For many rabbis, the High Holidays are a world, whole and complete, a universe unto itself. From the beginning of September to their terminus weeks later, they create a gravitational pull, a zone of exclusivity. When I worked in the pulpit, I couldn’t think of anything else. On the eve of Yom Kippur, I had many things to do, but I couldn’t work on anything to save my life. The task of presiding over the experience was paralyzing. I didn’t loosen up until I was speaking my first words, the ones that called the congregation to atonement. Even then, it was white knuckles until bedtime.
I feel a version of that on the eve of the midterms. They will begin in a few hours, but they have already shattered my concentration. Will Peltola survive the so-called scandal of the Sullivans? Will Haley Stevens’ betrayal of her party obliterate her career? I suppose I have opinions on these issues and others, but everything has come down to simpler questions. Will my party win the House? Will it win the Senate? And if by fate it doesn’t, will we survive the catastrophe?
So much of consequence hangs in the balance. Every morning I recite the Shema and then call up the online version of the New York Times. It used to be a mix of notes about the world, some positive, some dispiriting, some in-between. I’m sure I’m hallucinating, but maybe not: the first ten articles are now irremediably bleak, from the Administration’s betrayal of Zelensky and Ukraine, to the president’s efforts to undermine trust in the elections. The Times’ Opinion Page just ran a piece by Howell Raines who claimed legitimately that Trump fails to embody any of the qualities that must animate a president. No learning, no dignity, no restraint, no nothing. That feels exactly right to me.
But if the polls are right, there may soon be a shift. It won’t be immediate and it may not be comprehensive, but at least it will be better than we’ve got. With the servile support of the Roberts Court, Trump will continue to rule by fiat and dissimulation. But civil society, led by Jamie Raskin, will get stronger each month until order is restored. That’s my dream and I’m sticking with it.
But in the meantime, I’m going into the kitchen to bake. I volunteered to bring a Jewish coffee cake to our watch party. If there is justice in the world, it will usher in a change, and its sweetness will signal the restoration of sanity. If not, I tried. That’s all I can do.