08 Oct ONE STEP AT A TIME

I recently read a story
about one of the most
successful magazine
entrepreneurs in the
world. The man was
raised by a single mother
in the Midwest, struggled
growing up, and was
failing out of high
school. He promised his mother he would take
the SAT test, though he didn’t expect to get a
good score. He was shocked to learn he got a
1480 out of 1600 on the SAT. His mother,
knowing her son, asks, “Did you cheat?” He
swore to her he did not. And suddenly, things
started to change.
In his senior year he decided since he’s smart
he should attend classes. He stopped hanging
out with his old crowd. The teachers and kids
seemed to notice. They started treating him
differently. He graduated, attends community
college, went on to Wichita State, and
eventually to an Ivy League university. He
went on to become a successful magazine
entrepreneur.
You might be looking at this story as someone
who was really smart all along but just needed
the standardized test to unlock his potential.
No. That isn’t the story. What comes next is the
important part. Twelve years after his fateful
SAT exam, the man gets a letter in the mail
from Princeton, New Jersey. He doesn’t think
anything about it. The next day his wife asks

him if he’s going to open the letter.
He opens it. It turns out the SAT board
periodically reviews their test-taking
procedures and policies. He was one of 13
people sent the wrong SAT score. His actual
score was half of what he thought he got: 740.
People had been saying his whole life changed
when he got the 1480. What really happened is
his behavior changed. He started acting like a
person with a 1480 and started doing what
someone with a score like that does.
Indeed, though not often thought of in this way,
that is what Yom Kippur is about. Most
mistakenly think that Yom Kippur is a day to
feel worthless, a total failure, a mess-up, an
underachiever. After all, we spend this day
literally smacking ourselves and counting one
by one the ways we have failed, the mistakes
we have made. It seems a bit much. Yes, it is
sobering and productive, but can’t we say vidui
once? “I shouldn’t have done x, y and z,” mean
it sincerely, then move on, break our fast. Why
must we hit our chests and confess over and
over and over again? Is perpetually beating
ourselves up what this day is literally all about?
We say towards the end of our Yom Kippur
ַעַד ֶׁשּׁלא נוַצְַרְִּתּי ֵאֵיִנִי ְכְַדַאי, ְוְַעְַכְָׁשׁו ֶׁשּׁנוַצְַרְִּתּי ,Amida
I ,formed was I before ,God “ְּ.כִּאִּלּו לא נוָצְָרְִּתּי
was unworthy, and now that I have been formed
it is as if I had not been formed.” I dread
arriving at these words each year, words that
are debilitating, deflating, and really very
depressing. They come from the Gemara

(Berachos 17a) – Rava said them at the
conclusion of the Amida every day. I was
nothing before, I am nothing now, what is the
point of living at all?
Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook reads
this disheartening tefilla in a very different
way. He explains it is in fact empowering,
inspiring, and motivating. It is the answer and
response to the imposter syndrome, to feeling
worthless and a fraud. Explains Rav Kook,
“Before I was formed, I was unworthy” means
that each and every one of us enters the world
at the exact moment when we are needed.
Before we were formed, there was no need for
us. Hashem sends us into His world at the exact
moment when we are worthy — that our skills,
talent and abilities and even our challenges are
uniquely needed by the universe, by the world,
by our neighbors, family and friends. We are
precisely what the world needs at the moment
we arrive and for the time that we are in it.
Until now I wasn’t needed, but if I am here, I
must answer the call, live up to that potential in
me, recognize my ability and be the person the
world was waiting for and needs at this
moment. Rav Kook is teaching us that the
vidui of Yom Kippur, our confession and
admission, is not our failures, not a list of rules
and regulations we violated per se, rather it is
more an admission and confession of failing to
realize the potential inside us, indulging in
temptations, urges and impulses that distracted
us from our core mission, from who we are
meant to be. If we forsake our mission, if we
squander our time and resources, if we fail to
see the potential inside us and to believe in
our power, then “now that I have been formed
it is as if I had not been formed.”
Yom Kippur is not to beat ourselves up, but
to raise ourselves up, to use 25 hours for an
honest look in the mirror, to admit the
potential that is inside us, to regret the ways
we have failed to realize it and to pledge to
make our existence purposeful, meaningful
and impactful.
Degel Machaneh Efraim cites the Baal Shem
Tov in explaining the pasuk we recite today
ַֽאֽל־ַּ֭תְׁ֭שִׁלִיֵכִֵנִי ְלְֵ֣ע֣ת ִזְִקְָ֑נ֑ה ִּכְּכְ֥לֹ֥ות (71:9 Tehillim(
;age old to off me cast not Do , ֹּ֝כ�ִ֗֝ח֗י ַֽאֽל־ַּתַּעְַזְֵֽבִֽנִי
when my strength fails, do not forsake me!
The simple understanding is this is a tefillah
that one maintain his physical strength, vigor,
and cognitive faculties through old age.
But the Baal Shem Tov explained that Dovid
Hamelech was asking for help in a different
way. Al tashlicheini, don’t cast me off to old
age, don’t let me act like a person who has a
fixed mindset, who is done, a finished
product, who considers his or her book
complete, done. Let me not live a stale life,
give my mitzvos and my life, my mission and
my purpose freshness, energy, vibrancy and
dynamism.
It was said that in Kotzk, there was no such
thing as an old man. An older individual
simply contained in him three or four
younger people. He may have been eighty
years old, but he was full of energy and
enthusiasm, he is constantly moving if not
physically, spiritually. Today, it is often the
other way around: a young person is a third

of an old man. He lacks a sense of vitality, of
life. He might be physically agile, but if
someone has given up on themselves, if they
aren’t fighting to be independent and add their
unique voice to the world, they have reached
eis ziknah.
Late in his life, Rav Aharon Soloveitchik zt”l
had a massive stroke. He recovered but it was
very hard for him to walk. I will never forget
watching him make his way to the YU Beis
Medrash on his own two feet. He had a walker,
dragged one side of his body, and involuntarily
let out a load groan with each step he took.
It was hard, arduous, undoubtedly painful, but
Rav Aharon wanted so badly to walk into the
Beis Medrash on his own two feet. Two people
would walk with him holding him. He would
walk step by step, very slowly into the Beis
Medrash. When asked why he would not
accept help, he explained that he wanted to
walk on his own as much as possible to be
makayeim the beracha of hamaichin mitzadei
gaver, Hashem guides our steps.
When Rav Aharon passed away, at his levaya it
was described that when he would take each
step towards the Beis Medrash he would count
like the Kohain Gadol on Yom Kippur
sprinkling the blood in the Kodesh
HaKadashim: Achas. Achas V’Achas. Achas
V’shatyim.
In his broken state, in great pain, with
tremendous effort, he recognized that whatever
I am up to in life, that’s the most important step
in the world. That’s my personal Kodesh
Hakadashim. We have to see our next step, our
next moment, our next action as our holy of
holies, something so important, so meaningful
to the universe, the fulfillment of why we are
here. We cannot be Netzavim. Like Moshe at
the end of his life, like Rav Aharon at the end of
his life, we must be Vayeilech, keep moving,
keep taking the next step and then we are
young no matter how old the calendar says we
are.
One beracha. One tefilla. One shiur. One page
of Gemara. One Mishna. One demonstration
of Emunah and bitachon. One great parenting
moment or marriage moment of patience, love
and affection. One gesture of kindness. One
act of tzedakah. Al tashlicheinu, don’t cast me
to old age, I’m young and vibrant and ready to
go one step at a time, like the Kohen Gadol.
That is our avodah: achas, achas v’achas, one
step, one moment at a time.
The world didn’t need you until you were born.
That was Hashem’s decision. But now that you
are here, what will you do with it? Achas
v’achas, take it one step at a time.
Don’t wait for the world to recognize your
greatness. Unlock your potential, act like the
person you are meant to be, and people will
treat you like that person. More importantly,
you will see yourself, treat yourself and believe
in yourself as that person.