Rabbi Susan Landau

Yom Kippur morning, 5777

Tocho K’varo: Our Insides Covered in Gold

“One down and two across, there she was again, a lone woman in the window,
pressed close to the glass. For several days, she had been there on and off,
standing in front of the window, on crutches, as if wanting to be seen. Inside her
own apartment, Nina stopped to watch. She was disturbed by the young
woman’s presence, proprietary on behalf of the middle-aged couple whom she’d
come to expect in that window, reading contentedly on their couch.” (1)

This is the opening of Tova Mirvis’s novel, Visible City. This window-
peeping is not just a one-time thing for the protagonist, Nina; it is her perpetual
habit. And have we not all peaked harmlessly into someone else’s window?
When it is dark outside, and the lights are on, a glimpse into someone else’s world
is enticing. Certain secrets are revealed.

A few sentences later we learn that “She [Nina] and [her husband] Jeremy
had lived in this Upper West Side apartment for five years but still hadn’t gotten
around to buying shades. Even though she looked into other people’s windows,
she’d convinced herself that no one was, in turn, watching them.” (ibid.) Like
being on the outside and looking into someone's windows, it is easy to assume
that we know the contents of another's heart. But in reality, that innermost
territory is only known to the self-- and even then, only if we truly make an effort
to come face to face with it. It is easy enough to look through other people’s
windows, but what would happen if we looked into our own? Our tradition
values a person who is the same on the inside and the outside.

We believe that this type of authenticity is possible because our insides can
be gold. And we get this notion from one of our most central symbols, the Torah,
and the aron kodesh, the sacred container in which it is kept.

When our ancestors first built the aron, the ark that holds the
commandments, they were instructed to cover it with gold on the outside, and on
the inside. (Ex 25:11) Surely, a vessel that is meant to house the Ten

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Yom Kippur morning, 5777

Commandments should be decorated extensively. But covering it with gold on

the inside as well? This seems like a waste of gold.

No, no, our commentators say: it is not a waste; it is a lesson. The Torah is
our way of life, and so its treatment is meant to be an example of how we are to
live. Our teacher, Abaye, offers this example in the Talmud: He says that the ark
is covered with gold on the inside and the outside, because it is like one who
studies Torah, and a Torah scholar whose inside is not like his outside is no
scholar at all. (Yoma 72b) Why does the inside have to match the outside?
Because Torah is studied so it will lead to action. Even if we master and memorize
all the laws and ethics it contains, if the Torah does not change us for the better,
then we have learned nothing.

As Jews, we are all lifelong scholars of Torah and students of its ways. Our
insides-- our thoughts, the contents of our hearts, must match our outsides-- our
presence in the world, the way we lead by example, our reputations. Rabban
Gamliel excludes from the House of Study, all supposed scholars who do not live
up to the standard of “tocho k’varo.” (Brachot 28a) When a person’s inside does
not match his or her outside that person is living life like Nina, forgetting that
they, too, have windows. Our internal lives, says the Torah, matter.

Tocho k’varo is about integrity. What you see on the outside is what you
get on the inside. A person whose word is worth something has integrity.
Integrity is honesty, trustworthiness, morality, and ethics. All of these qualities
have deep roots within a person, their merit radiating out from a point within. In
fact, the root of the word integrity comes from the Latin, integer, meaning whole
or complete. Integrity is a result of a person whose inside and outside cohere into
one fluid identity. And on these High Holy Days, we strive to be whole.

These Days are a chance to check in with ourselves and evaluate who we
are and what we show the world. Do our innermost concerns and desires reflect
the put-together version of ourselves we curate on the outside? Do we live our
values? How can we strive for more integrity and integration in our lives in this
new year? What would the world see in a glance through our windows?

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Yom Kippur morning, 5777

Tocho k’varo, matching our insides to our outsides, reminds us that this
process doesn’t mean starting from scratch: we have gold on the inside, too. The
work of doing t’shuvah, of returning to our best selves, is the process of
hammering out the bad parts of ourselves; cleaning off the smudges of mistakes
and missteps that cloud our windows, and prevent our inner gold from shining
through. Tocho k’varo is an aspiration to embody our authentic selves.

We work nearly full-time trying to put our best faces forward, and it is a
complex process. In contrast, the advice to simply “be yourself,” seems much
more simple, and those instructions might even appear to have more integrity.
“Be Yourself.” It doesn’t get much more authentic than that. But earlier this year
the New York Times ran a piece called “Unless You’re Oprah, ‘Be Yourself’ Is
Terrible Advice.” In it, Adam Grant, a professor of management and psychology
at the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania, writes that

“We are in the Age of Authenticity, where ‘be yourself’ is the defining
advice in life, love and career. Authenticity means erasing the gap
between what you firmly believe inside and what you reveal to the
outside world. …a research professor [at the University of Houston],
defines…authenticity [as] ‘the choice to let our true selves be seen.’”

So how do we let our true selves be seen? The article suggests that we all
engage in a process called “self-monitoring.” High self-monitors “scan their
environment for social cues and adjust [their behavior] accordingly…” And “Low
self-monitors criticize high self-monitors as chameleons and phonies.”

To varying degrees, we all monitor ourselves. And we all know that our
aspiration of tocho k’varo, of our insides matching our outsides, is not as easy as
just “being ourselves.” Rather, it requires hard work to achieve real integrity, to
integrate the inner and outer parts of ourselves in a way that feels authentic. A
little self-monitoring makes it possible for us to cultivate our internal values, and
choose which parts of our best selves to expose to the world. It is part of how we
make the gold on the insides and outsides of our arks match.

But what happens when this task seems too tall? When we look within
ourselves and are not sure there is gold to be found? Rosh Hashanah and Yom
Kippur let us glimpse our lives from the inside and the outside. We have time,

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now, to examine ourselves and see whether our insides and outsides really do
match.

First, Rosh Hashanah gives us the chance to look within and reflect, but also
to remember that we are not doing this within a vacuum. The arc of Jewish time
eases us into this reflection, couching our individual contemplation within the
scope of the world.

On Rosh Hashanah we recall the renewal of creation—the creation of the

world, and our opportunity to recreate ourselves. While we were not made to be
perfect beings of infallible goodness, God breathed a pure soul into each and
every one of us. Elohai, n’shamah, we sing each morning: God, I know that the
soul you have given me is pure. We possess Divine breath within us, pure from
the start. Surely, if we dig deep enough, we can find it again. This struggle is
continuous, but we do not lose hope.

Each time we return the Torah to the ark we long for a time when it was
easier to let the light of our souls shine through. We imagine that there was a
time when things were simpler, more pure. When the sacredness was more
apparent, more abundant, less contaminated. We beseech God to chadeish
yameinu k’kedem; renew our days as at the beginning, give us another taste of
the innocence we once radiated before we forgot how.

If we remember the gold on the inside, then we will have the strength to
face Yom Kippur, the day that asks us if we have enacted all of the things that
Rosh Hashanah revealed.

On Yom Kippur we strengthen our resolve to aim once again for tocho
k’varo, that lofty ideal of having our inner selves match the personas we so
carefully show the world. Can we be like the ark that our ancestors carried
through the wilderness? Are we resolute enough to realize that we are our own
arks, holding the most sacred parts of ourselves?

What would someone see if they happened to let their eyes linger at your
window? The Talmud teaches that one should always pray in a place with
windows. (Berachot 34b) There are many possible explanations for this
statement. Perhaps one is that windows are sites of aspiration. When we look

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through them we see things that exist behind a solid wall, we glimpse what is just
beyond reach.

On this holy day let us be mindful of the windows in our lives-- from which
we can see out and others can see in-- so that we may be proud of what we show
the world. We can feel good about what the world would see through our
windows, because we know that our insides are gold. May this be a year of
authenticity for all of us, when we find our inner gold, and let it shine through.