Beating the Drum of Our Heart

A few years back, I was talking with someone I just met and they insisted on talking about someone we both knew in a manner that seemed to be equally disrespectful and gossipy. I mentioned to them that I was actually uncomfortable with where the conversation was going and their response was, "it's okay, we only have a few more days until we say the Al Chet, while symbolically beating their chest. Despite my urge to yell, "THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS!, " I reiterated how and why it was uncomfortable for me to stay in the conversation and I walked away.   

This interaction has troubled me ever since, especially since I think that the Al Chet is one of the most powerful parts of the Yom Kippur service. I was unnerved with how easily this person was able to disregard what they were saying because in their mind, they will "make up for it" saying a few words during service. I believe this liturgy we have inherited from our ancestors is such a blessing, giving us the words and the rituals to help us along the path of atonement for the things that we have individually and communally done to create harm. It can also be used like a grade school speech or poem that we recited because we were asked or made to, not because we thought it had meaning in our lives. And my guess is that most folks fall somewhere in the middle in their understanding and use of these prayers. 

The Maggid of Dubno's parable, reimagined by me, might help us here. A person was visiting a city they had never been to. After they had dinner and watched a lil TV, they settled into sleep. In the middle of the night they were awakened by the sound of drums. They called down to the front desk asking, "What is going on?!?!!?" The person replied, "oh, there must be a fire. The drums are our city's alarm system." They thought that was really cool, but they were still tired so they went back to sleep. When they got back home, they were so excited to tell everyone about this awesome fire alarm the city used. They even went to the city council meeting and told them the whole story saying, "when the fire started, folks began beating the drums and after awhile, the fire went out!" The alderpersons decided that day that they had to buy several drums so they too could have an alarm system. Not long after, a fire broke out in the city and the designated drummers started beating the drums and while folks were listening to the drums and waiting for the fire to go out, several homes were destroyed.  A visitor from the nearby city couldn't believe what was happening. They admonished the people, "it's not the drums that put out the fire, it is the people who heard the drums and woke up that extinguished it!"

When we treat the Al Chet as if it is the teshuva, but we never do the work of atonement that is required to make those words meaningful, we are just beating the drums, and our hearts, while the world is literally on fire. I encourage us to reexamine our neshama and the words we are saying and do what we must to make those words a wake up call to our collective consciousness that spurs us to action. 

Let us be mindful daily about what we are saying and doing so that we cause the least harm as possible. 

Let us do the work of atonement for the harm we have caused to ourselves, our family, and our community. 

Let us begin the year afresh, knowing that the sound of the drum is beckoning us to wake up and put the fire out. 

May this be the year we pay attention.

L'shana Tova y'all.