Jacob Kramer’s "The Day of Atonement"

Sometimes people tell me the ‘real me’ is lost in my professional, ‘clinical lawyer’ persona and that I should share more of my real self with others. With this in mind, I spent some time reflecting on recent events and thought I would share my thoughts with my blog’s readers. 

So….like it or not, what follows, is the “real me”!

On Saturday afternoon I went for a walk. It was a perfect day for walking. The sun, although weak, was still shining and the air was crisp and cold. The gardens, hedgerows and trees were all looking magnificent in the first shades of Autumn – Yorkshire is not known as “G-d’s County” for nothing!

I decided to walk a route that I usually run. It is 10k and just long enough to feel like a good walk and short enough to be near home in case the falling spots of rain turned into something heavier. I donned a warm pair of gloves, a cosy hat, a warm coat and some MBTs – trainers that are great for walking and set off in earnest.

Almost at once, my mind began to reflect on the events of the week. Not the world in crisis, but last Tuesday, the Jewish New Year was celebrated and the period known as the High Holy Days, began.

The High Holy Days start off with the family gathered together at New Year and culminates in the ‘Kol Nidrei’ evening service on Wednesday night, its music made famous to a wider audience by Barbra Streisand and Neil Diamond. This service starts the Yom Kippur fast which lasts 26hours and concludes on Thursday night.

For me and thousands of others across the globe, it is an annual week or so of awe inspiring solemnity. From a personal perspective it is a week in my life to reflect and think more deeply about my own actions and thoughts before the close of Yom Kippur.

Unlike New Year celebrations at the beginning of January, this is a period of repentance, prayer and charity, a period to try and put right what we can, and hopefully, be forgiven for what we cannot.

The fast of Yom Kippur is scary and tough for many – myself included. It’s very hard not to eat and drink for 26 hours! Other people profess not to be bothered in the least by it, but for me I find it gets harder every year, while the thought of the Fast becomes more ominous as it approaches. Maybe as you get older you understand more about life – how quickly life passes by while you might be looking the other way.

As I walked on Saturday my thoughts turned – probably inevitably – to “marriage and the family”, had featured in the Rabbi’s New Year sermon at the synagogue. His sermon in defence of marriage was criticised by some as being too unexciting, too ordinary. He had extolled the sanctity of marriage and some people were looking for more. Thinking about it, of course he would. Why wouldn’t he? But was the criticism of his sermon justified?

The Rabbi and I approach the issue from differing perspectives. Mine is based on practical experience having witnessed so many broken marriages. I believe in marriage and I believe from a legal perspective it is without a doubt, the safest environment to raise a family. And I understand his view, which in common with all other clergymen of different religions, is ultimately based on adherence to faith.

Then I asked myself a deeper question. Marriage for many people is often about having a family and what are the ramifications for family if there is no marriage? Would having no marriage render a family rootless?

Last Tuesday, at the beginning of the New Year, my family hosted a lunch for fifteen members of the wider family. Many women in our congregation had invited far more people to their own gatherings. I heard of one woman who sat 24 people down to eat while another casually mentioned (albeit in a loud voice so others could hear) she had 45 members of her family and extended family and friends to lunch but “it was nothing!” 

Our table was proudly headed by my beloved parents and the newest member of our family – my niece’s husband – joined us for the first time. We had a great lunch, entirely cooked by our 20-year old son Ben. When asked where he got his cookery skills from, he answered unhesitatingly “The television watching Jamie Oliver because mum can’t cook!” He produced fantastic food including a perfect Beef Wellington and Chocolate Pavlova, and we are incredibly proud of him. For all I hate cleaning up, it was a pleasure to be Ben’s kitchen hand.

As I walked past the park I saw families with new babies out for a walk and some dads playing football with their children, all different cultures and races, I thought that in every society, the family however constituted plays an invaluable, irreplaceable role in our lives. The value of the family is the most important ‘value’ we will ever have, across the world. My mind then wandered to those people I know who had lost a member of their family, whether through death or divorce or someone moving away. The New Year for their families will be sadder than last year. Loss of a family member will one day happen to us all and we have to comfort those who mourn their loss. But while we have our family intact, we need to cherish them.

Soon the rain was falling heavier than I’d expected and I began to feel rather sodden. I began to think how marriage is a strong root for a family and while it will not root every family together, the Rabbi was addressing the issue with the largest congregation of the year, more than one thousand people. He knew (and so did I) that some of his congregants may be thinking of ending their marriage, and he was fighting hard to keep them together -not just for the couple concerned, but for the sake of not uprooting the generations of family who come together each year to enjoy being a family together. His message is one which makes a great deal of sense to me.

The final mile and a half of my walk was mostly uphill, starting with a sharp pull upwards and with the physical test came the mental one – it was time to think about what I had so far been avoiding. I started to think about people I may have offended and what I could do better this year.

One friend of mine in London sends me an e-mail every year asking for forgiveness if she has offended me – although I cannot believe this would ever happen, as she is as sweet and gentle as could be.

Only such a kind-hearted person would send an email like that. However, forgiveness of others is a prerequisite to forgiveness from G-d. This year has been a hard year in that respect. There are some people who have deeply, deeply, offended me, and being human, it is hard to forgive them. But as I walked, I tried to do so. Then, as if that wasn’t difficult enough, I turned to my own shortcomings.

While I shall refrain from going into the details of my thoughts and the conclusions I reached, I think it is important to accept that none of us are perfect, myself included.

The road had coincidentally become steeper and the walk got harder, and in the rain it was easy to feel weighed down physically and mentally – but as I continued and trudged uphill, unexpectedly and suddenly I saw some beautiful tall trees towards the top of the hill arching over the road, their stunning mix of colours, with olive greens, rusts, hazel and yellow shimmering in the light.

As I noticed the first conkers on the ground, the rain stopped and the sun came out again, albeit slightly paler as the day began to draw to a close. My hour and a half walk, with it’s deep introspection, was nearly over and as the road flattened out, I thought to myself as I walked the last half mile, ‘I’m ready now for Yom Kippur;- bring it on!’

And then I was home.