Today’s Torah reading draws us into the ritual choreography of the High Priest—the one person permitted to enter the inner sanctum and stand face-to-face with Divine power. A relationship wrapped in mystery and inaccessible to the average Israelite.
But I ask you: is such intimacy really inaccessible? And if not, is such intimacy meant to be hoarded by a select few—by only adepts and elites—hidden behind the veils of some imagined Holy of Holies?
On Yom Kippur, we are invited to draw closer to that mystery—to what is true, to what is beautiful, to what is most meaningful. Only on this day do we proclaim aloud the second line of the Shema: Baruch Shem Kevod Malchuto l’olam va’ed. The rabbis say these words are spoken only by angels. But today—we are pure enough to say them. Today, we declare that the Kavod—the Divine Radiance—infuses all creation, here and now. Our very aliveness itself is an expression of that Divine Radiance, of the Kavod.
The invitation of teshuvah is to work with that aliveness. Not in a far-off mystical way, but in a real, tangible way – that embraces the power of life within us, the power of life that every living being carries.
The architecture of creation is full of powers:
- A plant has the power to turn sunlight into food.
- A flower has the power to lure a bee with its color and scent.
- Fish have the power to breathe underwater.
- And humans? We have the powers of imagination, language, creativity, and choice—powers that give rise to ritual, community, culture and complex expressions of civilization.
Power is a sacred capacity. And like the High Priest of old, we are entrusted to use our power with intention.
On this day, we ask: What are our powers? How have we used them? Where have we misused them—or left them dormant?
Asking these questions is the work of cheshbon hanefesh, the accounting of the soul. Such work is not only about working on ourselves and becoming better people. It is about coming into our fullness. About being alive, vibrant, magnificent and beautiful.
We become better people, when we know who we are, when we are authentic, when we are playful, when we are expansive and experimental and dare to love with all our heart, our soul and everything we’ve got. When we dare to walk through life with holy chutzpah.
Our tradition tells of the Lamed Vavniks—that in every generation, there are lamed vav [ל׳׳ו] 36 hidden righteous ones whose quiet merit sustains the world. They wear no priestly robes. They walk among us, unrecognized—even to themselves. They remind us that holiness is not locked in a chamber; it is carried in ordinary human lives of compassion, humility, justice and the holy chutzpah to be loving, generous and helpful as a way of being, with everyone, not reserved for our families, besties or curated social circles. The Lamed Vavnik is fueled by love, radiates love and expresses love.
We need to fill the world with more than 36 such individuals, don’t you think?
Maybe hidden in the lamed vav is an even deeper message. Maybe lamed – which contains the Hebrew root letters for “learn” and vav, which functions as a grammatical conjunction and connector, which means “and” – just maybe the combination of these two letters holds the message that we have to LEARN TO CONNECT. All of us, not just 36 people.
And if we do that, if we really learn to connect, we can sustain the world. We need the holy chutzpah to believe it is possible to live such a life. To love in the face of our fears, to love in the face of our grief and pain.
This is a year to focus on love – to radiate it with every step and every breath. To be unashamed in expressing it.
Let love be the measure of our power. The world is calling for it, aching for it. We see abuses of power large and small—in our own country, in Israel, in Gaza, and in so many parts of the world. We are fatigued by endless conflict, horrified by unspeakable suffering, overwhelmed by continual waves of information and misinformation. And many of us feel powerless, even in our protesting, petitioning, and activism.
And yet, Yom Kippur asks us to tap into the powers we do have. To go inward—not out there, on the world stage, but here—[hand on heart]—in the holy of holies of our own lives. To have the holy chutzpah to love our neighbors, warts and all. To have the holy chutzpah to be authentic and love ourselves, warts and all.
The task is not to have it all figured out. It is simply to begin: to step into the power entrusted to us, to align our soul with love, to let gratitude and compassion ripple outward. This is teshuvah. This is tikkun hanefesh—the repair of the soul—which makes tikkun olam—repair of the world—possible.
We are commanded to love. This is the essence of Torah, as Hillel taught: v’ahavta l’rei’acha kamocha, “and you shall love your neighbors as you love yourself.” The rest is commentary. Go and learn it.
Lamed vav – learn to connect.
To love is the biggest mitzvah of all – the spiritual, ethical and moral imperative of our time. To root every choice in love, in compassion, in justice. Everything flows from there. It is the very heart of Torah. It is the measure of our power, that pulses through each and every one of us.
So, I say to you today: Step into the Holy of Holies of your own being. Claim the aliveness that flows through you. Let it be shaped by love—love multiplied, love abundant. The world is waiting. The world is depending on you. And maybe—just maybe—you are the one whose hidden holiness will help sustain us.
G’mar chatimah tovah.
