Asking the Right Questions
A Rosh Hashanah Sermon
It is almost unfathomable that today is one year after October 7th. The world seems so much the same, and yet utterly transformed since three-hundred and sixty-six days ago. The whole world is looking at itself, wondering what will be in a week, a month, or even a year from now.
Jews have themselves been asking the same question — not just of the world, but of themselves and of God. This past week was our new year’s ceremony, Rosh Hashana. There were no fireworks, dropping balls, or parading dragons, but instead a two-day liturgical coronation of the Lord, affirming his judgment and kingship over the world and his merciful covenant. This launches an intense period of self-reflection, the aseret yemei teshuva, before Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.
These days propel us towards evaluating the future — what will be? Will we muster the strength to change, to do teshuva? Will we be inscribed in the Book of Life? This question seemed, this year, more uncertain than ever.
While faith can offer a spiritual and soul-filling approach to such difficult questions, a lack of sustainable answers in our broader culture have given way to a rise in purposelessness. We look out into the world (or upon our screens) and witness an epidemic of loss:
Lost souls on the internet look for purpose by shooting schools or presidents.
Lost religious groups devolve into platitude platforms or death cults.
Lost political movements court tribalism, dangerous revisionism, and shamanistic mirages of oppressor and oppressed.
Lost businesses retrench themselves in owning old creativity rather than encouraging it anew.
Lost kids look for validation from a digital world that sees them ultimately as a product, not a person.
Lost minds are now unable to read entire books, and increasingly consume gloomy, post-apocalyptic media to mirror their depression.
With this bombardment of disorientation and loss, what antidote is there?
To address this timely and important question, I’m honored to share the wisdom of my wife, Rabbi Elyssa Joy Austerklein. These are the words that she preached last Wednesday at the Open Door High Holidays in Sarasota, Florida. The rabbi’s keen sense of Jewish text on this subject, and her deep faith, inspire me this penitential season — and I hope you as well.
Should We Go Extinct? by Rabbi Elyssa Austerklein
A Rosh HaShanah Sermon
A month or so ago, I was in a small mom-and-pop bookstore perusing the shelves when a book title popped out at me: Should We Go Extinct? written by Todd May.
The title itself was jarring; a swirl of emotions rose up in me.
To me, the question itself is flawed — it is a question that is full of ego. It assumes that human beings are either all powerful and in complete charge of our own collective fate. Or it assumes that we are completely powerless and things just happen to us.
It is not a Jewish question. Or maybe it is a Jewish question, but one for which we have already been told the answer:
“The Sages taught the following: For two and a half years, Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel disagreed. Beit Shammai would say: It would have been preferable had humankind not been created than to have been created. And Beit Hillel said: It is preferable for humankind to have been created than had he not been created.
Together they concluded: It would have been preferable had humankind not been created than to have been created. However, now that we have been created, we should examine our past actions and seek to correct them. And some say: We should scrutinize our planned actions and evaluate whether or not and in what manner those actions should be performed.”1
This piece of Talmud tells us that the more harsh point of view, as Beit Shammai often takes, believes that humankind is rotten. Beit Hillel’s point of view focuses on our goodness. Looking forward, they both agree that the project of being alive requires us to reflect and to resolve to do better.
Now that we are here, the Jewish answer to the question of whether we should go extinct is that we must do everything to do our best. The time spent contemplating whether we are deserving to be here can instead be used for doing acts of lovingkindness — seeking to improve the life of one other person, even for one minute.
The Holy One has equipped us with free will - to choose life, to choose kindness, to choose love even in the face of sadness, corruption, grief. And there is a Divine Will, too, one which chose to give us this incredible life.
In the Unetaneh Tokef prayer which we chanted through this morning, the metaphor used is of each one of us passing under the staff of the Shepherd, counted and accounted for. Daily, we chant the words of the v’ahavta which begs us to choose to love God with all my heart, with all my soul, and with all my might. That we might one day find that our individual will is aligned with the Divine Will.
In the Talmud it is asked: “Is it possible to follow after the Divine Presence?” In other words: can human beings really follow the Will of God? It is explained:
“The meaning is that one should follow the attributes of the Holy One. Just as God clothes the naked, as in Genesis: “God made for Adam and for his wife garments of skin, and clothed them” (Genesis 3:21), so too, should you clothe the naked. Just
as the Holy One, visits the sick, as God appeared to Abraham following his circumcision, so too, should you visit the sick. Just as the Holy One, consoles mourners: “It came to pass after the death of Abraham, that God blessed Isaac his son” (Genesis 25:11), so too, should you console mourners. Just as the Holy One, buried the dead, as God Godself buried Moses, so too, should you bury the dead. . .
With regard to the Torah, its beginning is an act of kindness and its end is an act of kindness. In the beginning God clothed the naked, and in the end God buried Moses.”2
Should we go extinct?
When I was pregnant with my first child, a teacher of Torah I knew said to me: “Thank you for having faith in humankind.” At first I thought: that was a bizarre thing to say! After all, wanting children can, for some, be almost instinctive. But in thinking about it, I realized how profound it was. I recognized the truth of his words —that choosing to bring another life into this world is an act of great faith.
Though I didn’t buy the book, I decided to search the library catalog. On my computer, I typed in the words “should we go extinct” into the search bar. Three books came up, but none of them were Todd May’s. Nonetheless, the search results were quite instructive.
Three titles, three books.
Do they answer the question posed? See for yourself.
Book #1: Thank You for Being Late: an Optimist's Guide to Thriving in the Age of Accelerations (2016) by Thomas Friedman. This is about the speed at which technology, computers, and worldwide economic interdependency has accelerated and the pressures put on Mother Nature and humankind as we navigate and live through
change.Book #2: Plasticus Maritimus: An Invasive Species (2020), by biologist, Ana Pego. This is actually a book for youth, and we’ve taken it out of the library before. It is about plastic in the oceans — how to recognize it, its effects, and ideas for living with less of it.
Book #3: Auschwitz: A New History (2005) by Laurence Rees, who interviewed over one hundred Auschwitz survivors and Nazi perpetrators.
Boiled down, two of these books are about current reality and possible solutions or improvements. The third book is about history and how horrible we can be. And yet, we’re still here. And by we, I mean humankind and the Jews.
Jewish legends tell the story of when God was contemplating creating us:
“When the Holy One was about to create Adam the first human, the ministering angels divided into various factions and various groups. Some of them were saying: ‘Let him not be created,’ and some of them were saying: ‘Let him be created.’ That is what iswritten in Psalms: “Kindness and truth met; righteousness and peace
touched” (Psalms 85:11). “Kindness said: ‘Let him be created, as he performs acts of
kindness.’ Truth said: ‘Let him not be created, as he is full of lies.’
Righteousness said: ‘Let him be created, as he performs acts of righteousness.’
Peace said: ‘Let him not be created, as he is full of discord.’”3
A tie! Kindness and Righteousness wanted us to be created, but Truth
and Peace voted “no.” The legend continues:
While the ministering angels were busy deliberating with one another and engaging with one another, the Holy One created the first human. Then God said to them: ‘Why are you deliberating? Humankind has already been created.’”
We are here.
And now that we are here, the question we need to be asking is how can we be better. Kindness and righteousness were already on our side. What can we do to get truth and peace on our side, too? Or — how can we pursue truth and peace and show them that we are worthy of their vote?
We are here — Hineni. When this word is uttered in the Torah, first by Abraham and then by Moses, it is the beginning of the recognition that we have a responsibility: I am here. And by being here, I need to do something — something to make this place better than it was when I found it. And when things slide in the wrong direction and I see the world run amuck, I have to ask myself —what can I do?
I am here.
Call upon the angels: Kindness, righteousness, truth, and peace.
Remember God’s ways: to clothe the naked, visit the sick, comfort the mourner, and bury the dead.
After the very first person was created, after eating of the forbidden fruit, he hid. And the Holy One called out to him: Ayeka — where are you?
We are not meant to hide from God, from ourselves, or from the world. We are not meant to ask the question: should we go extinct? We are meant to ask: How can I help? What can I make better? How can I be better?
I am here.
I am here.
I am here.
And in the Hebrew, the word our ancestors said, let us say together:
Hineni.
Rabbi Elyssa Joy Austerklein is the founding director of IVRIM: Jews Without Borders. She is a graduate of Brandeis University, BU School of Theology, and was ordained by the Rabbinical School of Hebrew College. She has published articles on ritual, midrash and poetry in the Forward, eJewish Philanthropy, Kerem, and Moment Magazine. Elyssa is a Rabbis Without Borders Fellow, and was named one of America’s most inspiring rabbis by The Forward. She has held pulpits in FL, OH, MD and AK in both Conservative and Reform congregations. She treasures that she and her children share in being artists and musicians.
BT Eiruvin 13b
BT Sotah 14a
Bereishit Rabbah 8
Beautiful words from your wife, Matt, and lovely to read her!