Between Rosh Hashana and the end of Yom Kippur, Jewish tradition teaches that the books of life and death are open, and all are judged for the coming year.
Righteous. Wicked. Somewhere in between.
The concept of a book for those in between – neither fully righteous nor wicked – suggests a dynamic state.
The margins feel razor thin; in between means balancing on a knife edge, and just the slightest whisp would tip the scale.
Most of us strive to be good most of the time, and it’s all relative, after all, so who could ever be in between?
When we compare ourselves to others, it seems inevitable that someone will always appear better or worse.
I’m far better than that awful piece of work I spent months dealing with; I helped an orphan get married this year.
So who is in between?
In our sages’ estimation, the true measure of a person is not based on comparison to others but on who they were yesterday and who they are striving to become today. Who is wise? One who learns from everyone, or in other words, openness to growth and learning. We are called to judge ourselves not based on others’ standards but on our own personal growth.
Our sages teach that in fact, every last one of us must view ourselves as in between, that our own merits are balanced perfectly in between, and the world’s merit as well – צָרִיךְ כָּל אָדָם שֶׁיִּרְאֶה עַצְמוֹ כָּל הַשָּׁנָה כֻּלָּהּ כְּאִלּוּ חֶצְיוֹ זַכַּאי וְחֶצְיוֹ חַיָּב. וְכֵן כָּל הָעוֹלָם חֶצְיוֹ זַכַּאי וְחֶצְיוֹ חַיָּב.
R’ Shlomo Farhi explains that there must be a book of in-betweeners, and we must see ourselves as in that category, or else nothing we do matters. Acting as if every action matters is the only way any action can matter. Being an in-betweener means constantly balancing our deeds on the fine line between righteousness and imperfection, always striving but never fully there, giving weight and importance to every single choice and action.
And perhaps there is a profound truth behind this.
Far beyond balancing merits and sins, the broader human experience is always in a state of becoming. We are all in between, not in comparison to each other, but compared to ourselves.
In between where we have come from and where we are going.
Our efforts and contributions are not measured against universal standards or in comparison to others but are evaluated based on our personal capacities and circumstances. Just as an overweight asthmatic isn’t expected to match an Olympic runner, we’re measured against our personal circumstances; we are not expected to replicate the exact deeds of our hallowed ancestors. Instead, our objective is to strive towards our version of perfection and do the utmost within our abilities and circumstances. There is deep kindness in this process, recognizing our efforts as complete and worthy, and seeing perfection in our earnest attempts.
You must give 100% of what you can, just as everyone else is tasked with doing their best. In every single context, however close or far, and no matter who else is involved, you are always as far as everyone else, whether one step or two miles.
So it follows that what we do matters, voting with our actions on the people we are still becoming.
Being in between, it only follows that we cannot judge ourselves so harshly. On Rosh Hashana, it is the ideal time to take stock, thinking about the year that has passed and the year that lies ahead of us. We often torment ourselves with thoughts that we should be further along in life or haven’t accomplished enough. By now, we were supposed to have finished that project, done that deal, passed that test, settled down, bought a house, had a kid, learned more, or what have you.
In moments of doubt, it helps to remember one of the most powerful blessings we recite daily, including on Rosh Hashana.
The Creator has prepared our footsteps – הַמֵּכִין מִצְעֲדֵי גָּבֶר.
Being in between is a good place to be, the right place to be, and where we are supposed to be: in between and on the way. The Creator has prepared your footsteps up to this moment, each step, including the missteps and those that seem uncertain, and will prepare your footsteps with a divine purpose far beyond the horizons you are currently able to foresee – הַמֵּכִין מִצְעֲדֵי גָּבֶר.
Not late or early, but right on time and exactly where you are meant to be. We should not judge ourselves so harshly.
All is at it should be in this moment, you are not behind schedule, and everyone is running their own race, quite literally. We might be in the crowd together, but whose point of departure and destination are identical? Where you have come from and where you are going are utterly unique; there can be no valid comparison between you and anyone who ever lived. Our sages taught us not to judge our fellow until we have reached his place.
And since everyone else is also in-between and on their own unique path, we can never reach their place, so we should avoid judging others altogether. But when judgment is unavoidable, it should be with compassion and the benefit of the doubt. Without resorting to mental gymnastics, it simply means seeing something favorable, anything, something worthwhile they can build from.
One of Rosh Hashana’s central features is accepting God as our King, and all power and outcomes follow from that authority. Part of accepting God as the King is practicing acceptance of the realities that flow from that authority, the circumstances and paths of our lives, and also the lives of others.
There are no valid comparisons. We cannot compare people’s spiritual successes or material successes. Success looks different and is different to everyone, by our own standards and by the Creator’s.
You can only judge yourself and measure against your own progress and your potential.
It’s no good to feel satisfied with whatever accomplishment and then stay still. Today is better than yesterday; tomorrow will be better than today. One day at a time.
Much like a marathon, life is a test of endurance, not a sprint. Runners talk about running your race, which means ignoring all the other runners. Running your race means executing your plan and doing your work, not someone else’s. There is no place for envy, spite, ego, or greed to derail you or cause you to chase a phantom ideal that was never meant for you.
On the journey of our spirit, it doesn’t matter how far others have or have not gone; we are each on our own unique path. Late bloomers still bloom.
Focus on yourself and your own performance and progress, your growth and not someone else’s, knowing that your unique path is yours alone.
We are all in between and all on our way.
Run your race.