I wonder, do you remember Rabbi Gus Buchdahl? He came to Temple Sinai a few years back in order to install Cantor Michael Schochet. Well he retired this year from his pulpit in Baltimore and, in a published interview, Rabbi Buchdahl made reference to an unusual art exhibit he once attended. It was entirely comprised of painted doors and sinks. The Rabbi asked the artist- "What in the world did you have in mind here?" And, looking up at the sinks and doors, the artist answered:

Now, the Rabbi went on to elaborate:

How you handle transition is part of life. From being single to married, from being a child to a parent, from being a child to an orphan, to being a grandparent.

And then Rabbi Buchdahl concluded, commenting on his long-time fascination in observing folks in airports and train stations:
 

I like places where people are coming from some place and going some place, and they are neither where they are coming from nor where they are going to. (Because) that's a ... metaphor for where we all are."

Such is the mood of this evening of Selichot. This is a night of transitions and in-betweens. We prepare ourselves to set out from the past (what was and has been) toward the future (what shall yet be). And in so doing we live soberly and thoughtfully during this time in between.

Today, for all of our vaunted and highly prized communications toys- our minuscule cell phones, fax machines, and designer neckties with internet capability- we are too often like pinballs spinning wildly out of control from one place to another, truly out of touch with ourselves and with what matters most.

So, thank the Good Lord, along come these Days of Awe, an opportunity (not a moment too soon) for mapping out a more prudent and thoughtful strategy for living. The first century sage, Rabbi Akavyah ben Mahalel, obsessing over just such a strategy, pondering it long and hard, refracted his approach into this enduring prescription.

Mark well three things and you will not miss the purpose of life. Know where you came from, know where you are going, and know to whom you are destined to give an account at last.

Now I want you to think about it. When all is said and done, isn't that exactly what our sacred Torah seeks to help us answer. From the first words of Genesis to the concluding verses of Deuteronomy, we are instructed in:

From where we came,

Where we are going, and

To whom we are destined to give an account at last.

In some ways, Jewish liberals face a far more daunting and difficult challenge in relating themselves to Torah. For we bring to it all of the "hang-ups" inherent with modernity:

Higher criticism and scholarly text analysis.

Theories of multiple authorship, questions regarding dating of texts, incongruencies, inconsistencies, and verifiabilities.

Scientific impossibilities, archeological discoveries, psychological hypotheses and theological heresies.

For the religious liberal, black and white is replaced with seemingly endless gradations of greys! So I confess, there were times early on in my sermon research when I thought, "Cohn, this will never work. You just go ahead and find an easier theme to address for this year." But I really didn't want to. I sought to explore the Torah with you during these holiest days of our Jewish year; together to engage in a Torah pilgrimage through life, drawing upon lessons and insights which could well serve to illumine our way with a greater sense of kidushah- of holiness.

That genius of Jewish conscience and thought, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, once made this assessment of the importance of Torah to you and me. He said:
 

... if other religions may be characterized as a relation between man and God, Judaism must be described as a relation between man with Torah, and God.

The Jew is never alone in the face of God; the Torah is always with him. A Jew without Torah is obsolete. The Torah is not the wisdom, but the destiny of Israel; not our literature but our essence.

I believe that Torah is our essence as Jews. We are not free to ignore Torah. We need to engage in an enlightened process of filtering it so as to find that which we ought to energetically apply to our own 21^st century setting. Of this process, let me say, Dr. Laura provides a fine example of what not to do!

Jewish liberals must be bold to look critically at Torah through a lens which clarifies the text in light of modern understandings, even as we also embrace our Torah with a deep and abiding respect for its incisive portrayal of both our grandeur and our foibles.

Commonly in life today, everything conspires to aid our cover-up and to obscure our rough spots. David Owen, in a recent "New Yorker" article, titled, "How I'm Doing," makes fun of our earnest efforts to pass social and ethical muster. He proposes a "sweeps week" approach to evaluate our performance.

From now on (he writes with tongue in cheek), ratings of my success as a parent will be based solely on
 

perceptions of my conduct during the two weeks beginning March 7^th (a.k.a. 'Spring vacation'), the two weeks beginning August 1^st (a.k.a. 'Summer vacation'), the seven days ending December 25^th, and my birthday. ...The opinions of my children will no longer be counted in evaluations of my sense of humor ...

All measures of my geniality, thoughtfulness, romantic disposition, and willingness to compromise will henceforth be calculated just three times per year: on my wife's birthday, our anniversary, and February 14^th.

My high school grades, S.A.T. scores, college grades, and income history will no longer be available for inclusion in any of my ratings, and in fact they will be expunged from my personal database.
 

Well Torah doesn't cut us that slack, does it? Warts and all, we are held to a standard of human comportment which goes so far as to bid us-

Rest assured, these High Holy Days are not intended as an exercise in no-fault indulgence. Far from it, because in engaging and living our Judaism and its Torah, we proclaim our human dignity! Not as hopeless weaklings, but as determined penitents who have turned it all around for the better and resolved to change and improve our record.

So here is what we're going to do beginning on RoshHaShanah evening. We're going to take a look at the Torah and, I hope, see that it is designed by its very organization to address us where we live.

We're going to recognize that the Torah does not begin with a platform of principles; it begins with stories of men and women which root us within the human family, and then, four generations later, brings us to our Jewish predecessor. And the question inherent for the Jew today- for you and me- is what are we going to do with this lifesaving and life-enhancing inheritance? What chapters will be added to the Torah by virtue of our actions, our loyalty, our sacrifice, our wisdom, our faith?

Our search is no different from that of our ancestors. For all of our technological sophistication, the questions we pose are no different from theirs:  from where have you come? And where are you going? And to whom are you destined to give an account and reckoning? Torah provides us a road map, which admittedly needs to be updated from time to time, but essentially it takes us from here to there; from dirty to clean, from in to out; from what was and has been, to what shall yet be.

So, my friends, if anyone should ask you what we're busy doing during this High Holy Day season, well you just tell them, "We're finding our way." And may God be with you and your dear ones in your search and in your every finding!