Just one week before he died, Oliver Sacks—the noted British neurologist and writer—published what would be his last essay in the New York Times. Titled “Sabbath,” it was in fact a reflection on the role that Shabbat and religious identity had played in his life. Touching on his upbringing, his sexuality, and his struggles with faith and connection, he tells the story of a visit to Jerusalem in what would be the year before he died. Sitting with his partner, in his Orthodox family’s home, he notes:
The peace of the Sabbath, of a stopped world, a time outside time, was palpable, infused everything, and I found myself drenched with a wistfulness, something akin to nostalgia, wondering what if: What if A and B and C had been different? What sort of person might I have been? What sort of a life might I have lived?
On this Wednesday morning, I want to suggest that these reflections are germane not only to Shabbat, but to this time of the year in general.
These are questions that animate this season, from the tentative preparations of Elul, to the opening notes of the S’lichot service. Only, Dr. Sacks—in his beautiful ponderings on death and mortality—writes in the past tense; he writes of a life completed. In fact, he completes the essay with these poignant words:
And now, weak, short of breath, my once-firm muscles melted away by cancer, I find my thoughts, increasingly, not on the supernatural or spiritual, but on what is meant by living a good and worthwhile life—achieving a sense of peace within oneself. I find my thoughts drifting to the Sabbath, the day of rest, the seventh day of the week, and perhaps the seventh day of one’s life as well, when one can feel that one’s work is done, and one may, in good conscience, rest.
Our tradition, in these days especially, inspires and urges us to live in a future tense. Not what sort of a person might I have been—but what sort of person will I be? Not what sort of a life might I have lived, but what sort of life do I want to live? How will I, when my time comes, feel that I may—in good conscience—rest?
Over the next days and weeks, we have many opportunities for you to reflect on those questions. We hope you will join us to pray, contemplate, and celebrate together as we welcome 5784 and its new beginnings.
—Rabbi Sari Laufer