For months, we have been preparing for Yom Kippur, examining our souls, struggling to be honest with ourselves, and mourning the destruction of the ancient Temple. And finally, the great and awesome day is here.

What does Yom Kippur have to teach us? And what more can we learn from the entire holiday cycle?

Perhaps, more than anything else, Yom Kippur teaches us that there are forces far greater than we are. And it teaches us that, despite our human frailty, all of our actions matter.

We confront our doubts and our weakness and we ask, “Who will live and who will die? Who by water and who by fire?” And this year, as we face the results of climate change, we realize that nature is bigger than we are, and that only our actions can save the planet.

And we confront our mortality in smaller ways as well – attending healing services and praying for loved ones at Yitzkor. Again and again, we are reminded of the shortness of life and of our need to take action.

We sit in healing circles, we witness the pain and the loneliness of others. And we realize that we only have each other. We need to be God’s hands, lifting up the fallen, and visiting the sick, and healing each other’s pain.

And we remember our loved ones who are no longer with us. We cry and we remember, and we think “If only…” If only I had a chance to tell them that I loved them. If only I had taken the time to forgive him.

And ultimately, Yom Kippur reminds us of the importance of our relationships. We dare not ignore the people around us. We dare not be callous, and we dare not ignore our loved ones, because who knows what tomorrow will bring.

For Jews, the summer and the fall begin with a sense of permanence and end with a sense of fragility; with a sense that every moment with a loved one matters.

We begin the summer with the beautiful days of June. The air is clean, the days are warm. And in our sacred myth, we have just come out of Egypt, and we have been given God’s greatest gift – the Torah. What could be more permanent? What could be more lasting?

And then, in the dog days of summer, we remember destruction. We mourn the destruction of the Temple. We remember the end of a Jewish way of life that gave meaning to our people for almost a thousand years.

And finally, on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we learn that joy can only come from within us – from the good deeds that we do and the kindness we show towards others.

In a few short months, we go from the security of the ancient Temple, with its thick stone walls and its ancient rituals, to the fragility of Yom Kippur.

And in one short week, there is another holiday that awaits us. In one short week, we will sit in our sukkahs, exposed to the elements, with nothing but leaves to protect us from the rain. And there, finally, we will discover the secret of joy.

“You can sit in a shack,” writes Jonathan Sacks, “with only leaves for a roof, exposed to all the hazards of the cold, wind and rain and yet still rejoice, when you are surrounded by God and the people you love. Have that and you have everything.”

That is the lesson that awaits us.

Chatimah Tovah,
Art