One of my favorite poems at times like these is by Lea Goldberg, 

a 20th century Israeli Hebrew poet. She begins:

הַיָּרֹק הַיּוֹם יָרֹק מְאֹד.

וְהָאָפֹר הַיּוֹם אָפֹר מְאֹד

“The Day After” by Lea Goldberg

The green is very green today.

The gray is very gray today

There’s a little black, but no white in the city,

What is stormy is very stormy today

And the past, today, is very past.

And there’s a little future, but there’s no present in the air. 

It’s still so hard to breathe.

It’s still so hard to think in the face of this winding wind.

and it’s really not simple to wait.

The storm brushes against my eyes,

Every moment shatters

But the green is very green today.

The world right now may feel very gray and stormy and it may be hard to breathe. But Goldberg begins and ends with the assertion that the green is very green today. Last week I spoke about some of that gray and storminess. But today I want to focus on the green.  Because we need to have both. 

Many of you have come to me and said that the world is a mess. And to a large extent that is true. But it is also not true. Judaism teaches us that even in the darkest of times, and tragically, Jews have seen dark times, we need to remember the principle of Hakarat HaTov, which means recognizing the good. Alan Morinis, in his book Everyday Holiness, teaches about the concept of Hakarat HaTov by reminding us “The good is already there. Practicing gratitude means being fully aware of the good that is already yours.”

Judaism is full of practices to help us recognize the good and cultivate gratitude. We begin our day with one. Upon awakening traditionally we say, “Modah Ani l’fanecha, melech chai v’yakam, she’he’chezarta bi nishmati b’chemlah, rabba emunatecha” which means “I am grateful to you ever-living sovereign, who has restored my soul to me in mercy, you have so much trust.” The first words out of our mouths in the morning express gratitude for being alive.

These are words that some of us say every single day. If this has not been your practice, I encourage you to try beginning the day by simply saying “Todah,” thank you, and perhaps go from there. You may find the words you speak don’t feel the same each time. There have been days when admittedly I have forgotten, or sometimes said them begrudgingly. But this past year they have felt different. It is overwhelming to consider the privilege of being alive. 

And then of course we began our worship this morning with “Nisim b’chol yom,” daily miracles. We thank God in a universal sense, but also a very personal one. We are grateful that God “Rokah ha aretz al ha mayim,” stretches the earth over the waters. In other words, we thank God for literally giving us ground on which to stand. 

The world is full of miraculous things and it is our job to see them. As you know, we are to try to do that 100 times each day–to say 100 blessings every day. I try to remember the words of my liturgy professor Dr. Larry Hoffman, “if you see something, say something.” Evoking the words we heard so often in fearful reference to security, he flips them to mean that when we see something beautiful or awe-inspiring, we should say something. There are blessings for seeing the ocean, or flowers, or a long lost friend. And if, like me, you have not memorized each one, you can carry these blessings in your pocket because yes, there’s an app for that. One is called “Daily Blessings” by the CCAR and after the holiday I would be happy to show it to you.

These teachings and blessings are particularly important now because gratitude can also make us more resilient. A recent meta-analysis of studies demonstrated that patients who underwent gratitude interventions experienced…better mental health, and fewer symptoms of anxiety and depression. As Rabbi Andrea C. London wrote in the Mussar Torah Commentary,  “Research has found that being grateful makes us happier and more resilient and improves our self-esteem. Physical benefits include better sleep, lower blood pressure, pain reduction, and a greater desire to engage in physical exercise. Interpersonally, gratitude makes us more compassionate, helpful, and kind.”

So perhaps, even in this difficult time, it is worth making the effort to recognize the good. We can be grateful for a friend or a relative or a beautiful place we love or a treasured possession. As I do so, I realize I am also grateful for things happening in our world on a broader scale. Even in the realm of the climate crisis, which I spoke about two years ago, and as you know, is upending the lives of people in our country right now, there are places where you can recognize the good. 

Last month I had the privilege of visiting Copenhagen as part of a Wexner Foundation trip for Jewish professionals committed to fighting the climate crisis. What I saw there filled me with hope and gratitude. For decades, Denmark has been working toward becoming carbon neutral, not because they are tree-huggers but because in the 1970s they realized that a reliance on fossil fuels was dangerous for their economy. And they are achieving their goals in part because in Denmark the climate crisis is not a partisan issue. It is simply a reality that Danish citizens recognize. There are wind turbines, solar panels on roofs, and green construction everywhere. Nearly half of the people in Copenhagen use bikes within the city rather than cars. I know in the Motor City this may sound sacreligious, but studies show that about 40% of the trips Americans take are 2 miles or shorter. Americans don’t need to give up our cars, but the Danes have proven that you don’t need a car to pick up your herring or other essential items.  In Denmark, recycling centers are commonplace and amazing in their range from textiles to batteries to opportunities to shelve unwanted books and clothes for others to take. 

And after Copenhagen reduces and recycles, it figures out how to burn waste in novel ways. I saw an incinerator that is not only keeping trash out of landfills but it is one of the cleanest waste-to-energy plants in the world, thanks to technology that filters its emissions. Particles and pollutants from the smoke are removed, and a process called Selective Catalytic Reduction breaks down harmful nitrogen oxide (NOx) into nitrogen and water vapor. Through carbon capture, it is working to be carbon neutral. And the energy it produces heats homes.

Copenhagen was a glimpse into what the future could hold and it filled me with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. As I said two years ago, the technologies to fight climate change exist. It is just a question of whether we commit to using them.

Our synagogue is committed to using climate-safe technology whenever we can. We are looking into installing solar panels on the exterior of our roof deck in part with funds from American government subsidies working to fight climate change. We are also examining how to make our renovated building even more energy efficient. If you are interested in being part of this effort, please let me know.

And if you want to be part of change on a larger scale, there is something else each of us can do. I believe the climate crisis is the greatest existential threat to our children and grandchildren and national policy will make a tremendous difference in their lives. So I am allowing myself to be grateful for the opportunity to express my priorities in this upcoming election. Yes, the election. There is a lot to be worried about and we can be discouraged by the partisan rancor and divisiveness. At the same time, can you imagine what Jews would have said just 300 years ago if I told them I have the right to vote in my country’s election? 

Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, an American Orthodox rabbi widely regarded as the leading Jewish law authority of the 20th century, wrote a letter in 1984 in which he said, “A fundamental principle of Judaism is hakara[t] hatov–recognizing benefits afforded us and giving expression to our appreciation. Therefore, it is incumbent on each Jewish citizen to participate in the democratic system which guards the freedoms we enjoy. The most fundamental responsibility incumbent on each individual is to register and to vote.”

In 2016 Moment magazine surveyed rabbis across the denominational spectrum and asked them “Are we Commanded to Vote?”

Orthodox rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein responded, “The use of the word “commanded” makes this question easier. There are a lot of warm, fuzzy reasons to vote, but as a halachist, I am limited to citing…compelling reasons why one is actually obligated to do so.

The first is an overarching principle of Jewish life that translates again and again into normative behavior: Hakarat ha-tov, recognizing the good that someone or something has provided you. This is a great country for Jews. It is a minimal expectation of citizenship that we participate in the electoral process, and I see it as nothing less than obligatory to show our appreciation of this great country by acting on that expectation.”

Reconstructionist rabbi Fred Scherlinder Dobb wrote, “We may not be commanded, exactly, but we’re fools, hypocrites and worse if we fail to vote. Judaism puts values front and center, and in a democracy, voting is the core expression of values. Think we should “pursue justice” (Deuteronomy 16)? Vote. “Love the stranger/immigrant” (Deuteronomy 10)? Vote. Keep humans and Earth, adam and adamah, connected (Genesis 2)? Vote. Love our own, protect others (Leviticus 19) and honor all who are created in the Divine image (Genesis 1)? Vote.” 

So, I have already voted. I submitted my ballot this week. Have you voted? If not, what is your plan to do so? I want us to be a 100% voting congregation. Not because it is warm and fuzzy, but because it is a fundamental responsibility for Jews and for Americans.

As I stand before you and look around, I also feel a powerful sense of Hakarat HaTov because I am grateful for us. As Rachel said last night and Sarah said this morning, the Downtown Synagogue is flourishing in many ways. And finishing our building renovation is something for which I am grateful every day. But what is truly remarkable is when we show up for each other in the building. Last year I spoke about the national epidemic of loneliness. It is wonderful to know that if you come to the Downtown Synagogue for Shabbat, or for a holiday, or for a block party, there will be people to greet you. If you are someone who comes frequently, please continue to welcome those who are new. And if you are coming for the first time, we want to meet you.

Finally, we can apply the principle of Hakarat HaTov, of recognizing the good, to this sacred day. Today is not an easy day. In fact as our Torah readings this morning teach, in both Acharei Mot in Leviticus and in our Maftir in Numbers, is a day when עִנִּיתֶ֖ם אֶת־נַפְשֹׁתֵיכֶ֑ם, you shall practice self-denial, or perhaps self-humbling. But Yom Kippur illustrates a belief that people are fundamentally able to change. We are able to move from one state of being to another. We are able to do teshuvah and to be forgiven. In a cynical, stubborn world, that is an opportunity worth our gratitude.

Rebbe Nachman of Breslov was quoted as saying, "Gratitude rejoices with her sister, joy and is always ready to light a candle and have a party. Gratitude doesn’t much like the old cronies of boredom, despair, and taking life for granted.”

I, for one, do not want to be counted among those old cronies, and I imagine neither do you. Each morning I am reminded to be grateful. And so I try to open my eyes to the people I love, the beauty of the world, the acts of kindness I experience.  I can also recognize the good in people who are implementing technologies to improve the lives of our grandchildren. I can act on my Jewish responsibility to express my values in our democracy. I can rejoice at seeing you when we gather and even recognize the good of this amazing practice we call teshuva.

And so I challenge you to ask yourselves: Where can you recognize the good? Particularly in a way that will give you the resilience to face the day? We need to allow ourselves to sit with the gray and the storminess. Being grateful does not undo the reality of the people who are dying, the rancor that is prevalent, the destruction that is painfully present. But gratitude is a tool Judaism provides for living in times like these. May it help you to see that, even with all the gray, the green is indeed very green today.