Now if the mail service worked the way Mary and I hoped it would work you should be reading this letter just before the beginning of a brand new Jewish year, or at least sometime during the days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.  And if not…I ask you to pretend you are reading it at the right time.

On the eve of a new year I want to share with you a story I first read many years ago and tucked away in my office.  I happened to stumble over it again this summer.  I hope I haven’t told it too often.

There was once a man who was very stupid.  When he got up in the morning it was so hard for him to find his clothes that at night he almost hesitated to go to bed for thinking of the trouble he would have on waking.

One evening he finally made a great effort, took paper and pencil and as he undressed noted down exactly where he put everything he had on.  The next morning, very well pleased with himself, he took the slip of paper in hand and read: “cap” and there it was. He set it on his head.  “Pants” and there they lay.  He got into them.  And so it went until he was fully dressed.

“That’s all very well, but where am I myself?” he asked in great consternation: “Where in the world am I?”  He looked and looked, but it was a vain search; he could not find himself.  And that is how it is with us.

“Where am I?” This is one of the questions we should be asking ourselves during these high holy days.  Where am I in my life? Like the character in the story we sometimes cannot even begin to find ourselves.  Our lives have moved us to places that we never wanted to be.  Many of us are lost and we do not know how to find our way back to the place that we want to be.

Each fall we are blessed with the opportunity to look deep inside ourselves and reflect. Each year at this season we have a chance to take a deep breath and regroup.  We are bidden to do teshuvah, to turn ourselves around and move in a different direction.  During these sacred days we ask ourselves these questions.  Are we the person that we want to be?  Are we living the kind of life that we always hoped to live?  Have we treated others the way we should have treated them? Do our days on this earth have meaning and purpose?

Sitting in the sanctuary, with so many of our community all around us, these are the things we are supposed to ponder.  Whether every piece of liturgy speaks to us or not, and whether every musical arrangement is to our liking or not, this season is about personal growth and spiritual renewal. We gather to ask ourselves the tough questions and hopefully, with the help of God, discover the answers.

This is not something that one can do at the office on Rosh Hashanah or at a football game on Yom Kippur.  These holidays are unique.  They are set aside from all other days on the Jewish calendar.  My prayer is that we will all come to understand the importance of these days, not as something we must do because we are Jews, but something we want to do because Judaism affords us the opportunity for transformation each autumn.  May we teach this to our children and to our grandchildren.

I do look forward to sharing the holidays with everyone.  May we all find ourselves this season.

Rabbi