Yom Kippur Morning Service           Monday, September 28^th September , 9:30Am

Always be cautious but never be afraid.

No matter what happens, always keep your word.

And be certain to leave wherever you are, a little bit better than how it was when you arrived.

These were the closing remarks of a renowned Israeli peace activist who met with our Congregation while we travelled in Jerusalem.  These three statements succinctly deliver the message of the High Holy Days.

                Always be cautious but never be afraid.  Each and every moment that we are living, we are drawing closer to our death.  The observance of Yom Kippur simulates an impending death scenario.  Facing our mortality and thereby our human fragility, we are guided to embrace the fullness of life.  The teachings and observance of Yom Kippur comes for the explicit purpose of heightening our awareness of accountability and for what we believe and how we translate those beliefs into deed. 

In Pirke Avot, the Sayings of Our Ancestors, we learn: Kol ha-olam kulo, gesher tzar m’od-v’haikar lo lefached “The world is a very narrow bridge, the important thing is not to be fearful.”  Every day we are faced with the challenges of taking strides, meeting challenges, doing that which we have not done before.  If statistics are correct, each and every one of us has felt the pain of this economic recession.  There are those in the Congregation who have lost jobs this year.  Others who have watched savings dwindle.  Some of you are contemplating how you are going to pay for your children’s college.  College graduates find themselves entering a market in recession.  Many are attempting to navigate creative ways to maintain adequate Health Insurance others facing the challenges of assisting aging parents to live with independence, dignity and still receive adequate support.  We have rendered ourselves reliant upon a society and culture that may not have our best interests at heart.

And then the inevitable of life; many of you are coping with illness or the illness of a loved one.  Many have lost loved ones and these losses have forever changed your lives.  And for those who are blessed with fullness of health and life, Yom Kippur is the one day of the year that we allow our overly full lives to become just quiet enough that we can contemplate our own mortality as a reality that can in turn inspire real fullness of what is truly important in our lives.

When carrying my children, I had uneventful beautiful pregnancies.  But with each one, I found myself increasingly aware of mothers around me whose pregnancies were not effortless, but rather marked by alarms for their unborn children and I became aware of an increasing number of newborns whose lives were complicated by a multiplicity of health challenges.  By the time that I became pregnant with Barr, notwithstanding once again a delightful pregnancy and a gentle and uncomplicated birth, I was filled with abounding gratitude, a sense of pure providence and unmitigated blessings by my fortunate circumstances that I no longer would take for granted.    

Our babies are driving, graduating college, launching careers, buying homes, getting married and beginning families of their own.  What keeps them safe behind the wheel, on a College Campus, in a secure work environment?  Who will assure their mortgages and the safety of our grandchildren?  We incorporate the real challenges of danger and integrate them into our lives daily.

And in Israel, someone’s baby is guarding the hostile Borders, and in America someone’s baby has been deployed to Afghanistan or Iraq.  The world is a frightening place.  We know now, in 2009, that American cannot ever afford to imagine herself insulated from that which threatens our world.  And even in our own backyard, we find that the world moves at such a frantic pace, that we hardly arrive to the next plateau and we are staring at challenges that might feel insurmountable.   We know the dangers, we can all fall victim to the pessimism that seems to surface with more frequency and vibrato than the optimism.  We all are fragile and vulnerable but we cannot be afraid.  Fear is paralyzing.  Never be afraid but always be cautious.  Exercise the wisdom to lead with prudence, mindfulness and determination.

No matter what happens, always keep your word.  Last night we focused on the power of words.  Kol Nidre, the powerful formula by which once a year, having done everything in our own power to make things right- to ourselves and to others, only then do we turn to God and request release and compassion for that which we have failed to live up to.  The idea is to render ourselves accountable to that which we commit to.  By words God created the entire world.  With words do we profess love and with a formula of words “harei at mekudeshet li…” do we cement the formality of Jewish marriage.  With words worlds we create and with words we destroy.  Yom Kippur calls us to be accountable for the words we say and the commitments we have made.

How is it that we have cultivated a society where one out of every two marriages fails to uphold the words we say to each other on our wedding day?  How is it that we encourage our children to express words of commitment as they become Bar and Bat-Mitzvah about their desire to continue to grow as active adult members of our Community but it isn’t your family’s priority to come here on the Sabbath.  How is it that we say that our Judaism is so important to us but after the rush and glow of the Holidays you’ll be too busy to come back to Temple.  Life is complicated.  Even the most heartfelt and best intentions cannot always be carried out.  But come what may, we are required to keep our word.  On Yom Kippur we have the opportunity to examine and close the gap between the words we say and the ways that we must ultimately choose to live to truly fulfill our commitments.

If we say that this place is important to us, then we must keep our word and live our lives so that it reflects our commitment.  Our children learn what they live.  We are what we live.

This year our Hudson Valley is Celebrating the 400^th Anniversary of Henry Hudson’s Virgin Voyage up the Hudson River.  We, like many other institutions in Kingston planted hundreds of tulips that will bloom in the spring lining the streets of Kingston.  These tulips serve as a reminder of this community’s Dutch heritage.  Members of our Congegation have been active in various efforts throughout the region, one of our members was part of creating an Artist’s mural in celebration of the 400^th anniversary, another member’s original play was featured in the opening festivities here in Kingston, other members of our Community have worked diligently on the Sinterklaus festivities in Rhinebeck, for them this expresses their commitment to the celebration of diversity in our Community at large.   A family friend was the founder of the non-profit “Walk Across the Hudson”.  He has been pivotal in renovating the “old rail road bridge” that crosses over the Hudson in Poughkeepsie. Transformed into a magnificent park “Walk Across the Hudson” will straddle the river will not only be one of the Highlights of the 400^th Festivities, but an invaluable future asset for the community.  I watched my friend conceive of the idea and then translate his vision into action.  I walked on the bridge when the non-profit was first established, when under major construction, we walked on exposed rusty metal rail road tracks and could look down between our legs a dizzying 212 feet to the crashing waves of the Hudson below us.  Today the cranes have completed their work and the construction crews are putting on the finishing touches of safety side rails, safety viewing glass integrated on the floor of the walking path a finished rail trail for the grand opening of the 400^th anniversary of the Hudson.  I imagine that my great grandchildren will someday walk on this bridge and their parents will remind them of our family’s connection to the project.  Imagine having been instrumental in creating and assuring a fixture that will serve a community for generations to come.  Be certain to leave wherever you are, a little bit better than how it was when you arrived.

Our tradition reveres not the material gains one acquires but rather the courage, vision and generosity with which one gives.  Jewish giving, tzedakah, is antithetical to the values of “secular culture”.  We give because this is our privilege.  We give because this is fundamental to our belief about how we need to be in the world.  We give because tzedakah enables us to do what is right.

Dues, script, bingo are about creating the base for paying for services provided.  Tzedakah Jewish charitable giving, that without which no Synagogue in the Country can exist, is about being certain that your presence here inspires and necessitates your making certain that Temple Emanuel will be better than how it was when you arrived.

Approximately 18% of our budget must be secured by “charitable giving”, not dues but charitable giving, in order for us to be successful in creating and assuring a fixture of living Jewish values, a center for Jewish prayer, observance and ritual, a place of Jewish learning, expressions of Jewish culture and a seat for Jewish socializing. 

This year on the 155^th Anniversary of Temple Emanuel, we need not to be fearful but we must be absolutely pro-active and mindful, it is time to take personal responsibility and translate our words of commitment into deed and render our Temple Community a better place because we will make it a community not only for how it has served each individual member’s needs yesterday and today but because we choose to create a legacy that reflects our values, our identity and what is important to us for generations to come.

I imagine that our great great grandchildren will come to this Temple and their parents will tell them that each and every one of you were instrumental in assuring a thriving Jewish Community in the mid-Hudson Valley that you made viable for the future.

Always be cautious but never be afraid.

No matter what happens, always keep your word.

And be certain to leave wherever you are, a little bit better than how it was when you arrived.

Rabbi Yael Romer, Yom Kippur 5770