Life is long enough to find fulfilment

For our failures of love, we seek forgiveness

Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, occurs this year on Saturday, Sept. 30. It is a day the Bible sets aside for fasting, prayer, and selfevaluation. As the sun begins to set on the eve of the day, the family gathers for a festive meal. Candles are lit, and members of the family ask forgiveness of one another for the wrongs they have committed — parent of child, child of parent, and husband and wife of each other.

Yom Kippur atones for those transgressions we have committed against God, but not for those wrongs which we have committed against each other.

(They must be removed through a change in conduct. Wrongs must be amended. Losses must be restored. Grievances must be forgiven. Exploitations must be rectified.)

It is noteworthy that the transgressions we are concerned with on Yom Kippur do not include major or cardinal sins.

“What corrodes our spirit, what nibbles away at our souls are our tiny, almost imperceptible faults. It is these little sins that are most destructive, for we live and work and play in a society which sanctions, indeed encourages petty larcenies, petty cheating, minor breaches of good taste. In sports, cheating destroys the very fabric of the game so that it no longer makes sense. Yet in the game of life, we often rationalize about our departures from truth, integrity, fairness. It is these minute deficiencies that make or break our relationships with those nearest and dearest to us.”

Some years ago, a public-opinion poll in the U.S. indicated that about 80 per cent of those interviewed believed in God.

But in the same survey there was another question: “Would you say your religious beliefs have a substantial effect on your practice in business or politics?” To this question a majority answered “No.” Their religious beliefs had no impact on their daily conduct. Evidently, religion for too many of us has become respectable but irrelevant.

This points up one of the deep-rooted maladies of our time, we are split spiritual personalities. We swear allegiance to one set of principles and live by another. We extol self-control and practise self-indulgence. We proclaim brotherhood and harbour prejudice. We laud character but strive to climb to the top at any cost. We erect houses of worship but our shrines are often place of business and recreation. Unhappily, our souls are the battleground for civil wars and we try to live serene lives in houses divided against themselves.

The prayer book ritual emphasizes our failures in understanding the need for love and companionship.

“For our failures of love, Adonai, we seek forgiveness. For exploiting another for our own pleasure, and for the wounds we cause through betrayal and deception. For withholding affection from those we claim to love, and for using love to control our spouses and partners, our children and parents. For abandoning friends and siblings whose love has sustained us, and for neglecting those who love us when they need us most. For harbouring in our relationships mistrust, boredom and disloyalty, and for rejecting our partner’s efforts at repair and renewal. For possessiveness, jealousy and avarice. And for lashing out in anger at those who are closest to us.”

Finally, there is a poignant prayer that reminds us poetically how brief life is. “We are like a fragile vessel, like the grass that withers, the flower that fades, the shadow that passes, the cloud that vanishes, the wind that blows, the dust that floats, the dream that flies away.”

The longest life ends too soon; a faint tick on the clock of eternity. And yet, we do have enough time to make a difference in so many ways. Yom Kippur teaches that life is long enough to find fulfilment, to matter, to choose a path. The number of our years may be beyond our control, but their quality and texture depend on us.