Meanwhile, across the diaspora anti-Israel and antisemitic incidents flare up viciously, like a cult.
Wider afield, drone attacks intensify over Ukraine. Starvation grips Somalia and few care. East and West, strongmen leaders promote racism and hatred and pursue policies which destroy nature and threaten our planet.
People tell me of their pain, fears, grief, insecurity, frustration and, sometimes, despair and shame. Some days it feels as if the heart of humanity is in the grip of a merciless hand which rubs it up and down like a piece of raw meat against a grater.
Yet we are not just victims; whether we like it or not we are also implicated. As we repeatedly confess, we too have sinned and betrayed.
So on Yom Kippur we bring before God a bleeding heart and a troubled conscience. What does God want of us in a world like this?
The liturgy is complex, but what it says about God can be summarised simply.
God knows and sees to the heart; therefore, God requires us to be honest. God loves and cares for life; therefore, God wants us, too, to love and care for life. God is just; therefore, God demands justice and integrity from us too. God is forgiving; therefore, God wants us to acknowledge, repent, and make atonement for the wrongs we have done.
I wish I could believe in a hands-on God who makes righteousness and compassion happen for us here on earth. But when injustice so frequently goes unchecked and cruelty and contempt are rife, the evidence is lacking.
Rather, then, I believe in God whose spirit flows through all life, bestowing consciousness on all living beings, who places in our heart and conscience the knowledge of right and wrong, who gives us the capacity to discern truth, the gift of love, and the longing to bring healing.
This God calls out to us from within our own heart, from our fellow human beings, and from the animals, even the trees and all creation. From every living being God pleads: “Look at these hurts. Show some compassion. Stop wounding and start healing!”
Even if we don’t believe in God at all, lovingkindness, justice, truth and accountability remain essential values by which to measure ourselves individually and collectively.
So these then are the Yom Kippur questions: Are we honest with ourselves and others? Are we just? Are we compassionate? To face them we need inspiration, hope, moral courage, vision and faith.
I find these qualities in so many people I meet. There’s Sharone Lifschitz, and her mother Yocheved who was held hostage in Gaza. Her father Oded was murdered there. She speaks frankly about the viciousness of Hamas but never promotes hate and, despite everything, builds bridges of humanity.
Bishop Kenneth Nowakowski[Missing Credit]
There’s Bishop Kenneth, responsible for the wellbeing of displaced Ukrainians in the UK. After joining our Seder, he told us we’d given him hope. “How so?” we asked him. “Because your people were persecuted and murdered, yet you still celebrate freedom.” I know that he brings hope to thousands of people.
There’s Rabbi Arik, courageously committed to Torah, Israel and justice. I watch him respond calmly to a mocking youth who’s provocatively herding his cattle through a Palestinian village: “Remember: every human being is created in God’s image”.
Rabbi Arik Ascherman, founder of Torah Tzedek[Missing Credit]
I witness the tears of people, wounded by grief, who look up and say, “I’m not giving up on love.” I meet people who turn the bruised inner places of their hurts into chambers of compassion for others who suffer likewise.
I see people care for the smallest living things, birds that weight less than an ounce, undersea grasses, butterflies, mosses, because this is what they need, and want, to do, for the earth, for the future, for God.
The integrity, courage, goodness and dedication of such people is humbling and inspiring. Through their conduct, they lift the questions off the pages of the prayerbook, “What is our life? Where is our compassion, our righteousness?” and set them starkly before our heart and conscience, making us ask of ourselves: “What am I doing to bring fairness and healing to this bleeding world?”
Yom Kippur is a great challenge. But it is equally a great moral and spiritual opportunity. We cannot afford, morally or spiritually, to let the day pass us by.
Jonathan Wittenberg is senior rabbi of the New North London Synagogue
Top image: Inspiring hope and moral courage: Sharone and Yocheved Lifshitz
