Sermon for Rosh HaShana

Judy Goldsmith

When I went off to college, more years ago than it feels like, I thought I was going into a new social setting, a chance to redefine myself from scratch. However, soon after I arrived, I met a fellow math major, and hit it off with him in the worst possible way. I don't remember why we annoyed each other so much, but we did. Yet every year around the Days of Awe, we would see each other after class or in the library, and we would speak together pleasantly and shake hands, and I would walk off feeling at peace with him. That ritual was part of what marked the season for me. I always walked away from that handshake a bit happier, a bit more ready to face the rest of the world.

I would love, as a story teller, to tell you that he and I became fast friends. In fact, we did not. But after 3 or so years, we gave up on our animosity. If I were to meet him now, we would probably be completely pleasant to each other. And probably quickly bored by each other.

The point of my story isn't to set a romance, but to talk about how persistence pays off. Despite my animosity -- and I remember that this man made me really mad! --- I persisted in seeking and offering forgiveness and reconciliation each year. The payoff wasn't romance or longlasting friendship, but it was a peacefulness where there had been strife.

In fact, that story is one of the better ones in praise of persistence. Each time I persisted, I felt noticeably better.

There are times when persistence doesn't seem to pay off. For instance, when I was in Sunday school, I read short stories about the Baal Shem Tov and his followers. I too wanted to reach that state of ecstasy from prayer. I tried. I tried prayer; I tried yoga and meditation. And I was frustrated. I thought that it was never gonna work for me. And sometimes I gave up, let myself think about work during the silent meditations, let pettiness creep in. But every once in a while, I touched the far outskirts of transcendence. Sometimes it has been in the midst of services, sometimes somewhere apparently secular. I am convinced, though, that all of that has been possible because I continue to seek it, continue to pray, continue to meditate and to allow it to be possible.

I would that all of our forgiving, our seeking forgiveness and making amends brought feelings of peace and acceptance. They don't. I would that we could all reach higher states each time we pray. I don't know about you; I still don't, most of the time. I don't even remember to try, to open myself to the possibility each time. But I keep going through the motions, and I try to remember, try to let go of the mundane thoughts that crowd into my head. Because persistence is one of the most important qualities we have.

Moses described the Jews to G-d by saying, "We are a proud and stiff-necked people." I think of that not only when I go to the chiropractor, but when I find myself acting stubborn, or see another Jew acting stubborn. I won't go so far as to say we are all stubborn, but I expect that everyone here has acted stubbornly. "Stubborn" is a word that people use derogatorily. Yet it is only a small step from "stubborn" to "persistent." And --- in my inspirational-speaker voice I say --- from "persistent" to "successful."

When things are going well, when you're getting what you want done, it's easy to repeat what you've been doing. But what about those times when nothing is going right, or the even more common times when some things just aren't working out? Those are the times when we need to persist in doing what we believe or know is right; those are the times when we need to keep trying.

What is the difference between "stubborn" and "persistent"? Stubborn means doing the same thing over and over, holding the same idea fixed. Persistent means continuing to try to reach a goal, by whatever means seem most appropriate.

Stubborn is trying to climb an icy slope in smooth-soled shoes, over and over. Persistent is going out and getting cleats or crampons and trying again. Stubborn is being determined to solve the problem; persistent is seeking out help, and more help if needed, to solve the problem.

Persistence is not giving up. Persistence is trying again to make peace, even though both sides claim irreconcilable differences, because maybe this time they'll find common ground. Persistence got the Irish factions speaking to each other; persistence is necessary to resolve what's going on in Israel.

Simple persistence, of course, isn't enough. We need creativity, flexibility. We sometimes need to give up something important to get something else. We might need to give up territory or political power or control to get peace. And we certainly won't get it suddenly and completely.

And of course, it matters what our goals are. Kenneth Starr was persistent; what did he get? But this is not a time for me to preach about what is right. It is essential to these Days of Awe that we each figure that out for ourselves. What I am addressing is how we go about doing what we believe is right.

I can't promise you great joy and quick pay-offs. I can't even promise small happiness. But unlike stubbornness, persistence applies to prayers, to meditations, to the roads internal peace as well as international peace. And there is a peace and even sometimes a sense of transcendence, even dare I say a sense of holiness, in the acts of trying to do what is right. So I encourage you to keep reaching out. And to keep reaching in, in to the places most sacred and awesome. By reaching inward, by praying with a full heart, we can open the gates of Heaven. And by acting, we keep open earthly gates. And perhaps it is not the great single acts, but the pattern of persistence that will connect our worlds, will bring our prayers and pleas to G-d's ears. And will bring us out of this season of awe blessed and renewed with the promise of the upcoming year.