Shabbat Shuva 5786

This Shabbat is called שבת שובה, Shabbat Shuva, the Sabbath of Return. It’s the Shabbat that falls between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.  Shabbat Shuva invites us to reflect not only on what values we consider important, but on moments that we can make important that we can value.

There is a tradition that there is an angel that watches over and protects us throughout our lifetime. That angel’s responsibility is to ensure that there is one moment when we fulfill a deed that represents the best in who we are. That is not only the angel’s purpose, but ours as well. The angel is tasked with ensuring there will be at least one moment in which we fully live up to our truest selves.

Here is one story that is a beautiful example of how the most important mitzvot often happen when we least expect them.

The holiest night of the year is the night of Kol Nidre. The big synagogue is full. Jews are standing, their heads covered with their prayer shawls. Old men are wearing their kitels, the white robes resembling shrouds. All of them are absorbed in quiet piety. They are waiting. Nobody says a word. The Kol Nidre prayers are sure to begin any minute now.

So why weren’t they starting? The cantor had been standing at the prayer lectern for a long time. He had finished reciting the silent prayer that precedes Kol Nidre a while ago. Who were they waiting for? After all, the time for beginning Kol Nidre was long past.

The old rabbi hadn’t come yet! They couldn’t start without the rabbi, of course. But where could he be? The sexton had already stopped by the rabbi’s house: he wasn’t there. He’d left home some time ago — bound for Kol Nidre. So what on earth could have happened to him?

The rabbi had been walking slowly to Kol Nidre when he passed a poor hovel and heard crying, like that of a child. The rabbi stopped and listened; the crying was coming from inside. Opening the door, he noticed a cradle with a baby in it, and next to the cradle, a little girl of about six. Both children were crying.

“Why are you crying, little girl?” asked the old rabbi.

“Mama went out to Kol Nidre and left me to watch the baby,” the girl sobbed. It woke up suddenly and started crying hard, and I don’t know what to do….”

The rabbi picked up the crying baby and carried him around the shabby room, smiling and talking to the child until it stopped crying. It stuck out a hand toward the rabbi’s gray beard and played with the long hairs. The six-year-old sister had stopped crying, too.

“Nu, you see? Everything’s fine!” said the rabbi, laying the baby back down in the cradle. The child burst into tears once again, and the sister began to whimper as well.

The rabbi took the baby back out of the cradle. Once again, he carried it in his arms, singing prayer melodies to the child. The baby calmed down, but as soon as the old rabbi lay the baby back into the cradle, it began to cry anew.

“This baby is probably hungry,” the rabbi said to the little girl.

“It’s possible. Mama couldn’t feed the baby because it fell asleep and she didn’t want to wake it,” the sister said.

“If that’s the case,” replied the old rabbi, “Then go to the synagogue and call your Mama.”

“I would have done that long ago, but I can’t leave the baby alone!” exclaimed the six-year-old sister.

“I’ll wait here until you come back with your Mama,” the rabbi assured her.

The sister left to fetch their mother. Meanwhile, the rabbi dandled and rocked the baby in his arms, humming some more prayer melodies. The hungry baby smiled and played with the hairs of the rabbi’s beard. The infant lay calmly and happily in the arms of the old rabbi, listening intently to his melodies…until Mama came home from synagogue.

With quick steps, the rabbi rushed into shul.

People ran up and asked, “Rabbi, what happened to you? Are you alright? Tell us, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, nothing,” the old rabbi assured his congregation. “On the way to Kol Nidre, God destined me to do a great mitzvah. I heard a child crying, so I went inside and held the child.

Soothing a crying child is a great mitzvah!”  And this is how the rabbi explained, in a quiet and halting voice, why he had come late to Kol Nidre.

“Kol Nidre…” the cantor began to intone. The whole congregation recited the Yom Kippur

prayer with quiet devotion. The old rabbi kept smiling, as if he were still holding the baby in his arms.

The rabbi in our story could have rushed past the crying child, telling himself that his most important duty was to be at the synagogue on time. But he understood that the most meaningful mitzvah may be found outside the synagogue walls. As we enter the holiest day of the year, let us reflect on what our own highest priorities are and how we can find moments of holiness in our daily lives.

On another note, in my Torah reading explanation on the second day of Rosh Hashanah, I spoke about Jarren Duran. I somehow mistakenly referred to him as Jason, and I apologize for that error. His story is found in the Netflix series “The Clubhouse: A Year With the Red Sox.” It is a most valuable series to watch as we walk with Jarren Duran through his psychological struggles as a major league player, some of which were caused by fans who taunted him.  Today, Duran reaches out to communities to speak about his struggles and to remind us of the value of life. It also reminds us to strive not to be judgmental of others, but rather to step into their shoes and see the truths and the struggles in their lives, and to be there for them.

Am Yisrael Chai!!!

Bring them home now!!!

G’mar chatima tovah, and may you be sealed for a good year, filled with many moments of goodness and many good moments.

Rabbi K