Rosh Hashanah Evening Sermon
September 22, 2006
Changing Light Bulbs
Rabbi Anthony D. Holz
An old joke asks a question: how many psychiatrists does it take to change a light bulb? The answer of course is: one psychiatrist - but the light bulb has to really want to change.
This joke humorously reminds us that change is not easy. We know that some transformations, like death or other disasters, may simply overwhelm us. But, consciously and deliberately changing, modifying ourselves and our lives is hard and will only occur if we really want to change.
This is certainly true for individuals who keep repeating patterns of thought and behavior that hurt themselves and others. It may well take a painful crisis and the risk of losing what is most precious to unleash the inner energy that enables people to get the help they need, so that they can do the hard work of altering their patterns of thought and behavior. Only through such change does a fuller and happier life become a realistic possibility.
Undertaking conscious and deliberate change is also hard for a congregation that has been around for a long time. Old patterns of thinking and doing are known and familiar. Even if they sometimes now get in the way of the ongoing health and vitality of the congregation, it is frequently easier to keep things the way they are. And so, new thoughts and bold actions tend to be resisted. It is hard work to muster the energy, the leadership and the finances that will enable the congregation to be as successful at meeting the needs of members in the future as it long was able to do in a very different past. As with individuals, so too with congregations, meaningful improvement only becomes a reality when the shared will is strong enough to overcome the inertia and the status quo. The light bulb has to really want to be change.
We can also apply this idea to much of the Middle East. Knowing how difficult it is to alter long-standing patterns of thought and behavior, I believe that in spite of all the negative international news that bombards us on a seemingly daily basis there is reason for some optimism. As we begin our Jewish New Year and Muslims observe the beginning of Ramadan, there is reason to think that, in spite of contrary news at this moment in time, modern Israel, the Palestinians and much of the modern Middle East have at last reached a crucial turning point. If this is so, then (with the active support of America, the Europeans and the international community) the Jewish State and all its immediate Arab neighbors are now more than ready to establish both a secure, stable, ultimately prosperous Palestine and a modern Israel at peace with its neighbors, within the framework of a Middle East into which Israelis (in the recent words of Jordan’s King Abdullah) “Are fully integrated -- socially, economically, politically and culturally.”
Given the intransigence of leader of Hamas and Hezbollah, such optimism and visions of a more peaceful future for Israel and its neighbors may seem sadly out of touch with reality. But, in fact, I believe that such a major shift may well happen not in spite of all but because of all that has happened. After the many decades of disappointed hopes, hostility and violence, and after the recent terribly disruptive and apparently inconclusive war between Israel and Hezbollah in Lebanon and between Israel and Hamas in the Gaza Strip, a war that has built up so much tension in the Arab world and so much unhappiness in Israel, it is becoming clear that all the major players are sick and tired of the old, and are yearning for a future that will be better. This yearning can have dramatic, long-term consequences. For it may well signal the approach of a time when the major players are at last ready to make the hard decisions and take the crucial steps that will permanently change themselves and the Middle East, and bring not illusion but real hope of a better future to millions.
At this point in time, the potential alternative to genuine movement in such a direction has become simply intolerable not only to Israel, the Palestinian masses and the Lebanese, but to the leaders in Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Jordan and probably also Syria.
Again, quoting the words of King Abdullah that appeared in last week’s issue of Time magazine: “This really is ‘one of the last chances’ for peace…There is movement by core Arab and Muslim countries, [Saudi Arabia, Egypt and Jordan] saying, Look, if we solve the Palestinian issue, it is one major step forward in bringing peace and stability to the region.”
As the king puts it: “We are running out of arguments. If we don’t see tangible results on the ground by 2007, then I don’t think there will ever be a Palestinian state. Then I think we are doomed to another decade or decades of violence between Israelis and Arabs, which affect everybody.”
As we begin this New Year, provided everyone involved (including our own government) does their homework and puts in the huge investment of time and effort and money to make a meaningful shift to a better shared future, I unexpectedly find reason for qualified but genuine optimism: Apart from and largely because of Iran, the Middle East of today has become a light bulb that really wants to change.
More than one hundred years ago Theodor Herzl, the founder of modern Zionism, got it right when he said, “If you will it, it is no dream.”
Human feelings and emotions matter. Human intelligence, ingenuity and creativity are of great value. But for any meaningful transformation towards a better future, the essential component is what we human beings want, the intensely focused willpower that overcomes all obstacles and opposition.
I have shared with you my perhaps strange understanding of the current Middle Eastern crisis. I similarly believe that our beloved congregation best moves forward when its decision-makers muster the will to do what must be done, so as to insure the future of this holy congregation.
The old patterns are seductively familiar and comfortable and the conflicting pressures of everyday life make it easy to become distracted, so that our willpower becomes diffused and ineffective. I know from personal experience how difficult it is, and how much effort it takes to change our individual, congregational and national patterns of thought and behavior.
But, as we seek to grow and improve, that is our task. And when we get it right, it will certainly be our fulfillment. For me, being a Reform rabbi means helping such change take place. For Israel, for Kahal Kadosh Beth Elohim, and for each one of us, it is my hope and prayer that in the Hebrew year 5767 we will all be inscribed for a good year.
Shana Tova Tikateivu.
Amen