Each year, at this same season, we gather in the synagogue. We gather many times during the cycle of the calendar, but this time more significantly and with much more fervor. Not because we have received an epiphany, but rather because we have been groomed to understand the awesomeness of the occasion.

The prayers we say Selichot night and throughout the High Holiday season are designed for us to segue into a feeling of contrition and forgiveness. We mouth words and then expect some miracle to occur that will absolve us of all that is considered wrong in our dealings with one another or in our understanding of our connection with an invisible God, whose demands seem to come from some indescribable tale of torture and ordeal.

So, we listen to the prayers, we mumble some Amens, and then we distance ourselves from the experience because it is too gruesome to fathom. And yet we do it year after year, and we feel good after the encounter.

Strange? And we do this year after year in the same place – the synagogue. Strange?

Not so strange! I remember reading somewhere an essay that dealt with the synagogue and its significance in our lives. It mentioned that fact that we pray together with our co-religionists and in doing so we become the collective conscience of all of Israel. There is a connection to the past because generations that have preceded us did the very same thing. There is a feeling of future because we know that the generations that will follow will do the very same thing.

And yet there is still a magical feeling just being here. There is something enchanting about mouthing words we don’t even know the meaning of but remember hearing our parents or grandparents repeating them. It is indescribable.

Every time we encounter something of significance in our lives, we don’t run to the JCC’s or the Federation buildings – we make our way to the one place that reminds us that we are Jews and the sacrifices we continue to make enable us to sound this declaration because it emanates from a feeling of righteousness. Where else can we make these pronouncements? Where else can we achieve this feeling of wholeness and completion?

So, the question remains: why are we here? The answer is not so remote. We are here because this is where we bury and marry – where we express our sorrow and delight as we continue our journey through life. God may not be so distant after all. We say the prayers because we know that only through prayer can we truly understand everything there is to fulfillment. We speak to an invisible God because much of what we need and want can be accomplished with perseverance and determination. We understood a long time ago that prayers alone are not enough. Seeing God gives no more credence to the miracles of everyday living any more than not seeing God.

Why are we here? We are here because we still need to understand that we are not exclusive but inclusive. We are here because we need to remind ourselves that we should take one day at a time. We are here because a New Year gives us the ability to re-group and re-charge our batteries. We are here because we need to remember that we are not alone in this world. We need each other. We don’t have to like each other, but we do have to respect each other and care for each other.

We are here because of a story I once heard about a class that was listing what they thought were the present Seven Wonders of the World. All kinds of things were mentioned such as the Taj Mahal, the Great Pyramids, the Grand Canyon, the Panama Canal, the Empire State building – on and on, the list became endless.

The teacher of the class noted that one girl had not finished the assignment and asked her if she was having trouble making a list. The girl unhesitatingly replied that she was having trouble because there were so many wonders. Finally, the teacher asked her to read what she had written thus far. The girl hesitated and then began: