This is the sermon Rabbi Posen delivered on Yom Kippur, October 12, 2024.
Our theme this year as a kehilla, as a community, is “Amen: Be a Blessing.” I wonder if you’ve taken a good, long look at the logo. Have you noticed that “Amen” is on top, and below it, there are ellipses on both sides of “Be a Blessing”? We’ve been saying, “Amen: Be a Blessing,” but you could just as easily say, “Be a Blessing: Amen.” We’re used to hearing “amen” after a blessing anyway.
Whichever order you put these terms in, there’s no wrong way to express the idea of embodying blessing. In the same way that blessings don’t all fall into one neat category of situations. Yom Kippur is the perfect example of this. How do you greet people on Yom Kippur? Typically you don’t hear “Happy Yom Kippur.” You don’t usually hear “Chag sameach,” although there’s nothing wrong with saying that. After all, it’s not a sad holiday. But the greetings are on the solemn side. You hear “G’mar chatimah tovah” or “G’mar tov” or “Tzom kal.” People blessing each other to be sealed in the Book of Life or to have an easy fast. It’s our way of saying, “I know you’re going through something challenging, and I’m with you.”
This is the beauty of blessing in Judaism. In the Mishna, in Brachot 9, we encounter a truly nuanced understanding of this. It teaches us that we are obligated to recite a blessing for the bad just as we do for the good. Upon hearing good news or receiving rain, we recite the blessing, “Blessed are You, God, who is good and does good.”
But there’s also a blessing for bad news. What blessing do we offer after hearing of a death?
Right, for bad news, the blessing is “Blessed is the True Judge.”
It’s kind of a radical concept. How can we bless the bad as we do the good? Does this mean that we should celebrate misfortune? Not at all. The Mishna is inviting us to recognize that challenges, pain, suffering – these are also a part of life. When we say “Blessed is the True Judge” in moments of hardship, we’re not blessing the suffering itself; we’re affirming our faith in God’s wisdom and justice, even when we cannot understand it.
To me, this gives us a much broader understanding of blessing. It teaches us that blessing is not just about joy and prosperity; it’s about finding meaning in every experience, both the light and the dark. Blessing is about acceptance, about trust in God’s judgment, and about finding the strength to move forward despite our pain.
There’s a ton of ambiguity in Jewish blessing. Think about something as simple as “Baruch HaShem” which is a pet peeve of mine as a response. “How are you?” “Baruch HaShem.” “How’s work? How’re the kids?” “Baruch HaShem.” It’s the Jewish version of “It is what it is.” Is it bad? Is it good? Who knows.
It’s not that I’m bothered by a phrase saying “Blessed is God.” I just don’t think it’s an answer, at least not if you’re really trying to connect with someone. However, it is further proof of how we bless the good, the bad, and the in-between.
Here’s another example from the Mishna. Mishna Middot 2:1-2 gives us a vivid image of communal support. It describes the custom on the Temple Mount, where everyone entering would walk to the right and exit on the left, except for those in mourning or those who had been excommunicated. These individuals would walk in the opposite direction, signifying their sorrow or isolation. The community would respond with words of comfort, acknowledging their pain and offering a blessing of restoration.
“May the One who dwells in this house inspire them to draw you near again,” they would say to someone who had been excommunicated, signaling not just sympathy but a hope for reconciliation and reintegration into the community.
Being a blessing also means being attuned to the needs of those around us. It means offering comfort to the mourners, supporting those who feel alienated, and working toward healing fractured relationships. Yom Kippur is a time for personal reflection, but also a time to recommit ourselves to communal responsibility. To be a blessing is to recognize when others are in pain and to respond with empathy and action. Blessing is the good and the bad.
The “amen” part of our theme is just as broad. The word amen, as we say after each blessing, has its own significance. Its roots come from emunah (faith) and emet (truth). When we say amen, we are affirming not only the truth of the blessing but also expressing our faith in its power and significance.
In the Talmud Brachot 53b, Rabbi Yosi teaches, “Greater is the one who says Amen than the one who says a blessing.” Intriguing, right? Why might the responder be greater than the one who blesses?
Perhaps it’s because the blessing itself can be a solo act, but saying amen is an act of creating community. When we say amen to someone’s blessing, we are joining them, affirming their words, and sharing in the spiritual moment. The one who says amen acknowledges the blessing’s truth and power, making it a collective experience. On Yom Kippur, when we come together in prayer, it’s a chorus of amens.
It’s amazing how one word transforms blessings from individual acts to communal ones. It reminds us that no one prays alone. Even in our most personal moments of reflection and atonement, we are part of a greater whole. Blessings are most powerful when shared.
So, what does it mean to be a blessing on this Yom Kippur? It means embracing the fullness of life, both the joy and the sorrow, and seeing every moment as an opportunity to affirm our faith, to say amen to both the good and the bad. It means recognizing our role in creating blessings for others, whether through words of kindness, acts of charity, or simply by being present for someone in need.
On Yom Kippur, we are asked to confront both the good and the bad in our lives. We confess our shortcomings, acknowledge our failures, and seek forgiveness. But we also acknowledge the moments of joy, the blessings we’ve received, and the ways in which we have been able to bring blessings into the lives of others. Both are necessary to fully live out our call to be a blessing.
As we enter the new year, may we strive to embody the call given to Abram: “You shall be a blessing.” May we bless others with our actions, with our compassion, and with our presence. May we find the courage to say amen to the challenges we face, trusting that even in our struggles, there is an opportunity for growth and connection.
G’mar chatimah tovah—may we all be sealed in the Book of Life, and may our year ahead be filled with the blessings of peace, compassion, and hope.
