This is the sermon I delivered on the first day of Rosh Hashanah, October 3, 2024. The embedded video contains the full service; the sermon starts at 1:29:45.

When I’m working on a Rosh Hashanah sermon, I ask myself “What would I want to hear?” And I have to say, this year was a little bit more of a struggle than it usually is. Normally, I start off with a very basic concept of a sermon in late spring that marinates and coalesces over the early summer and feels pretty ready to share by September. This year, however, that was not the case.  

There’s no shortage of things to talk about in a year like we’ve had. Do I lean into politics? Tempting, but don’t worry, no. We have many other chances to discuss and listen, now is not that space. Do I talk about Israel? Again, calm your racing heart, no. I’m not sure there’s anything I could say in this particular season about Israel that I haven’t been saying for the last year.  

So what would I want to hear? Of all the possible topics, what has enough weight and importance this year? What’s something that our community and each of us individually could focus on, discuss, and act on as we work through the liturgy and actions of the days of awe and inspiration? 

What I kept coming back to was my cornerstone text Hillel’s own series of three clarifying questions. “If I am not for myself, who will be for me?”, “If I am only for myself, what am I?”, and “If not now, when?” 

In particular, I’ve been looking at this as the ways it relates to identity in a time when so much of who we are as Jewish people seems to be questioned and discussed. First, the version of self we present – in other words, what makes up the me that you see. Second, the version of me that’s biological – what literally makes up who I am. Third, the version of me that I feel deep down – what do I tap into to connect with myself and with others. 

Why three versions and three questions? Because we are doing too much dividing among each other and not enough dividing and examining of ourselves. More than anything else, I believe division is our number one threat today. Not long division, although that’s pretty menacing. I’m not looking forward to checking my kids’ homework when they get to long division. That’ll be Duncan’s job. No, our number one threat is thinking that not choosing sides is the equivalent of moral bankruptcy. We’ve been conditioned to think you have to have a side. You have to think this or that. And because I’ve chosen my side, I’m not going to listen to your opinion anymore. I’m only going to listen to the opinions that validate my side. I’m sure you’ve heard of this, it’s called confirmation bias.  

Which, if you think about it, is self-destruction. We are doing this to ourselves. I promised no politics, but think about some of the issues that are front and center in our politics time and again – climate, sensible gun laws, immigration. How many issues would we be that much closer to solving if politicians didn’t pick a right and a wrong? Or if you didn’t blindly click share on that Facebook post that got your attention without bothering to find out for yourself if there was any truth to it. There’s no quick fix to the things that are driving us apart. So instead of trying to face societal division head-on, I’m proposing that we divide our individual selves in order to possibly put us all back together again. That’s what the High Holidays are about anyway. Taking things apart and putting them back together each year, hoping to make some improvements as we do.  

To review, here’s how I’m dividing myself. There’s the self we outwardly present – let’s use a modern term and call that the “selfie.” There’s the self we are innately and biologically – let’s change the spelling a little and call that the “cellfie” – C-E-L-L. See how we did that? And there’s the self that connects us all through our humanity. Let’s call that the “soulfie.”  

Rabbi Hillel’s three questions match up pretty nicely to these three selves. He challenges us to consider our individual responsibility, our relationship with others, and the urgency of the present moment. Let’s explore these through the lens, so to speak, of the “selfie,” the “cellfie,” and the “soulfie.” 

First, the selfie. The version of us we have some control over, and the version that others see the most of. And if there’s any question as to the selfie’s legitimacy, this year is the 10th anniversary of the word “selfie” being recognized as a playable term in Scrabble. So happy Srabbleversary to “selfie.”  

It’s also an interesting expression of Hillel’s teaching, “If I am not for myself, who will be for me?” Hillel emphasizes self-advocacy and responsibility, and it’s revealed in how you present yourself, whether capturing a single moment in time, like an actual photo, or your sense of style or your social confidence. How do you define and assert who you are?  

At the same time, how do you acknowledge your worth and presence? Taking a selfie is taking the time to say, “I’m here, and I matter.” Hillel’s version of self-care is not a selfish act; it’s a necessary part of our well-being if we hope to put good back into the world. 

It’s also about taking control of our lives. I don’t believe that we should become absorbed or obsessed over what other people think of us, but there’s a healthy element of ownership in Hillel’s wisdom. The act of self-representation encourages us to be mindful and intentional about our presence and our actions. 

So if that’s the outward reflection, what about the inward? What about the C-E-L-L cellfie? Who am I at my core level, and what role, if any, should that play in how I lead my life? 

Let’s say the concept of cellfie with a C is our genetic makeup, which is a fundamental aspect of who we are and remains unchangeable. “If I am only for myself, what am I?” What am I? Of the three parts to Hillel’s teaching, this if-then makes the least sense to me. The “if” phrase supposes that I could be a person who has no regard whatsoever for my fellow human beings. And the second part questions whether I’m even human at all. What am I? As if I had some choice? As if my molecular construction were somehow up to me? 

Maybe it’s this very mortal “what” that Hillel is challenging us to look beyond. Charles Darwin’s cousin Sir Francis Galton, who first pitted nature against nurture, determined that nature was more important. We can’t change who we are. 

But as you just heard, almost two millennia before Sir Galton, Rabbi Hillel seemed to say, “No. We have a choice.” You can either be a part of a community or not. But I still think there’s some validity to the nature side of the argument. I’d suggest that it’s our very nature, our very cells, that carry within us the desire for connection. We divide, we pick sides, we war, but through all of that, we need each other, quite literally. Without that, what am I?  

The cellfie with a C represents a static and unchangeable part of ourselves, while Hillel’s wisdom emphasizes dynamic interaction. And that’s fine. Our true identity and purpose are found in the balance between self-awareness and altruism. Being aware of our inherited makeup doesn’t lead to self-centeredness. It should ground us, giving us the strength and clarity to contribute meaningfully to others’ lives. 

It’s simply an invitation to reflect on how we use our unique innate qualities and strengths in the world. Our genetic makeup and inherent traits are starting points. True significance comes from how we leverage these traits in service to others. 

By connecting the unchangeable, inherited aspects of our identity to Rabbi Hillel’s statement, we get a fuller picture of the human experience: one that values self-awareness but also recognizes the importance of our actions and relationships in defining who we are and what we contribute. 

Going back and forth like this sets us up perfectly for the last piece of the puzzle. What’s a soulfie? It’s a little play on words created by Rabbi Naomi Levy, just like cellfie with a C, but have you ever stopped to think about what your soul reflects? What would a picture of your soul look like? If you could somehow create a portrait of all the ways you’re lifted up and given strength. All the ways you find yourself. All of your joy and fulfillment. Have you ever stopped to consider what that might look like? And if you haven’t, why not? And if not now, when? Think about it now. Think about a snapshot of self-discovery or personal growth or well-being. 

I would hope that we all regularly have moments of soul fulfillment. But if you don’t reflect on them – if you don’t take a soulfie in the moment – how do you hold them and come back to them? Like they say, “soulfie or it didn’t happen.” Hillel’s call to action, “If not now, when?” is about more than the urgency of doing good. I think it’s about the urgency of remembering the good.  

We don’t know if a soul is something that exists beyond us. But we do know that we exist here and now, and the present moment is the most significant part of our journey toward self-realization. Fulfillment of your soul isn’t something that you can schedule on Google Calendar. There’s no Meetup or Facebook group. It’s you. Now. Finding ways in every moment you’re given to be the truest you. There will never be a convenient time. Hillel knew that 2,000 years ago. 

The question I’ll leave you with: What if you spent some time with yourself divided? Take a bunch of selfies, cellfies with a C, and soulfies, and see what’s reflected back. 

May we be for ourselves, recognizing our worth and advocating for our needs. May we look beyond ourselves, finding our true purpose in our connections and contributions to the world. And may we seize the present moment, nurturing our souls and finding joy in the here and now. 

Shanah tovah, and may this new year bring us closer to our truest selves and to the community we cherish.