June 20, 2013  / 12 Tammuz,  5773

 “Some people believe holding on and hanging in there are signs of great strength. However, there are times when it takes much more strength to know when to let go and then do it.” ―Ann Landers

I concluded last week's thoughts on faith with the challenge of  "letting go of the fantasy that our faith is monolithic and embracing instead the attitude that each person has his or her own path and set of needs which should be accorded respect."

The art of "letting go" is a critical ingredient to the survival of any religious institution today - both on the part of the entity and its adherents. 

The synagogue, like its counterpart faith houses, is a bastion of tradition.  Its services and programs are laden with rituals, boundaries, and protocols that remind us of our religious heritage.  As we daven and study, we imagine ourselves adding a link to a precious chain of Jewish continuity.  The words, the tunes, the commentaries offer us the comfort of authenticity.  It is moving to witness our congregation while they recite the Amidah (the standing, devotional prayer) on Shabbat morning, as individuals follow the order of the blessings in the prayer book, each in his/her own manner of movement and pace but connected in the mission of communing with God at the peak of the Service. It is our custom to wait until nearly all of the worshipers have completed their devotions before continuing on to the next part ... a practice which is bolstered by the fact that the rabbi is one of the last individuals to complete, himself, the silent portion.

This specter is a fitting analogy for what we should be doing with other endeavors, be they dialogue, communal meals, or even ventures of social action:  the institution serves as an umbrella under which all members stand for protection, but everyone should be empowered to walk the activity with a sincere style that has been learned and can be openly displayed.  We, in our quest to see our culture renewed through the generations, owe every seeker the freedom to assert integrity.  While we are united in our goals and our purpose, we cannot expect, reasonably, neither to look alike, nor sound alike, nor walk alike.

But, this discharge from being stuck in our ways must be a two-way street.

All too often, I see the distractions caused by people dragging their baggage (much like travelers pulling their heavy luggage behind them while walking through an airport terminal).  Some are still lost in their traumas of Hebrew School days, others consumed by an unfulfilling encounter with their Rabbi, and many are scarred by a fellow congregant whose impatience was made manifest in a sarcastic or snide remark.

Marc & Angel Chernoff, who co-author a website featuring tips for productive living, argue that "holding on is like believing that there’s only a past; letting go and moving on is knowing in your heart that there’s a bright future ahead." They proceed to outline eight ways to design the latter (I encourage you to read them for yourself by clicking on 8 effective ways to let go and move on).  In short, the habit of letting go of our anger, our pet peeves, our leftover disappointments, are an implicit element toward our viability as a sacred community.

Next time, I look forward to taking up the mistaken notion that letting go is equivalent with resignation and giving up.