Rabbi Stephen Weiss
Kol Nidre (Yom Kippur) 2018
Our challenge in life is to uncover our purpose and to work for its realization.
No one else was in the room where it happened
The room where it happened
The room where it happened
No one else was in the room where it happened
The room where it happened
The room where it happened
No one really knows how the game is played
The art of the trade
How the sausage gets made
We just assume that it happens
No one else is in the room where it happens
This song is the key to understanding what is, for me, the central message of the smash hit musical Hamilton. The entire play is built around the relationship between Alexander Hamilton and his frenemy, Aaron Burr. Hamilton, the young, brash immigrant from the Caribbean, experiences a meteoric rise from obscurity to become a central figure in the founding of our country. Burr, who becomes something more like a footnote, in the end will be most remembered for shooting Hamilton. Throughout the play, Burr expresses his surprise and dismay that this neophyte somehow has managed to succeed where he has not. His frustration is captured in this song in which he seems mystified as to how Hamilton managed to cut a deal with Madison and Jefferson to move the capital to the Potomac in exchange for control of the nascent nationâs banking system which would remain in New York. At the end of the song Burr laments that:
I wanna be in the room where it happensâŚ
Iâve got to be in the room where it happens
Aaron Burr may want to be in the room where it happens, but he never is in that room for one simple reason: Burr has no reason to be in the room. He has no vision, no purpose.
Remember Burrâs advice to Hamilton:
Talk less, smile more
Donât let them know what youâre against or what youâre for
Burr is like Alice standing before the Chesire Cat. “Would you tell me please,â asked Alice, âwhich way I ought to go from here?” “That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the cat. “I don’t much care where,” said Alice. “Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the cat.
It doesnât matter to Burr which way he goes, whose side he takes. Burr wants to stand out, but he doesnât stand for anything as long as he can get ahead.
And because Burr only cares about getting ahead, he has never contemplated what he really wants, what his own purpose really is.
In another song, Burr sings:
And if there’s a reason I’m still alive / When so many have died / Then I’m willin’ to wait for it.
Wait for it. Burr has no passion in life, no sense of higher purpose. He is just waiting as if it will suddenly just hit him out of the blue without any effort on his part. Wait for it becomes a refrain associated with Burr throughout the play. Burr is willing to wait to discover for the reason he is alive. Heâll wait his whole life. Not so Hamilton, who sings that just like his country, he is young, scrappy and hungry and he is not throwing away his shot.
Sure Hamilton, just like Burr, wants to make a name for himself. But Hamilton knows what he wants that name to be, what he wants to be remembered for. Throughout the play we hear again and again about Hamiltonâs ideas, his vision for the new nation he is helping to create. He understands that the colonies are struggling under the oppressive taxation of their British masters and that they need independence in order to flourish and pursue their own destiny. And he is willing to lay down his life to secure that freedom. He has a vision for a national banking system that will tie the states together and also maintain the importance of New York City. He is also outspoken against slavery. When Hamilton sings Iâm not throwing away my shot he doesnât just mean his shot at fame, he means his shot at accomplishing his dreams, his dreams of a better life, a better society, a better nation.
And the question we are bidden to ask ourselves on this night, on this most holy day of Yom Kippur, is who do you want to be like? Aaron Burr or Alexander Hamilton?
Are you waiting for life to happen to you? Or are you making life happen?
Are you mostly concerned with getting into the room where it happens?
Or are you most concerned with what will happen in that room?
Do you know what you are passionate about?
Do you know what are your priorities and goals in life?
Do you know what is the legacy that you seek to leave behind? And what are you willing to do to make that legacy a reality?
The great German Jewish philosopher Martin Buber, author of I and Thou, wrote: âEvery person born into the world represents something unique. If not, they would not have been born.â That is to say: there is a reason that you are here, a purpose you are meant to fulfill. Our challenge in life is to uncover our purpose and to work for its realization.
It would be nice if in this next segment of my sermon I could tell you each what is your divine purpose in life. But life is just not that simple. Once, years ago, Oprah Winfrey had an episode of her television show where in its opening segment she promised to reveal the purpose of life. What an attention getter. Can you imagine all the people tuned in to that episode, glued to their TVs with their VCRs running? But it turned into one of those endless-delay network-type tricks where they always say, âNow, coming up, right after this commercial break, weâll tell you.â âStay tuned. Right after these messages.â And then, when the whole hour was over, and Oprah hadnât said anything about it, she looked into the camera, gave a little shrug and said: âWell, the purpose of life? Youâve got to figure that out for yourself. Look within.â
Look within. Thatâs what these Days of Awe are all about, arenât they? Looking within. In Hebrew we call that Heshbon HaNefesh â taking an accounting of our soul. During these days we are bidden to examine our character, to look unflinchingly at our flaws and failures and ask ourselves how we will seek to mend them in the coming year. Until we can honestly confront our own moral failures we cannot ever achieve true repentance.
But a full soul accounting requires that we look not only at our character deficits but also at our character assets, to embrace and nurture those nobler aspects of ourselves that help us, in the words of Hamilton, to Rise Up, to strive to be our best selves, to be ready to sacrifice for the good of a higher purpose. On these days we are bidden to ask ourselves how we can utilize our character assets to invest in those around us and create a better world. How do we live up to the potential that God has planted within us and to our role as Gods partners in the divine plan? This in the end is the meaning of one aspect of the covenant God forms with our father Abraham when God says: vâheyeh bracha â âBe a blessing.â And in your quest to uncover your life mission, I can offer you this much guidance: Your purpose â in whatever many forms it takes — is to be a blessing.
What does it mean to be a blessing? Let me share with you a story. Once, long ago, a Jew was wandering deep in the forest when he came upon a house nestled among the trees. What a strange place for a house, he thought. He circled the house and the door was open, but it seemed that no one was home. He knocked on the door and called out, but no one answered. Curious, he stepped inside. The first floor was one large room filled with tables overflowing with oil lamps, and they were all burning brightly. He tried to count how many there were, but they seemed endless. As he stood there, an old man appeared by his side.
What are these lamps? The Jew asked. Ah, said the old man. Each of those lamps represents a human soul. You mean, asked the Jew, there is a lamp here for every human life in the world? Yes, said the man. Well then, said the Jew, where is mine? And the old man pointed out a shiny silver vessel spouting a glowing oil wick. That flame, said the man, is you. As the Jew watched, another one of the flames weakened, flickered, and went out. The old man pointed to the extinguished lamp and said when the flame dies out, that life has reached its end.
The Jew stood there gazing at the candles for some time, trying to comprehend the meaning of this strange experience, when he noticed that the flame in his oil lamp was also weakening and sputtering. He panicked, fearful of death. âWhat do I do?â He cried out, but as he turned around he saw that the man was gone. With no one to watch and not wanting his own light to extinguish, the Jew picked up a nearby oil lamp and lifted it up so he could pour some of its oil into his own. Just then the old man reappeared and gripped his arm like a vice, forcing him to lower the other oil lamp. It does not work that way, said the man. In order to make your light burn brighter, you must pour the oil from your lamp into others.
That, my friends, is what it means to be a blessing. So look within and ask yourself how you can make others lights burn brighter. How will you be a blessing in the coming year? How will you be a blessing to your parents? Your spouse? Your siblings? How will you be a blessing to your employees, your coworkers, your employer? How will you be a blessing to this synagogue? To your community? To Israel? How will you be a blessing to the downtrodden and the stranger? What are the gifts that God has given you that you can nurture and pay forward, so that you can be a blessing to others?
It was Ralph Waldo Emerson who once said: âThe purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.â What difference will it have made that you lived? What legacy will you leave behind? Whose lives will you have touched? If you can figure that out, you will know your lifeâs purpose.
This year letâs make this the room where it happens. Right now, right here in this holy place, on this holiest day of the year, let us make our own âbackroom dealâ with God, a deal only known in the room in our hearts. Let us pledge to God that we will offer ourselves up in Godâs service, to recognize our purpose and be a blessing to others by seeking to Rise Up and be the best that we can be, and in being a blessing to others, may we ourselves be worthy of Gods blessings.