Can you think of anything more characteristic of Judaism than disagreements? From the Talmud to the guy stranded on the island who built two shuls, we acknowledge that there is more than one legitimate path to the truth. Somehow we manage to live with our differences. There are among us Democrats and Republicans, conservatives and liberals. We disagree on synagogue practice, abortion rights, war and other important issues. We disagree, yet we manage to remain one community. We disagree with loved ones and manage to remain a family.

If you get a group of baseball fans together you can be sure to have a lively debate if you bring up the subject of the Designated Hitter.

For those completely unclear on the topic, allow me to briefly explain. In traditional baseball, everyone in the game plays both offense and defense. That is to say, when one team is at bat, the other team puts a player at every position. Meanwhile the batting team has a spot for everyone of the position players.

Sounds simple enough.

In 1973, the American League, one of the two parts which make up Major League Baseball, adopted the Designated Hitter Rule. Under this rule, the pitcher doesn’t bat. And there is a batter who doesn’t play a position on defense.

And from there the debate begins. Those who support the Designated Hitter rule, argue that it makes the game more exciting. They say it is a waste to have pitchers bat, since they are virtually incapable of doing so.

The DH rule allows a good pitcher to stay in a close game, rather than be pulled for a pinch hitter. The DH rule enables an older or injured player to extend his career, if he has the capacity to hit, but not to play a position in the field. Because of the DH rule, long time pinch hitter Gates Brown finally had the chance to be a starter, and Al Kaline was able to play one final season and successfully reach his goal of 3000 career hits.

Opponents to the DH argue that baseball is just as exciting without it. Some add that pitchers would be more careful about not hitting batters if their own turn at bat could mean retaliation. A baseball team can win even with a weak hitter. Remember Ray Oyler in 1968? And even pitchers sometimes hit home runs, as Mickey Lolich showed us in the World Series that year.

Sorry, sports fans, this isn’t all going to be about baseball. There is a Jewish message here. And it’s not only that the first Designated Hitter was Jewish, Ron Blomberg of the New York Yankees.

First of all, baseball is always a religious subject, and I don’t mean because the Torah’s first words are “in the big inning.” Our recent Selichot guest speaker, Rabbi Alan Lew, explains that the first goal of baseball is “leaving home” and the ultimate goal of baseball is “returning home” once again. Sounds like the story of every patriarch and matriarch in our history, and it should be our story too.

The debate over the Designated Hitter is a debate about tradition vs. change, an ongoing discussion in the synagogue, the Conservative Movement, and the worldwide Jewish community, which we call klal Yisrael.

But there’s another issue at stake. Having a designated hitter, or having a designated anything, sends a message that someone is allowed to do get away with doing less than a complete job.

It happened in Israel that a fellow noticed two men working along the roadside. One man would dig a hole, two or three feet deep, and the other man was following, filling in each hole with dirt. Over and over again they continued, one digging, the other filling in.

The man watching questioned the workers. One of them offered this explanation. Normally there are three of us–I dig the hole, Yaakov sticks in the tree, and Moshe puts the dirt back. Now just because Yaakov's sick, that doesn't mean that Moshe and I shouldn’t work."

It seems that one person doing the entire job would be more effective, or relying on someone to do part of your job isn’t necessarily a good idea.

Like the pitcher who doesn’t have to bat, or the batter who doesn’t have to field, we sometimes allow, or even demand, others to fulfill what should be our own jobs.

I am proud and honored to be your rabbi, as I’m sure Cantor Berris is to be your Hazzan. We are your spiritual leaders, your teachers, your role models. Sometimes you have the tendency to think of us as your designated hitters.

At the ceremony marking the completion of my rabbinical studies, my classmate David Wolpe related a story about having his hair cut. The barber knew that David was about to become a rabbi. As the barber was tightening the sheet around his neck, he remarked: “I guess you’ll need to get used to tight collars in your line of work.”

One of the differences between a priest and Jewish clergy is that a priest is the link between the people and God, but in Judaism you need to find your own connection. Even when the Cantor leads us, we need to do our best to pray on our own, as well.

On Yom Kippur the relationship between Jewish clergy and congregants gets a little confusing when only the rabbi and cantor wear the white kitel and fall prostrate during the Avodah service. We are not your priests, and I invite you all to participate with us.

Rabbi Jerome Epstein, Executive Vice President of the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, in giving advice to congregations searching for new clergy, explains that congregants should not only ask questions of the candidate, but also of themselves. For example, Rabbi Epstein says, the synagogue members should not only seek a spiritual leader, but also seek in themselves a desire to be spiritually led.

Here’s another lesson I learned in Rabbinical School. I once held the position of Shammes at a shul near JTS. My number one responsibility was to open the building 30 minutes prior to the morning service to put the heat on. During this half hour, a young Ba’al Teshuvah Anesthesiologist, named Ricky, used to come to study, so I studied with him.

We struck up a friendship, and he invited me to join his family for dinner on a Friday night. Before we even began to eat, I learned they had a unique custom. Ricky directed everyone of his children, including one in kindergarten, to prepare and deliver a D’var Torah. Finally, it was time for kiddush. Ricky asked me, “Would you like to say your own kiddush, or do you want to be yotze on mine?” Translation–to be yotze, means I can fulfill my responsibility by listening to his kiddush and saying “amen.” I was a good student. I understood what he meant. I knew the halakha. So I answered with confidence, “I’ll be yotze on your kiddush.” And Ricky replied, “You’re kidding?” I knew the law, but he taught me that the DH rule wasn’t in effect in his house. I should have guessed it. He was a Mets fan.

It’s not that I expect you to able to do every berakhah and every mitzvah without a little help. But I do want you to recognize your responsibility in doing what you can by yourself, for yourself.

There was a rabbi who gave a sermon, complaining that so many of the congregants claimed to believe that synagogue attendance was important, but in reality they only attended on holidays and special occasions, and not weekly on Shabbat. Afterward, the rabbi remarked that it was the most effective sermon he ever preached–they stopped coming even on holidays and special occasions.

Fortunately, our synagogue’s strength and success is from members who do take weekly, and sometimes daily responsibility to be here and do what needs to be done, not wait for others to do it for them.

Two shul buddies were at the funeral of a third friend. As they passed his casket, one of them remarked, “Chaim, you don’t have to attend meetings anymore.” The other friend quickly interrupted, “Chaim, don’t listen to him. If you can come, come.”

There actually was an ancient Jewish designated hitter system. Two of the tribes of Israel were Zevulun and Yissachar, named for two of Jacob’s sons. According to Rashi’s comment on Moses’ blessings at the end of the Torah, Zevulun and Yissachar made an agreement. Zevulun would work and Yissachar would study. This partnership set the stage for many such relationships to follow.

It sounds good, but it really shouldn’t be our goal. The Pirke Avot counters the Zevulun-Yissachar relationship by stating that it is good to have both Torah study and a professional occupation. Both are sacred acts and we shouldn’t shirk either of these responsibilities.

We don’t need a Jewish Designated Hitter. There is a mistaken notion in our community about the recitation of kaddish in memory of a loved one. To set the record straight, the mourner’s kaddish is an obligation upon sons, and I would recommend it as well to daughters, for eleven months. It is the child’s obligation to do so. If another relative wishes to take upon him or herself the recitation of kaddish, that is an honorable thing to do, but it doesn’t remove the obligation from the child.

Many of you take this obligation seriously during your time of mourning. As with any of the mitzvot, you accept the whole responsibility, and do the best you can.

Families who wish to hire someone from a yeshiva to recite kaddish for their loved one are making a nice gift of tzedakah, but again don’t think that the hiring releases a child from his responsibility.

If you are thinking of hiring a kaddish, you can do so online at the Kaddish Institute. On the website you can find the following offers, and I’m not making this up:

Click here to choose from one or more of our many Kaddish services, equipped with an "add to cart" option, just like when shopping for anything else online:

You can choose: Kaddish for one year at $360. If you only want kaddish for the Sheloshim period, you subtract $250, however if you want the kaddish recited at the kotel once a month it will cost you an additional $60.

Now here's an interesting option. The standard kaddish price means someone will say kaddish on behalf of many people at the same time, including your loved one. But you can also purchase an exclusive kaddish sayer for $500, of course with the additional $60 for kaddish at the kotel once a month.

The kaddish institute also offers services for observing your yahrzeits, with options of one year, five years, ten years, or a perpetual observance for $282, of course $30 extra at the kotel.

Finally, it’s significant that Yom Kippur is followed so closely by Sukkot. We welcome everyone to come decorate the shul sukkah, to make kiddush and eat in the shul sukkah, to come to shul to use a shul owned lulav and etrog. But why settle for second best. The mitzvah of Sukkot is to build your own Sukkah, and most certainly, to acquire your own lulav and etrog.

There’s still time. Between the local Jewish bookstores and the wonder of the internet, it’s not too late tomorrow to find yourself a modest sukkah kit and a decent looking lulav and etrog. Learn one message from this Yom Kippur and this Yizkor service–take responsibility. Do it yourself.

The Cantor and I don’t need to be your designated hitters. No one needs to be. But we can be your coaches. And you will have the satisfaction of doing the best you can.

That’s why you are grateful for your loved ones; not because they were perfect, but because they did the best that they could. That’s what you can hope for in yourself, and to be remembered that way by your families when your time comes.