The reading of the Torah for this special day, although somehow foreign to our daily experience, focuses on the uniqueness of Yom Kippur. At the center of the Yom Kippur liturgy, is a scene from the time when the Temple stood in Jerusalem, 2000 years ago. The Kohen Gadol – the High Priest- used to perform a complex and colorful ceremony of atonement, of which we have only a few reminiscences today, among them the Torah reading for Yom Kippur.

We can only imagine what the unique experience of witnessing how the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies meant for the Jews in the land of Israel, more than 2000 years ago. How he pronounced God’s Holiest name (the four-letter-name) while being surrounded by a cloud of incense, and how our ancestors, hundred of thousands of Jews, bowed down in awe exclaiming: "Praised be His glorious sovereignty throughout all time".

The rabbis, who put together the Machzor, without knowing how to describe the singularity of the day, wrote: "How glorious was the Kohen Gadol emerging from the Holy of Holies! He was like the morning star appearing through the clouds, or like the moon when it is full, Like the sun reflected on God’s Temple, Or the rainbow’s light on gleaming clouds, like a tree blooming in the spring, or a lily by a brook" […]."Blessed were those who shared the joy and delight of our people" (from the Avoda)

We don’t have access anymore to this apparently extraordinary experience, but all of us can relate to what a "once-in-a-lifetime-experience" is.

For some, such experiences are special trips they still remember or a conference they attended or a special person they met or a family event they attended.

Singular experiences are brief, but usually very meaningful and powerful. In contrast to daily experiences, which people tend to forget, unique experiences last longer in our memories.

But, how are special and daily experiences connected?

To try to answer this question I will introduce another question, a question many people have asked me in the last few days.

Why don’t we blow the Shofar on Rosh Hashanha when the holiday falls on Shabbat?

If the Shofar is such a powerful Jewish symbol, if its sound is so touching, so deep, so penetrating, why don’t we blow the Shofar on Rosh Hashanha when it falls on Shabbat?

Here is the answer. As some of you may know, there are many prohibitions on Shabbat. The rabbis in the Talmud, understanding the words of the Torah, enumerated 39 "master labors", which we are forbidden to do on Shabbat. These 39 labors have very little to do with our concept of the word "work", but I will leave this subject for another occasion. One of these 39 forbidden labors is to carry on object from a private domain (e.g. a house) to a public domain (e.g. the street). You may not be very familiar with the intricacies of the laws of Shabbat, so let me share with you that carrying an object from one domain to another on Shabbat is –from the perspective of Jewish law- a transgression equal to lighting fire or plowing the field on Shabbat.

Now, in the past, or even today in more traditional communities, the Shofar is not only sounded by the rabbi or an expert "Baal Tokea" (we have a few of them at Beth Israel), but by almost every adult, who wishes to include his family in the Mitzvah of blowing the Shofar. The rabbis –therefore- were afraid that people, eager to perform such an attractive Mitzvah, would go to the house of an experienced "Baal Tokea" on Shabbat to learn how to blow the Shofar properly, carrying the Shofar from one domain to another, and therefore violating the Shabbat. The rabbis decided that on Shabbat, nobody would blow the Shofar, in order to avoid a possible transgression of the Shabbat.

Now, I know what you are thinking, because I was there as well. You are thinking: And that is the reason we did not blow the Shofar 10 days ago? Just because a bunch of "old rabbis" 2000 years ago, were afraid that someone would profane the Shabbat? The answer to that question is "yes". The holiness of the Shabbat is so important, that the rabbis gave up half of the uplifting spiritual experience of listening to the sound of the Shofar, when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat, in order to preserve such holiness.

At this point you may be asking yourselves? What is Rabbi Kogan’s point? What is he trying to tell us? And moreover, why is he talking about Rosh Hashanah, when today is Yom Kippur?

Here is my point:

By elevating the sanctity of Shabbat over that of Rosh Hashanah, or even over the sanctity of Yom Kippur (on Yom Kippur we have six Aliyot to the Torah while on Shabbat we have seven) the Rabbis made a statement, which is valid even today, or moreover, is more valid today than 2000 years ago: What kept the Jewish people going was not a "once-a-year", or a "once-in- a-lifetime" experience, but a constant commitment, week after week, of which the Shabbat is the best representative.

But there is still another important point, even a more important one:

Single spiritual experiences, no matter how powerful they are, can never replace a long term commitment, which in Judaism is translated into a life of Torah and Mitzvot.

God’s revelation at Mount Sinai and the giving of the 10 commandments, the crossing of the Red Sea, the victory of the Maccabeans over the Greeks, the courage of the defenders of Massada, none of these single powerful acts can have the same impact as thousands of Jews eating Kosher or keeping Shabbat.

The glorious view of the Kohen Gadol emerging from the Holy of Holies, the penetrating sound of the Shofar, and the beauty of the Hanukah lights can not equal the power of Jewish teenagers putting on Tefilin or lighting Shabbat candles.

The melodious voice of Kol Nidrei, the sanctuary full of people on Yom Kippur, and the impact of my remarks, well appreciated by you, pale in comparison with a day after day Jewish education at Yeled, with one hour a week of Torah study, or with coming to Synagogue on a regular basis.

Of course, it is easier for me to remember the sound of the Shofar during last Rosh Hashanah than a Shabbat meal with my family two months ago or three months ago or four months ago, but the deep and lasting effect of repeated simple routines, surpasses the impact of single "unique" experiences.

And for those of you who may think right now that this Jewish lesson may not apply to your life, let me share something else with you. This fundamental lesson is also true in the relationship with our spouses, with our parents, with our children and with our friends. Kissing our children good night, every single night, even though it may be part of a family routine, has a more lasting effect than an unforgettable trip to Disneyworld. Sharing with our spouses the latest changes at work or at home, every night at dinner time, has a more powerful effect than a diamond ring (that’s what I tell Silvia when she mentions a diamond ring).

As you probably know, when I speak to you, I really speak to myself. I endeavor to understand the importance of long term commitments, of daily acts of kindness, of regular study and of constant observance. In the past, however, I promised myself that I would change, but I have failed in many of my commitments. I got trapped in self imposed promises and I wasn’t able to transform them into lasting actions. So in my despair, I looked for easy answers, for single isolated spiritual experiences, which by nature lack the potential of transforming our lives and the lives of our families in the long term.

However, every Rosh Hashanha, every Yom Kippur, brings a new opportunity to change. So I would like to make a commitment, a new one, that this year things will be different. That this year I will increase my Jewish observance, my Jewish learning, the quality and the quantity of the time I spend with the people I love, and that this year I will try to involve myself more in long term lasting experiences and to give up the temptation of adding meaning to my life through sporadic, ephemeral, "unique’ spiritual experiences.

With God’s help, I will succeed.

And by the way, here are a few long term lasting Jewish experiences you can challenge yourself to add to your lives.

I hope that you will be able to incorporate some of these important Mitzvoth, these commandments, to your life, and hopefully one Mitzvah will lead to another.

May God bless you and your family with a year of long term lasting experiences, with health, sustenance and peace, with a good, sweet and blessed year!