small things with great love.

Last week, I told the story of Choni the Circle maker who saw an old man planting a carob tree.  Choni asked the old man when the tree would bear fruit, and the old man answered that it would be at least 70 years. “Why would anyone plant a tree that wasn’t even going to bear fruit in their lifetime?”, he asked. The old man simply responded, “My grandparents planted a carob tree so that I would be able to reap its fruit. Now I shall do the same for my grandchildren.”

It might not be a carob tree, and the direct recipients will not be our grandchildren, but now more than ever we must keep trying to repair the world in small ways that reflect our intention to love goodness and walk modestly with Hashem.

If these tiny acts of Chesed – kindness, of Tikkun Olam, are something we all do together, we can indeed usher in a New Year of sweetness, compassion, and peace.

From my family to yours, Good Yontef, Gute Yor!

Rabbi Ilana Krygier Lapides is the Assistant Rabbi at the Beth Tzedec Congregation and also has her own independent Rabbinic Practice as the Rocky Mountain Rabbi