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Sometimes I begin with a joke.
Sometimes I tell an old joke.
Worse - sometimes I tell a bad old joke.
This evening, I begin by talking about a bad old joke - that fell flat.
How unfunny is that!
The bad old joke was a practical joke played by society belle Lillie Langtry a hundred and twenty years ago.
Lillie was England's first super-model. Her company was sought by the nobility, the educated and elite. She was a friend of Winston Churchill and Oscar Wilde. Her beauty was captured on portraits that the greatest artists of the day queued to paint. In the late 1870s penny-postcards of her sold as quickly as they were printed. Lillie Langtry was the mistress of the Prince of Wales, Albert Edward, later Edward VII.
Lilly was beautiful, intelligent, witty and a prankster. The Prince of Wale adored her.
It was a relationship far more public than that of his great-great grandson. Lillie was presented to his mother, Queen Victoria. He bought her and her husband a house. He bought her clothes. He provided her with a carriage. He brought her to a party - and in 1882, just a little tipsy from champagne, and in full view of everyone, she dropped ice down his back.
And it was over.
He was not amused. Lilly Langtry was cast from favour. And destitute. She was no longer welcome.
Dependent for years on royal patronage, used to the fine life and the limelight, Lillie Langtry was penniless. Scandal and bankruptcy supplanted success. Once, a woman of leisure who posed for pleasure, she had to work for a living.
Once, professional beauty & superstar, she moved into acting, then vaudeville, then as a model in soap advertisements.
In each, surprisingly, she became richer and richer. Increasingly successful. She married into money. She was a welcome guest at Edward's Coronation in 1901. Royal favour was restored. She won £50,000, breaking the bank at the Monaco Casino.
Lillie Langtry lived a charmed existence... The wheel of fortune had settled in her favour once more.
If you step out of shul and down to Albert Park - opened in the year of the ice-cube escapade... If you visit the art gallery; there you can see an exhibition - Love and Death; Art in the Age of Queen Victoria. Just a few minutes from here, hangs the Wheel of Fortune, itself. It is a painting by Edward Burne-Jones.
A King, a poet and a slave are chained to the wheel of fortune. They look so similar - but for their designated roles, they are so interchangeable. There is no reason why the wheel should settle here and not there; why one should be higher or one lower. Thus spins the wheel of fortune.
And with a nonchalant hand resting upon the wheel, determining fate - Destiny - Lady Fortune herself - is modelled by Lillie Langtry. It is Lillie who determines who rises and who falls.
Such cruel irony - when she posed for the painting she was at the summit of royal favour. By the time the piece was exhibited - Lillie was at the nadir of her misfortune.
Mi yishalev u'mi yityaser; mi ye-ani u'mi ye-asher, mi yeshafel u'mi yarum
Who will enjoy tranquillity and who will suffer?
Who will become poor and who enriched?
Who will be brought down - and who lifted up?
Be-Rosh Hashana yikatevun u'veyom tzom kippur yechatemun...
On Rosh Hashana it is written and on Yom Kippur it is decreed - mi yeshafel u'mi yarum...
Elevation, descent and the element of luck are a focal theme in the Yom Kippur service.
Tomorrow's Mussaf tells the story of two goats - identical in every respect - in size and colour, build and bleat - indistinguishable. The High Priest has both brought before him on Yom Kippur morning. And a lottery box. The high Priest plunges each of his hands into the box and draws a lot in each. One is marked "For G-d" and the other, "For Azazel".
The goat standing by the hand which draws the lot "For G-d" is slaughtered and raised as a sacrifice on the Holy Altar.
The other goat is the scapegoat. Its destiny is to be taken from the Temple, 10 miles into the wilderness - there it cast down from a rocky precipice.
One goat's destiny is to rise in smoke in the holy Temple. Physical matter transformed into smoke. Its associate, no more nor less worthy, perishes in a brutal, physical manner - at an unmarked drop from an unmarked spot in the middle of nowhere.
Our prayers go up, our spiritual side climbs up. Our sins pull downwards. Down...
Which has control? Which is my goat? Which is your goat? mi yeshafel u'mi yarum...? What is our lot for the year ahead?
It is a lottery, too, that identifies the sleeping Jonah as the cause of the storm on board his ship. Tomorrow at Mincha, we read how Jonah sought to flee G-d's mission - to call on the city of Nineveh to repent. As you will recall, Jonah boards a ship and sails away. Only to find that G-d targets his vessel with a ferocious storm - leaving settled, the waters beyond. Jonah is determined to thwart G-d's plan even at the loss of his life and retires to his bed to sleep.
On deck, the sailors see the unique targeting of the storm. Cleary one of them has upset their god - but whom? Lots are cast - and Jonah is identified.
You will have to come tomorrow to see how the story is resolved.
For the scapegoat, the lots of the high priest choose between two equal candidates and determine their fates. In Jonah, the lots of the pagan sailors select the right target - who has brought misfortune upon them?
Jew and non-Jew - man and beast... Fate, chance and destiny seem inextricably intertwined.
Do we count for anything or do we just spin on the wheel of fortune?
In just a few moments in the repetition of the Amida we shall chant the famous piyut which compares us to the clay in the hand of the potter, the stone in the hands of the mason and the silver in the hands of the smith. Moulded, shaped, shattered, cast at will.
Ken anachnu beyadecha - thus are we in Your hands.
We are but matter, moulded at G-d's whim. It is a poem that diminishes us in the Universe as we seek to belittle our misdemeanours. We are insignificant in the grand scheme of things. And if we are - complain to the manufacturer.
Ken anachnu beyadecha - thus are we in Your hands. Reactive, responsive to our destiny.
This is the image - Passive as the poet, the king and the slave on Burne-Jones' Wheel of Fortune.
But if this is the image, it is wrong!
When G-d called on Jonah - He called on Jonah! G-d has a loud enough voice - He could have spoken to the people of Nineveh directly. He could have found a local prophet in the Nineveh Herald. Had G-d simply wanted the people to repent there were any number of ways He could have got the message through.
So, if Jonah was reluctant. Forget him. Choose someone else.
But G-d returns to Jonah and doesn't let him go.
Be a player, says G-d. Don't opt out.
Do not let things just follow on their course.
Do not let the people of Nineveh perish.
Do not just leave it in My hands.
Do not abdicate your responsibility.
You are not a lump of clay.
It could not be clearer than on Yom Kippur.
Immediately after mi yeshafel u'mi yarum Who will be brought down - and who lifted up?
We proclaim in G-d's name "U-Tshuva u-Tefila u-Tzeddaka ma-avirin et ro'a hagezera" - Penitence, prayer & Tzedakka remove the severe decree.
True, there is a decree! There is a fate and a destiny. Some is in this world and some is in the next... We can't double guess it, may not understand it - but it is there.
True, there is a decree! But it is not like the painting.
We are not shackled to who we are. We are not shackled to the wheel of fortune.
We are not turned and turned; are not passive nor impotent. Much as we may see ourselves as being a certain type of person...
Filling a certain niche in our family or the community...
Someone who eats kosher at home...
Someone who comes to shul once a month...
Once a year...
The kind of person who builds a Sukkah but doesn't get a Lulav...
The kind of person who gives - but doesn't do...
The kind of person who is a spectator in the Jewish world - but not a participant...
... None of this is immutable
... Nor is our fate, nor our destiny
On Yom Kippur we are reminded that we are given the opportunity to make our fate - that we are responsible, moreover, for others in the world around us.
Tshuva, Tefila & Tzeddaka - penitence, prayer & charity are the mechanisms of change. They change the decree. They lift us from the wheel.
As I explained over Rosh Hashana, Tshuva makes us a partner in the ongoing creation. It is an empowering of the inner spirit.
Tefila, or prayer, is a call on G-d. It is a bonding. Whether we are trapped and want to cry out - or we want to say thank you. Tefila is a focus of spirit, which channels Godliness into this world. It is a mechanism of change.
And finally, there is Tzeddaka - meaning both righteousness and charity.
Tzeddaka has a unique place in the Jewish Wheel of Fortune. G-d himself singles it out as a virtue. Back in Bereshit, G-d sings Abraham's praises and says "I have loved him, because he commands his children and his household to keep the way of Hashem - la-asot Tzeddaka u-mishpat - doing charity & justice."
G-d, himself, establishes Tzeddaka as the very basis of Abraham's covenant and the establishment of Judaism. Tzeddaka is keeping the way of Hashem. Bringing life into the world, sustaining life in the world, supporting life in the world - maintaining family and community - these are what G-d is about. And when we do them - we are being Godly.
Says the Maharal of Prague - when we give Tzeddaka, we force G-d into the world.
A moment ago, we were spinning on the wheel. A moment ago, we were clay in His hands. Says the Maharal of Prague - it needn't be like that. Says the Maharal of Prague - you can spin the wheel. You can mould the future. Being godly is literally in your hands.
A pig and a chicken were walking past a church, when they saw a sign advertising a charity gala. "We must contribute", said the chicken. "Look at all the worthy causes! Really, we should do our bit!"
"A fine idea," snorted the pig - "but what do you suggest."
"An egg and bacon breakfast as a prize for the lottery", chirped the chicken.
The pig squealed and ran.
"Whatever is wrong?" the chicken asked.
For you, that's a donation. For me it's a lifetime commitment!
The Wheel of Fortune spins all year round. This evening's pitch and plea carries with it the gravitas and solemnity of Yom Kippur. It is a good moment to give.
But all year round this community has been sustained by the Tzeddaka, the donations and commitment of some very special people.
It's not about the money.
Sometimes it isn't even money. But it's time or it's energy, or it's effort.
Our community is given its life by the volunteers who make things happen. People who sponsor, make and set up the kiddush, the people who stay behind and wash up; the people who lend a hand in the kitchen, shop or the office; who give up an afternoon to help with this or fix that - who step in to teach or step in to leyn. There are those that give time to the shul, there's the KPFA who give time and raise money for the school.
The Security group - standing watchful outside the shul right now - here and in Manakau Rd - training, monitoring, liasing with the police and others...
The Chevra Kaddisha - who work tirelessly in welfare as well as the time they give up to perform the Taharas, to wash and watch the bodies, attend the funerals and make up Minyanim. Those who help in hospitality and immigration; those who make orthodox Jewish life in Auckland possible by helping with the chicken kill - all meaningful commitments of time and effort.
Those who serve on Boards and trusts - the most thankless of voluntary services - you aren't paid, aren't even paid compliments - everyone knows more and knows better.
Time is perhaps the most precious commodity. This community is much indebted to those all of those who give their time.
This year has seen the passing of some special people whose generosity of spirit has been a genuine inspiration - not only to me. What a wonderful legacy to have a life of good deeds and then have others confide "I want to do this or that - to carry on the work that so & so was doing..."
Such people give life in their lifetimes and inspire life beyond their lifetimes...
We salute them and pray for the elevation of their souls...
There are many individuals in this community, whose gifts, large and small have enabled others to survive the unexpected. I should like to thank everyone who has supported the Gemach fund. It makes a difference. The multiples of Chai or 26 given on the Bimah make a difference.
A number of phenomenal pledges have been made towards the building of our new site - but to get there, were several smaller donations of seed money to cover the initial costs. Those who gave were all taking a risk that the project would not be viable. These tipped the balance and made relocation real.
Many of our ongoing projects are supported by generous and anonymous benefactors. They have supported the educational work of the community, the professionalisation of Kashrut and the fight to retain Shechita.
From day to day, this community depends on your Tzeddaka.
And we thank you.
Like the potter's clay - ken anachnu beyadecha - this community is literally in your hands.
The work we do, the services we provide, the materials we produce exceed what we raise in subscriptions. And as a community with a heart, we try to make good our pledge that no-one should be deterred from joining because the fee is too high.
We would like to carry on and extend that work. We would like to offer more services, better services; reach out to more people.
On Yom Kippur we each face G-d and judgment. It is a time of destiny and decree. It is a time to face up to our Mitzvot - our responsibilities in G-d's world and in our Jewish community.
On Yom Kippur we can hide below decks like Jonah - and acquiesce to the lottery above. Or through our penitence our prayer and our Tzeddaka, we can take command and spin the wheel of fortune.
You don't need to be a complete Tzaddik - but each of us has the capacity to be a Baal Tzedakkaa.
The answer is in your hands.
I wish you all a shana tova