September 29, 2010: I (We) Dropped the Torah

Dear Chevre (Friends):

You gotta laugh…or cry! Just as soon as the Tekiah Gedolah stopped sounding at the end of Neilah, signaling our attainment of complete atonement at last… and what happened?? I dropped the Torah. Never mind that only a few people saw it. Never mind that it didn’t fall on the ground, but slipped on its side in the ark. Never mind that it was an accident. (Of course, it was an accident! Who would drop the Torah on purpose?) Although the Talmud itself does not mention the case, most post-Talmudic rulings impose a fast as penance. What: am I supposed to fast again, on the heels of Yom Kippur?

Why did I drop it? I was tired. I was hungry. I was careless. I was hurrying to make way for Havdalah. There are no grooves for the Torahs within the ark, so they slip easily. To take my own cheshbon ha-nefesh for a second, my own moral inventory, the event is consistent with my general obliviousness of things entrusted to me. Those close to me are often faulting me for it: “you don’t pay attention!” To compound it, after the Torah fell, I was obsessed with the damaged rimonim, the silver ornaments, rather than with the act itself. “That,” said one person pointedly to me, “is idolatry” —and he was right on the mark. It is always idolatrous when I prioritize material concerns.

And, then, there is the social element of responsibility. It is axiomatic that the community is always involved in any public sin performed by one of its members—let alone by the Rabbi! For this reason, we recite the al cheit, the public confessional, in the plural. For this reason, too, the most stringent authorities require a 40-day fast, not just for the individual who dropped the Torah, but for everyone in the congregation. So I ask: as a community, to what degree do we show reverence for Torah and tradition? To what degree to do we inculcate reverence for Torah and tradition in our children?

The rationale for the form of penance is the general principle of middah ke-neged middah, “measure for measure.” Just as Moses ascended Mount Sinai without food or drink for a duration of forty days in order to receive the Law, while the Children of Israel waited below, so, too, the community should fast for forty days. Here’s what I propose for incorporating middah ke-neged middah into my personal, and our communal, atonement:
(1) I pay any costs for repair of the rimonim;
(2) we instruct our building manager to drill slots for holding the Torahs in place within the ark;
(3) we elevate the Torah physically, by dancing with it on Simchat Torah (this Thursday night, September 30, at 6 PM), in direct response to having dropped it last week;
(4) we elevate the Torah spiritually with a leil tikkun, a special Torah study session on the eve of Shavuot (Tuesday, June 7, 2011), for the first time ever at JCOGS.

It is instructive that I, and, therefore, we, sinned within seconds of the close of Yom Kippur. Sinning is perpetual. Fortunately, so is the opportunity for atonement.

Rabbi Brian
rabbi.brian.besser@gmail.com