Stranger than fiction, last February, Adam Burtle, a 20-year-old University of Washington student and part-time auto mechanic, offered his soul for sale on the eBay auction site. Apparently, similar sales have been blocked in the past, but the offer of Burtle's soul slipped through.

The self-described atheist listed a photo of himself, accompanied by this disclaimer:

. . . I make no warranties as to the condition of the soul. As of now, it is near mint condition, with only minor scratches. Due to difficulties involved with removing my soul, the winning bidder will either have to settle for a night of yummy Thai food and cool Indie flicks, or wait until my natural death.

The bidding for Burtle's soul began at five cents, but in the final hour of the auction, it was sold to a woman in Des Moines, Iowa, for $400.00!

How much is your soul worth? Would you auction it off for $400.00 -- for ten times $400.00? I surely hope not! As Jews, we have gathered here on the Eve of Yom Kippur in earnest pursuit of reconditioning our souls; not to offer them for sale, but to elevate them in search of God. That's what Kol Nidre really is, you know: the song of the soul seeking God.

Deep inside we know that something is amiss; all is not right. And with T.S. Eliot we are moved to reproach ourselves, asking:

Where is the Life we have lost in living?
Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?
Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?

Learning usually passes through three stages. In the beginning we learn the right answers. In the second stage we learn the right questions. But in the third and final stage, we learn which questions are really worth asking.

With what shall I come before the Lord and bow myself before God on high?

Getting down to the essence of faith, after discounting God's interest in burnt offerings of rams or rivers of precious oil or, God forbid, the sacrifice of one's own dearest children ("the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul," as Micah puts it), the Prophet finally sets it straight:

What is it that the Lord really wants of us? Well, says, Micah, God has already told us:

Kee-eem Assot Mishpat (only to do justly), v'ahavat chesed (and to love kindness), v'hatznayah Lechet-eem Eloheh-cha (and to walk humbly with your God).

Now, here's the tricky part for me -- the preacher -- because, following the vicious attack on our nation by forces of unprecedented terrorist violence, there is an overwhelming temptation to spend this time with you on this holy eve condemning and highlighting an array of examples of human injustice, here in New Orleans, across America, and throughout the world.

But, I want to talk with you tonight about you and me--not Osama bin Laden and his ilk. I need to speak with you on a scale of one-to-one, not of groups, corporations, or nations, but heart to heart.

In this moment of overwhelming moral crisis, perhaps the message most needing to be understood on this Kol Nidre Eve is that we are all living at "Ground Zero." And we are each of us foot soldiers on the frontline of a titanic struggle between good and evil.

Micah knew it and so did his fellow prophets, and so must we! If you want to do justice to yourself and to your potential to make a healthful difference, don't be looking for a life of smooth tranquility! Just when each one of these prophets thought they had their world organized in a neat little order, under firm control, God showed up and ordered them to swim out into deeper waters--and so must we.
 
 

So I want to tell you this number one: when things are tough and you've really had it, and when your faith seems to have gone and deserted you, then what can you do but do your duty? "Keep on keeping on," as they say. In raw courage, dare to take a step further, believing the way will be shown you. Philosophically, be like that baseball player who summarized the essence of his game and of life when, in speaking of baseball, he concluded:

When they throw it, I hit it, and when they hit it, I catch it.

#1-When you've really had it-what can you do but do your duty?
 
 

What I am suggesting here is that at its bedrock, life ought not to be expected to be calm. Self-satisfied contentment is a myth. The Prophets mean to tell us that we attain to a higher level of living when we discover the depth of our restlessness: when feeling found, we begin to wonder if we could be lost; when we think we see, and discover, instead, that we are really blind!

So, the second thing I want to say to you is, go ahead and look back on what has happened in your life so far, but remember, there's got to be some statute of limitations on some of the bad stuff. This evening is all about forgiveness--of ourselves and of others.

"The road to wisdom?" asks the Poet. Well, it's plain and simple to express.

Err,
and err,
And err again.

But less,
and less,
and less.

I've got to go on, but not before I mention our beautiful and often maddening children. Talk about tension! Tension is inseparable from love. There is no love that has no tension in it. You can't have passion without tension; do you understand that?

I meet with parents who can't believe how difficult and stubborn their children have become.  "They were so pliant, so cute, so perfect, Rabbi, when they were little, but now they've begun to act as if they have minds of their own!"

We so easily forget the old aphorism:

The parent having found is but the warrant for the children's search.

#2-When you look back, cut yourself and others some slack.
 
 

And finally, how shall we do justice to the future--to ourselves and to others? Well, we bring to it our sacred tradition--our Judaism. You know what we're doing? We're embracing Judaism's certainties about our human nature--our ability to change, to return, and to reclaim our higher selves and to better our lifetime averages.

As we face the unknowable future, we are wise to accept the fact of its inevitable tensions. In prescribing those three steps towards fulfilling God's expectations of us, the Prophet Micah certainly knew they would not come naturally to our nature.

Early in his monumental work, The Remembrance of Things Past, Marcel Proust alludes to a certain painful incident in his life. He writes,

In my cowardice I became at once a man, and I did what all we grown men do when we are face-to-face with suffering and injustice: I preferred not to see them.

The entirety of the Prophetic message and the heart of this Kol Nidre Eve calls to you and me across the ages to stretch ourselves and to grow. Why is it that so many of us would rather die than change?

I'm telling you tonight, don't settle in life for too little! You can succeed only at 10^th rate occupations. Says one pianist:

I play only music too great to be played.

This evening invites us to part company with the conventional and, forsaking the way of the world, proceed to the world of the Way -- the sacred way!

Yes, our lives are filled with tension (Creation began in chaos!), and the Prophets knew so well that tense times also bring us new creative energies and courageous realizations. Ours is not to sell our souls on eBay, but to redeem them! How? Micah tells us how-

Assot Mishpat--Do justly.
Ahavat Chesed--Love kindness.
V'hatzmay-ah Lechet 'eem Elohehcha--And walk humbly with your God.

As its melody comforts, may it also open our eyes and instruct:
The last word has not been spoken,
the last sentence has not been written,
the verdict is not in.

This sacred melody speaks to our souls-and it reassures-This soul's not for sale!
 

It's never too late to overcome despair,
to turn sorrow into resolve,
and pain into purpose.
. . . to say no to the past
and yes to the future,
to ask and give forgiveness.

It's never too late, to start over again.

Kol Nidre-the song of soul seeking God!