A Rabbi arrived at a Synagogue to give a speech.   He sat and waited silently.

The audience sat patiently waiting for the Rabbi to begin.They wait but the Rabbi continues to sit quietly.

Fed up waiting a few men approach the Rabbi.   " Rabbi why are you waiting ??   Please start your speech."

The Rabbi points to his mouth and whispers to them,  " I left my false teeth at home."

The men run to the Rabbi's house and return with the false teeth.

The Rabbi starts speaking.

The Rabbi talks and talks it is getting late, the audience want him to finish.

They want to go home but the Rabbi keeps on talking.

Some one approached the Rabbi and asked politely  "Rabbi why do you talk so much ??"

The Rabbi answered:   "You brought me my wife's false teeth."

The 14th century Spanish sage and scholar Rabbi David Avudraham, says that the sound of the Shofar, which we will be hearing shortly , transports us back to the moment, 3,319 years ago, when we stood together at Mt. Sinai, and heard its blasting sound reverberating through the consciousness of the Jewish people and of the entire world.

"It came to pass on the third day when it was morning," the Torah describes, "that there were thunder claps and lightning flashes, and a thick cloud was upon the mountain, and a very powerful blast of a shofar. The entire nation that was in the camp shuddered .. ,

"The entire Mount Sinai smoked because G-d had descended upon it in fire, and its smoke ascended like the smoke of the kiln, and the entire mountain quaked violently. The sound of the shofar grew increasingly stronger (1)."

So each year on Rosh Hashanah, we commemorate that moment by reenacting a shofar blast in Jewish communities the world over.

***

Yet there is something intriguing about that moment at Sinai when the shofar blast was heard,

As the Bible records, G-d told Moses (1): "And you shall set boundaries for the people around, saying, Beware of ascending the mountain or touching its edge; whoever touches the mountain shall die. No hand shall touch it. .. whether man or beast ... When the ram's horn sounds a long, drawn out blast, they may ascend the mountain."

The message is clear: G-d does not want the Jewish people to step foot, or even lay a finger, on the mountain.

G-d warns of this again and again. In fact, this warning occupies the central drama in the biblical verses preceding the Ten Commandments. Why all of these warnings, again and again? Why was it so critically important that no human being or beast touch the mountain? Who cares if a few Jews stepped foot on the mountain?

The repetition and elaboration of this instruction seems to indicate that it was essential to the entire Sinai experience. How so?

***

In essence, this commandment - that no human be present on Mt. Sinai when the Torah is given - captures the unique power of Judaism and the true significance of our Torah, It also tells us something of the meaning behind the sounding of the shofar on this day.

***

One of the most tragic moments in the Bible occurs on the day when the new Tabernacle is erected. The mishkan, the tabernacle the Jews created in the desert to house the Divine presence, was built. Aaron was designated as the High Priest; his four sons as the Kohanim, the priests to serve in the Temple.

And then, suddenly, tragedy struck. Aaron's two sons, Nadav and Avihu, died. The Torah is very vague about the reason for their death.

"They offered before G-d a foreign fire, which He had not commanded them," Is the way the Torah explains the reason for their death (2).

What does this mean? What is this "foreign fire" they offered? How can a fire be foreign?

The rabbis in the Talmud and the Midrash present another three reasons for their premature death (3).

1. They went in to the Temple while they were drunk. This intoxication proved fatal to them.

2. The cause of their death was that they refused to marry and have children.

3. "It once happened that Moses and Aaron were walking along the road and Nadav and Avihu (Aaron's two sons) were walking behind them, and all Israel was walking behind them. Said Nadav to Avihu, 'When will these two old men die and you and I will lead the generation?' Thereupon G-d said to them: 'We shall see who will bury whom!'"

This is a deeply troubling episode.

Nadav and Avihu are described in the Torah as two very holy human beings, chosen to serve as the Kohanim, the priests in the Holy Temple. After their death, Moses even tells Aaron that they were more saintly than he and Aaron (4)! How can we make sense of the fact that these two great individuals are craving the demise of their father and uncle (Aaron and Moses) so that they can acquire their power?!

It would be shocking if even ordinary people would harbor such sentiments. And yet here, two of the holiest men of Israel are praying for the death of - whom? Of Moses and Aaron'

Something else is also disturbing to us. The Torah tells us the reason for their death. ''They offered before G-d a foreign fire, which He had not commanded them." Why, then, are the rabbis giving us three new reasons for their death: that they had too much to drink; that they refused to marry and have children and that they were yearning for the death of their father and uncle?

And one more question: What was so wrong about some of these actions that they deserved to die? Granted, we want handsome Jewish men to marry nice Jewish girls. But just because they wanted to remain bachelors, do they deserve to die? Or just because they got drunk - must they perish? Just because they offered a "foreign fire" (whatever that means), must they lose their life?

***

This episode, in truth, is symbolic and it encapsulates one of the great truths about Jewish history.

Isaac Bashevis Singer tells the story of a man who traveled to the famous city of Vilna and then came back and said to his friend, "the Jews of Vilna are remarkable people.

"1 saw a Jew who studies all day long. 1 saw a Jew who spent all day scheming how to get rich. 1 saw a Jew waving the red flag calling for a revolution. 1 saw a Jew who was loyal to his country. I saw a Jew running after his desires all day, and I saw a Jew who was self-denying and avoided temptation. I encountered a Jew who was a socialist, a Jew who was a capitalist, a Jew who was a Zionist and a Jew who was an anti-Zionist. I met a Jew who embraced Enlightenment and a Jew who shunned it. "

The other man said, "I don't know why you're so astonished. Vilna is a big city, and there are tens of thousands of Jews, all types."

"No, " said the first man, "it was all the same Jew."

Throughout our history, we Jews have become "drunk" on various new ideologies, movements, political systems and ideas that sprung up throughout our long and difficult journey.

We became "drunk" on these new movements and social ideas, believing that finally, finally, with them our condition would be normalized; that the Jew will at last be accepted as a full and equal member of society, and that the planet earth would at last become a peaceful and loving oasis.

In the process we have offered "foreign fires." We invested our passion, our "fire," our genius, our creativity on these "ultras" often alien to Judaism. Our passion found new and exciting outlets and we bid farewell to the ancient religion of our ancestors. The teachings of Moses and Aaron seemed Quite irrelevant to a 19th and 20th century Jew. The spiritual glow of Shabbat could not stand the test of the new culture. What relevance could donning black boxes on your arm - Tefillin - have In an era inspired by Rousseau, Kant, Nietzsche and Kierkegaard? What relevance could the ancient text of the Talmud dealing with bulls goring cows in an alleyway of Iraq (Babylonia) in the third century have in an era of unbridled self expression?

Yes, we got drunk. Can you blame us? After 1500 years of savage suffering and miserable conditions we were vulnerable to the powerful ideologies that seemed so promising at the time. We became passionate and zealous fighters for so many of these new trends and movements.

And we've built fires, we became carries of revolution; passionate advocates and leaders of new systems.

It is fascinating: Four revolutions have defined our era. The socialist revolution by Karl Marx; the revolution in science and physics by Albert Einstein; the revolution in psychoanalysis by Sigmund Freud and the revolution in biology by Charles Darwin.

Three of them were Jewish, and now they’re saying Darwin was wrong ...

We have become carries of revolutions. We offered our Jewish passions and genius on foreign altars; we became involved in "foreign fires."

And we re-enacted in our own lives that Talmudic episode about Aaron's two sons:

"It once happened that Moses and Aaron were walking along the road and Nadav and Avihu (Aaron's two sons) were walking behind them, and all Israel was walking behind them. Said Nadav to Avihu, 'When will these two old men die and you and I will lead the generation?'"

This was a sentiment re-experienced by millions of Jews to this very day.

"When will these two old men die and you and I will lead the generation?" The milieu of Moses' religion and Aaron's service must come to an end, so that Judaism can be carried by people who are more in sync with the times. The era of Moses and Aaron was good for its time, but if the Jewish people are to have a future, if we are to bring Judaism forward into the new era, if we are to inspire our youth, we need new leaders, new spokesmen, the champions of new ideas.

"When will these two old men die and you and I will lead the generation?" When will we finally be able to bid farewell to our ancient Torah and its Mitzvos and embrace modernity and its luster?

***

Yet, notwithstanding its apparent appeal and beauty, there is one problem with this vision.

Nadav and Avihu had no children.

They had no future

So we must say here the truth: The attempts to create a culture of Judaism divorced from Torah, from Mitzvos, may be effective for a few generations, but in the end, it does not have the power inspire our children and grandchildren.

How do we know when we are an embracing an idea soberly, or we've perhaps gotten drunk on it?

It is not easy, but Judaism gives us the way: Look at the children. When we embrace an ideology because we have become intoxicated by its fragrance or tastiness, it may last for some generations, but it ultimately fails to inspire the kinderlach, the youth.

A great rabbi once said: An orphaned child is a child without parents. An orphaned nation is a nation without children. A movement cannot survive without children.

When we see children, we know we are in a good place.

***

A student once prepared a thesis. The professor wrote on the manuscript that it is both good and original, but then proceeded to fail the student. When the student wondered why he failed, the teacher replied: "The manuscript is both good and original, but the part that is good is not original, and the part that is original is not good."

You see, every Idea, every movement, every philosophy, every system that emerged in the history of human civilization was a product of the human mind, or of several human minds. It was an outgrowth of human inquiry, human research, human reflection, and, most importantly, human experience.

All of these ideas had one thing in common: Conceived and developed by humans, and addressing real human needs, they were extremely relevant in their times. They spoke to the heart and soul of countless people; they appealed to their minds and to their aspirations.

Yet - and here is the crux of the issue - for the very same reason, as the decades passed, the force of many of these ideas began to wane. Some of them are completely dead. It is not hard to understand why. As the world changes, culture changes, people change, circumstances change. What was deemed relevant and urgent two centuries ago, what spoke to us one century ago, loses its power in the face of new realities.

The principle is simple. Humans who conceive ideas speak in a particular milieu, from a particular mindset, with a particular paradigm, in a particular location. We cannot blame them for lacking the perspective of what the future might bring. All they have at their disposal is their mind, their heart, their experiences and stories of the past.

***

Let us contrast this with Judaism.

What is so "interesting" about Judaism is that it was never really relevant.

Sure, over the millennia the sages have presented beautiful and appealing reasons for so many of the mitzvot. But, let's face it, after everything is said and done, Judaism remains a little weird.

I am an observant Jew, so I often take it for granted. But when I am on an airplane, and I put on my Tefillin, I start seeing the looks. It then comes back to me: It does look strange to an outsider. What's this? The Jewish way of taking your blood pressure?

And mikvah? Are there no showers in our homes?

Or kosher? Does it really make difference weather you consume the fake crab sushi or the real deal? Is fatty, greasy Kugel really holier than shrimp?

And how about Shabbat? With all the beauty and poetry of Shabbat, is it normal, not to use a cell phone for 24 hours?

And how about the ram's horn we will soon be blowing? Sure, we've got 10 reasons for that one. But you know and I know that it is a strange instrument to sound on a holiday. I've never seen an advertisement for a shofar concert in the Albert Hall. Have you?

Nor have I ever been to a restaurant that serves matzo. Or Palwin Number 9.  On Pesach, sure, we all love matzo. Were you ever at a Seder with Jews? This matzo is delicious! They all exclaim. This matzo - so crunchy, a delight to eat. Sure, let me see your response if on your anniversary your wife serves you a candlelit matzo dinner. If it is so delicious, why not offer matzo at weddings and bar mitszvhas?

And the tallis and tzitzit? Somebody once said to me ‘tuck your tzitzis in you look more normal’ – as if that is the only weird thing we do!

You see, my dear friends, there is something about Judaism that does not "fully click" in the mindset of modern woman and man. Indeed, there was never a point in history where one could look at the Torah and its mitzvos, and declare: This really clicks; this is the greatest system for the present age.

It is here that we can discover the secret of Judaism:

Judaism could never go out of fashion, because it was never in fashion to begin with.

For Judaism to fully "click" means it is an outgrowth of the human mind; it is the child of human reflection and can therefore be fully integrated by our modern sensibilities. By definition, its relevance will change in the future. As times change and our sensibilities change, it will lose its power. It will join countless other ideas and become a relic of the past.

The true power of Judaism lay in the fact that it is not a system conceived by man, but rather one given by our Creator.

For that reason, there was never a point in history where human could feel - Ah! This is me! This really sits well with my conception of life; this really suits my fancy, my dreams, my aspirations. Something in Yiddishkeit always remains a bit amiss.

But precisely for this reason, its relevance is eternal.

Is something was never in fashion to begin with it can't go out of fashion. Only something created by a human being could be in fashion. Something given by G-d could never be in fashion; it is always a little "off," a little "strange."

But this "off-ness" is what guarantees its eternity.

If Judaism ever becomes "in," then you can be assured of one thing: It will soon be "out." Things that were 50 "in" merely 20 years ago are completely "out" today.

Shabbos, Tefillin, mikvah, mezuzah, Torah, kashrut, Shabbos candles, Tzedaka, prayer, - were here three millennia ago; they are still here today. They will be here in 3,000 years from now.

If Moses and Aaron walk in today to downtown Cardiff, they will recognize almost nothing. If they enter our shul today, they will be familiar with so much: the same shofar, the same mezuzah, the same Tefillin, the same tallit, the same Torah scroll; 3,319 years, and the same Torah that Moses taught his children, we are teaching our children.

***

So you see why G-d was so determined that no human being stand on the Mt. Sinai while He was giving the Torah?

This was not merely a commandment that the Jews put up barricades near Mt. Sinai so nobody could get through. It was, more importantly, a symbolic idea conveying the critical message that what was going to occur at Mt. Sinai was not an outgrowth of human skill, imagination and insight. "No human being should be present on the mountain" represents the idea that the Torah given from that mountain does not originate in the human mind or in human experience, hence its majestic power and spiritual relevance will never cease. It is not man expressing his creative ideas, but is G-d sharing with us His vision, His mitzvos, His passion, His creativity. It has always been - and it remains -- our challenge and our calling to internalize these ideas within our mind and our heart and make them our own; to attempt to appreciate the limitless divine depth of Torah and Mitzvos.

When I put on Tefillin in the morning, I know that these very same Tefillin were donned by Jews in Eretz Israel in 1200 BCE; by Jews in Babylonia in 500 BCE; by Jews in Iran in 100 CE; by Jews in Spain in 1000; by Jews in Poland and Austria in 1600; by my great-great-grandparents in Lithuania in 1850; by Jews in Auschwitz in 1943; and by millions of Jews from Sydney to Los Angeles In 2007.

And when I give them to my children, I am giving them a piece of eternity.

The property we will bequeath to our children, the businesses and the companies, the homes and the cars, are all beautiful and meaningful, but not eternal. When we give our children Yiddishkeit, we are granting them eternity.

This, my dear friends, is also symbolized by the sound of the shofar. Its sound is strange. It is not fashionable, but it represents that which will never become unfashionable. It is the sound of divine truth; it is the power of Sinai.

I doubt that in a century from now, anything will look the way things are today. But I can assure you that the shofar, the same exact shofar, will still be here.

***

I will end with one of my favourite stories which some of you will have heard.

Back in the mid nineties a Jewish advertising executive in New York came up with an idea.

What if the New York Times - considered the world's most prestigious newspaper - listed the weekly Shabbat candle lighting time each week. Sure someone would have to pay for the space. But imagine the Jewish awareness and pride that might result from such a prominent mention of the Jewish Shabbat each week.

He got in touch with a Jewish philanthropist and sold him on the idea. It cost almost two thousand dollars a week.

But he did it.

And for the next five years, each Friday, Jews around the world would see 'Jewish Women: Shabbat candle lighting time this Friday is xxx.

Eventually the philanthropist had to cut back on a number of his projects.

And in June 1999, the little Shabbat notice and stopped appearing in the Friday Times and from that week on it never appeared again.

Except once.

On January 1, 2000, the NY Times ran a Millennium edition. It was a special issue that featured three front pages.

One had the news from January 1, 1900. The second was the actual news of the day, January 1, 2000.

And then they had a third front page. Projecting future events of January 1, 2100.

This fictional page included things like a welcome to the fifty-first state: Cuba. As well as a discussion as to whether robots should be allowed to vote. And so on.

And in addition to the fascinating articles, there was one more thing.

Down on the bottom of the Year 2100 front page, was the candle lighting time in New York for January 1, 2100.

Nobody paid for it. It was just put in by the Times.

The production manager of the New York Times - an Irish Catholic - was asked about it.

His answer was right on the mark.

And it speaks to the eternity of our people.  And to the power of Jewish ritual.

"We don't know what will happen in the year 2100. It is impossible to predict the future.

But of one thing you can be certain That in the year 2100 Jewish women will be lighting Shabbos candles.

As we blow the shofar today, let us resolve sow the seeds of Torah in a world of chaos; to ensure that this will indeed be the case.

Warm wishes etc.

Thank you and Shanah Tovah.

---

ROSH HASHANAH DAY II

Good Yom Tov

What would happen if one of the greatest violinists alive, playing on a Stradivarius worth several million dollars, was plunked into the sterile environment of a subway station at the height of rush hour on a dreary Friday morning? Would anyone stop to listen? Would anyone recognize the genius, the soaring beauty of the playing? Would the greatest of musicians be able to touch these rushing creatures?

Gene Weingarten, a Washington Post staff writer, was determined to find out.

Weingarten approached Joshua Bell, one of the finest classical musicians in the world, generally acclaimed as America's greatest living violinist. Joshua Bell, is 39 year old Jewish violinist, the latest in a long line of Jewish violin-playing aristocracy. His grandfather was a sabra, an Israeli Jew.

Joshua Bell plays regularly before awe-struck crowds across the globe. His instrument is a violin crafted by Antonio Stradivari in 1713, at the end of the Italian master's career. It was owned by Bronislaw Hubermann, who founded the Israel Philharmonic. Joshua Bell purchased the violin at an auction several years ago, for about 3 and a half million dollars. He and his violin are musical mastery at its absolute height.

In any case, the young Jewish violinist acquiesced to the request with surprising ease. The greatest American Violinist agreed to play the violin for free in the subway ... This would be the test of what type of society we live in.

On Jan. 12, 2007, at 7: 51 on a Friday morning, in a Washington D.C. metro station, Joshua Bell, dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a Washington Nationals baseball cap, opened his violin case, threw a few dollars in as seed money, and began to play.

The pieces he performed were not popular, well-known ditties. They were complex/ breathtaking masterpieces that have endured for centuries. Bell put his heart and soul into his music/ eliciting pristine, resonant notes from his instrument. He played six pieces in forty-three minutes. During that time, 1,097 people walked by the master.

As the Washington Post later reported, many of these people were very well to do professionals who worked in or around Washington. They included lawyers, CEO's, managers, investors, consultants, tradesman, bureaucrats, policy analysts, computer programmers, doctors, and so forth.

***

How many people/ do you think, stopped to hear the brilliant music? How many people were moved by the masterful renditions of Joshua Bell?

0.006 percent of the people that passed by stopped to hear his music.

In the three-quarters of an hour that Joshua Bell played, seven people stopped what they were doing to hang around and take in the performance, at least for a minute. Twenty-seven gave money, most of them on the run -- for a total of $32 and change. That leaves the 1,070 people who hurried by, oblivious, many only three feet away, few even turning to look.

Throughout the entire time, there was never a crowd, not even for a second.

Mr. Weingarten wrote up the results of his experiment in a detailed article in the April 8 edition of the Washington Post, two days before Joshua Bell accepted the Avery Fisher Prize, the greatest honor a classical musician in America can receive.

***

I watched the video that was taken secretly that Friday Morning in the metro station. I watched how tens of hundreds of people just rushed by, not even taking a fleeting second to notice the America's greatest violinist. Some of them, I could notice, were compelled to take a fleeting look at him, but immediately turned away, not allowing themselves to "go there." Some people got annoyed by the loud sounds. Some walked over and with a look of pity and annoyance threw in some money ...

I watched the video and I cried. I cried for the deadness of souls that were not moved to stop to appreciate the beauty that surrounded them. I cried for the lost moments, the opportunities that slip through our hands never to return. I cried for the rush of life which sucks up the essence of life itself.

I cried, because I asked myself the question, have we grown so superficial as to not appreciate art without a frame? Beauty without PR? Is there really no truth left if it is not "advertised" as such? Are we only capable of appreciating beauty when we are "told" by the media, by the television networks, that this will be beautiful and is worth paying attention to?

***

But no, this is not the end of the story.

A couple of minutes into the video, something very revealing happens. A woman and her preschooler emerge from the escalator. The woman is walking briskly and, therefore, so is the child. She's got his hand.

The woman is obviously in a rush. But her 3 year old son, this little cute black kid, keeps twisting around to look at Joshua Bell... He is craving to pull over and listen, but his mother would not let... She is in a rush ... She is shlepping him toward the door.

But he will not give up. He is consumed by the music... He keeps on turning his head toward the violinist. So his mother does what she has to do .... She deftly moves her body between her child's and Bell's, cutting off her son's line of sight. As they exit the room, the little 3 year old can stili be seen craning to look ...

And - quite astonishingly -- the same exact scene can be observed again and again throughout the entire 45 minutes of Bell's performance. There was no ethnic or demographic pattern to distinguish the people who stayed to watch Bell, or the ones who gave money, from that vast majority who hurried on past, unheeding. Whites, blacks and Asians, young and old, men and women, were represented in all three groups.

But the behavior of one demographic remained absolutely consistent. Every single time a child walked past, he or she tried to stop and watch. And every single time, a parent scooted the kid away!

And I remembered what the rabbis and mystics have taught: All babies are born with a knowledge of music, poetry, art, soulfulness. Then life slowly starts to choke the music out of us. And when our children wish to stop and hear the music, we are often too busy to let them marvel in life itself. Slowly, we teach our children to become deaf to the music of life ...

Sure, I would like to believe that I would have reacted differently had I been at the L'enfant Plaza station in D.C. on Friday morning, Jan. 12^th, 2007. How could I not have been one of the select few who grasped that this musician, this music, was different?

But, sadly, I think to myself: How many times to I leave the house in a rush to get to the office. To my left, a new tree has just blossomed; to my right, an infant is discovering the world for the first time; further along, a garden boasts lilies in full bloom, their deep purple heads nodding in the soft breeze. Above, fluffy clouds race each other on a blindingly blue sky.

But, in my haste that morning, I see none of it. I am deaf to the music surrounding me on all sides ...

***

This, my dear friends, is the essence of Roah Hashanah, Zeh Hayom Techilas Maasecah, when we celebrate the creation of the world and the creation of the first human beings, Adam and Eve. It is the celebration of creation, of existence, of life itself. It is the beginning of our year, the foundation of the year, the time we make sure that we will not allow the rush of life to consume, erode and destroy life itself.

Why is Rosh Hashanah a Jewish holiday? It should be celebrated as a universal holiday! I understand that Passover and Hannukah are Jewish holidays, commemorating events that transpired with the Jewish people. But Rosh Hashanah does not celebrate Jewish history; it commemorates the creation of the universe and the creation of the first human beings, Adam and Eve, who were not Jewish?

The answer is: It is true. Rosh Hashanah has meaning for every human being alive and indeed for every creature alive. But in the rush of life, we can easily take our existence for granted. We lack the serenity and the perspective to sit back and ask ourselves, where did this all come from? And what is its purpose?

Judaism introduced the notion that it is a sin to take life for granted. "AI kal neshimah unsehamah tehalal Yud Kay," for every breath you take, express gratitude.

This is not an isolated detail in the Jewish tradition. The very name Jew comes from the Hebrew term "Yehudi," or in yiddish, a Yid. What does Yehudi mean? He who gives gratitude. To be a Jew means to never shut yourself off to the pulsating music vibrating through each moment of our life.

The existence of G-d which Judaism introduced to the world means that life is not a pointless accident. Life was created, placed here by design by a purposeful Being. There is authentic meaning, a reason for existence that is objective and real, not invented.

***

"What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare, " the poet W. H Davies wrote.

But we are busy. The pace of life today is astonishingly swift. In some states, if you're caught driving less than 50 miles per hour, you can get arrested for double parking ....

The new prayer for serenity goes like this: Dear G-d, I want patience and I want it now ...

A very successful businessman had a meeting with his new son-in-law. "I love my daughter, and now I welcome you into the family," said the man, "To show you how much we care for you, I’m making you a 50-50 partner in my business. All you have to do is go to the factory every day and learn the operations.”

The son-in-law interrupted, “I hate factories. I can't stand the noise.”

“I see, " replied the father-in-law. “Well, then you'll work in the office and take charge of some of the operations”

“I hate office work,” said the son-in-law.”I can’t stand being stuck behind a desk all day.”

“Wait a minute,” said the father-in-law. “I just make you half-owner of a moneymaking organization, but you don't like factories and won't work in a office.

What am I going to do with you?"

"Easy," said the young man. "Buy me out."

In his 2003 book, Timeless Beauty, author John Lane writes about the loss of the appreciation for beauty in the modern world. Not because people didn't have the capacity to understand beauty, but because it was irrelevant to them.

This is about having the wrong priorities. If we can't take the time out of our lives to stay a moment and listen to one of the best musicians on Earth play some of the best music ever written; if the surge of modern life so overpowers us that we are deaf and blind to something like that -- then what else might we be missing?

You of course remember that famous line about the Head of the communist Party who stood in front of the people trying to galvanize them for the next big push. He turned to them and said: "Comrades, yesterday we all stood collectively at the edge of the abyss, But today we take a giant step forward,"

Today we are all taking giant steps forward. If you take small steps, you might die from boredom. Ale Loyfen. Everybody is running. But to where?

Rosh Hashanah, the head of the year, is the time to set our priorities straight. To ensure that in the process of making a living, we are not giving up on living itself.

***

Yet, at times it is difficult to hear the music; to turn every day into a musical masterpiece. Life's challenges and painful experience are often overwhelming.

Here again, Rosh Hashanah grants us the perspective and the energy to be able to embrace life in all of its ups and downs.