I’ve never liked the term wicked other than in reference to witches. On Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement, the word comes out a lot in reference to people’s bad thoughts and motivations. Judaism doesn’t have the heavy “do it the way we tell you to or face damnation” feel that some religions do. So seeing that word popping up so much in prayer books on one particular day of the year has always struck me as odd.
Sure, it’s the one day of the year Judaism focuses completely on our dark sides. No one likes to talk about the darkness. For the most part, when people come to pray, they’re looking for hope, guidance, comfort, relief, compassion, faith, continuity, security, companionship, love, and peace. Bringing out long discussions of struggles with darkness generally doesn’t offer much to people looking for these things unless you spin it very well.
The problem I always have is that I haven’t met anyone I would call wicked. There’s no one I would call evil either. These are such black and white terms. In reality, there aren’t many villains who sit in dark caves, black castles or secret lairs and plot their vengeance on innocent people and protagonists – or who plot to use solar powered laser beams to take over the world as in storybooks, cartoons and James Bond movies.
If there were, life would be so much simpler. We would live in a polarized world where you’re either an Auto-bot or a Deceptacon (Transformers reference). It was the aspect of the Cold War that in a strange way appealed to people – there was an us and a them. The politics of a polarized world were simpler because you knew who your enemy was. Today, the “bad guys” are here and there – and not all working together. In a way they’re scarier because they have less incentive not to act. Hence the term “rogue states.”
But people – even nations – aren’t so simple. Everyone faces an element of what I would consider darkness, not evil. We face anger and depression. We’re rattled by events of our past. We have traumas we get stuck on. And then there’s plain ol’ mental illness – which sometimes isn’t as obvious as schizophrenia.
No one sees a sociopath coming and no one knows exactly what causes someone to fall into sociopathy. Sociopaths, in my opinion, are the closest thing to an evil human being there is. But I also believe they are sick because from everything I’ve gathered – they don’t see right and wrong the way other people do.
Aside from sociopaths, those of us “everyday people” sometimes run into the walls of life and fall down on the floor. Sometimes we’re stunned and we sit or lay down for awhile – dark and sad. When this happens, we make bad choices. We sabotage ourselves. We become neglectful and self-centered. We forget joy. We stop participating in life in a meaningful way. Worst of all – we lose sight of our blessings. We stop being grateful for what we have and in so doing lose touch with our humanity.
This is the challenge that people face. This is the darkness. I don’t believe it’s wicked – I believe it’s human and it’s what everyone battles at some point or another. Once in awhile someone succumbs to the darkness and in a sense they pull their loved ones closer to it. But no one intends the harm they cause.
Yom Kippur discusses this aspect of our wrong doings. We cause each other harm unintentionally, often without knowing we ever did it. The off-hand comment that offends someone, the thoughtlessness of forgetting someone’s birthday or special event, talking on our cell phones and drifting on the freeway – they all cause problems for others.
They’re either moments of self-centered behavior or times when we get caught up in human drama and become overwhelmed. We can and should improve.
But they’re not evil or wicked.
In the end, I believe that in every day, in every moment – we choose what seems like the best choice in that moment. We choose what makes sense. Sometimes we’re impaired – by sleep, fatigue, alcohol, drugs, or just inexplicable brain farts. Other times choices become complex and no matter which way we go, there’s going to be a fall-out. We get caught in moral dilemmas that seem impossible to come out of without someone getting the shaft.
This is life – and it’s one of the less pleasant parts of it. What we choose and the reasons we make the choices are what count. Sometimes we realize the mistake we made was a few choices back and all we can do is learn.
There’s also anger. That moment when something inside sparks. Sometimes anger is righteous and the agent of positive change. Other times we lose judgement and make our worst mistakes in those moments. Sometimes mistakes also lead to clarity and change too.
Nothing seems so black and white to me as wicked and evil.
It’s all part of being human. Shit falls out of the sky and we scramble to figure out how to respond. We struggle to find and create meaning. Some of us think back to one of the first lessons we learned – when we face danger, potential or real – hold hands. It usually works out better that way.
This year, while I can certainly think of ways to be contrite and there is no shortage of things to improve – as there always is – I find myself trying to think about darkness. Emily and I are so blessed and lucky to be in a period that feels so far from the dark places in life.
We are enjoying one of those wonderful moments and times when it seems we fly above them and live closer to the light. There’s a line in an Indigo Girls song,” Darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable, and lightness has a call that’s hard to hear.” We’re lucky that at this juncture in our lives, that call is loud and clear.
I try to remember that flying high and in the light – as such wonderful times as these allow – is special. We both value it everyday. Because even as we navigate our way through this year and through the world, we’ll run up against people who are in their everyday world, with their everyday challenges, battling their everyday darknesses. We have to be compassionate and not remove ourselves to try to protect our bubble. And we have to know that it could – and at some point will be – us. The summers of life are seasons too, and one day there will be rain.
Fortunately, this Yom Kippur it hasn’t come. And for that and for the health and happiness of our friends and family – we are grateful.
Sent from my iPad
