There's Still Time to Change the Road You're On

Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, comes late this year: it usually comes in September, but this year, it's in October-- it begins at sundown on October 2. Unlike the secular New Year with its emphasis on parties and ringing in the year, Jewish New Year is a lot more reflective, and it's the beginning of the Ten Days of Repentance, which ends with Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. 

I've mentioned the Ten Days of Repentance before-- they're an opportunity to apologize to those you've wronged, a chance to re-establish communication with those you may have stopped talking to. It's also a time to look at yourself and evaluate where you fell short, and to atone for what you did wrong. In other words, it's a time to take responsibility for your faults, rather than blaming others or making excuses.

That sounds lovely in theory. But in practice, many of us (and that includes me, to be honest) have a difficult time with the part about admitting we were wrong and being willing to do things differently. It's so much easier to say the breakdown in communication or the argument or the disagreement was all the other person's fault. It's so much easier to avoid thinking about the times we were judgmental or the times we spoke harshly, rather than sincerely trying to do better. We're supposed to admit our mistakes, atone for them, and strive to correct them; but I don't know too many people who enjoy doing that.

And yet, here we are. At this time of year, we are encouraged to do charitable work, and we're encouraged to pray; but above all, we're encouraged to repent. That means to sincerely apologize for what we did wrong and promise to do better. And yes, there's a religious component: we humble ourselves, we fast on Yom Kippur, and we ask God to forgive us. But first, during the Ten Days of Repentance, we are told to make peace between ourselves and those we have wronged, wherever possible. 

I can think of several folks I need to apologize to. And whether they accept my apology or not (and I hope they will), I'm still supposed to make the effort. Meanwhile, I've been thinking a lot about how I can be a more patient person in the New Year-- being impatient is my biggest fault, and I know it. I'd like to believe it's still possible for me to change; I really want to be a more kind and understanding person than I have been.

And if you are one of the people that I have somehow wronged this past year, I do hope you will be able to forgive me. And if you are observing the New Year too, I wish you a year that is both happy and healthy. If it's not your holiday, I appreciate your reading my thoughts about it. One of the nice things about the blogosphere is you can learn about other people's beliefs, directly from them. So, I hope you've found my thoughts about the Jewish New Year informative. Even though it's about self-reflection and repentance, it's one of my favorite holidays, because it teaches us that we can choose to do better, and it all starts by being willing to atone.

Strangers in a Strange Land

I don't talk much about either of my grandfathers; they both died many years ago. But they were part of a very familiar story. My maternal grandfather's name was Samuel; he was a tailor, and he came here from Lithuania in 1910. My paternal grandfather's name was Jacob; he was a carpenter, and he came here from Russia in 1907. They were part of a massive surge of Eastern European immigrants that arrived here in the period from the 1890s through the 1910s. Most of these immigrants were poor, few spoke any English, and they all came in search of a life that was better and safer than what they had in the "old country." 

Not everyone was thrilled to see them. It didn't take long before the newspapers and magazines were filled with complaints from the good, upstanding citizens about how these newcomers were dirty, spread diseases, and had strange customs that the average American couldn't understand. There was pressure on politicians to stop allowing all these people into the country, and by the 1920s, immigration laws did become much more restrictive. But when my grandfathers arrived, there were still large numbers who continued to make the journey to what they hoped would be a "golden land." 

Based on what I've been told by my relatives, neither of my grandfathers found America to be easy; learning English was a struggle, as was supporting their families during periods of crisis like the Great Depression. They each met some people who were kind to them, but they also met unscrupulous landlords who charged outrageous rents for substandard apartments; and bosses who cheated their immigrant workers out of overtime pay. And along the way, they met plenty of people who didn't like immigrants, including some who didn't like Jews. Still, my grandfathers persevered. They believed they were better off in America, and they were determined to make a life in their newly adopted country. Although they were both hardworking guys, they never got rich; however, I get the impression that wasn't their priority. Mostly, they wanted their kids to have more opportunities than they would have had growing up in a ghetto in Eastern Europe. 

On a few occasions, my commute has taken me through the neighborhoods where each of my grandfathers once lived. Today, these neighborhoods have different immigrant populations, but it's newcomers to America who still make up much of the population-- immigrants from Vietnam, Haiti, Brazil, Guatemala, all seeking a better life just like Grandpa Samuel and Grandpa Jacob did so many years ago. And just like back then, some people treat the new immigrants with kindness and try to help them, while others exploit them or discriminate against them or mock them.

And every time I hear a craven politician stirring up the public by claiming it's the immigrants who are the main cause of crime, it just makes me sad: that wasn't true 100 years ago, and it's not true today. Unfortunately, scaring people and turning them against "the other," while a cynical strategy, has often proved to be a great way to get votes. And yet, you'd think we would have learned something since those massive waves of immigrants arrived over a century ago from Russia, and Poland, and Lithuania, and Italy, and Germany, and Hungary. Today's immigrants may be of different races from the ones who came here in 1910, and they may speak different languages. But their dreams and their hopes are very similar to what brought my grandfathers to America. It's a shame that more people can't see that the vast majority of immigrants just want to live a peaceful life and make a positive contribution. And wouldn't it be nice if more of us would welcome the stranger, the way both the Hebrew Bible and New Testament command us to do...