During a flood, an old woman was sitting on her porch. A sheriff’s deputy drove up in a pickup truck and told her she needed to come with him, they were evacuating.
“The Lord will provide,” she responded and waved him off, despite his begging her to reconsider.
A few hours later, the woman had been forced to retreat to her second story bedroom. Water was rising up the stairs when another deputy, this time in a boat, pulled up alongside her window. “Get in, ma’am! It’s just getting worse! You can’t stay here.”
“Blasphemy! The woman replied. “The Lord will provide. I don’t need your help.”
The deputy tried his best, but to no avail.
The woman soon found herself clinging to the chimney of her house, water swirling all around her. Then a helicopter swooped down. Calling out to her with a bullhorn was yet another deputy. “Grab the ladder, we’re here to save you!”
“Never!” cried the woman. “I do not need your help! The lord will provide!”
And as the deputy pleaded with her, a wave came and dragged her away. And she drowned in the flood.
Now, the woman found herself standing before the throne of Judgement, and God’s glory was all around her. “What was that? Asked the woman. “How could you let me drown! I lived my whole life professing faith that ‘the Lord will provide’.
“Lady,” said the divine voice. “I provided a truck. I provided a boat. I provided a helicopter. What the heck were you waiting for?”
These are things we associate with the Jewish High Holidays: sounds and tastes and memories; the cry of the Shofar-horn, Apples and Challah dipped in honey; perhaps throwing bread into rivers or ponds or gullies; Wondering why we threw that perfectly good bread away during the discomfort of fasting on Yom Kippur; Wondering whether or not the rabbi knows he’s torturing us by saying “in conclusion” twenty minutes before he or she concludes.
In conclusion, then…
There are the familiar prayers and melodies we rencounter this time each year; not least of which is the Kol Nidre on the eve of Yom Kippur. And there is “Avinu Malkeinu”, the Anthem of the penitent; as well as the familiar stories of the Torah and prophets we read and study this time each year; Of Isaac on the mountain, Jonah in the fishes belly; Hannah praying for a child.
Then there are the readings, meditations and poems that were added over millenia; transforming what had been a sacrificial rite in the Jerusalem Temple into the pre-eminent worship experience of a Jewish people in exile; the product of generations of refugees, survivors and wanderers.
The Unetaneh Tokef, a prayer-poem written down by a man named Meshullam Ben Kalonymos is one such poem. It is, arguably, the best known and most representative piece of liturgy we have next to Kol Nidrei.
Even if you do not recognize the Unetaneh Tokef by name, you will recognize its content; and in a few minutes, I trust you will better understand its meaning and its relevance to our lives.
The Unetaneh Tokef describes in detail what happens on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur; and how each of us is given a destiny based on the Judgement we receive. It is a stark and often grim litany:
We shall ascribe holiness to this day.
For it is awesome and terrible.
Your kingship is exalted upon it.
Your throne is established in mercy.
You are enthroned upon it in truth.
In truth You are the judge,
The exhorter, the all?knowing, the witness,
He who inscribes and seals,
Remembering all that is forgotten.
You open the book of remembrance
Which proclaims itself,
And the seal of each person is there.
The great shofar is sounded,
A still small voice is heard.
The angels are dismayed,
They are seized by fear and trembling
As they proclaim: Behold the Day of Judgment!
For all the hosts of heaven are brought for judgment.
They shall not be guiltless in Your eyes
And all creatures shall parade before You as a troop.
As a shepherd herds his flock,
Causing his sheep to pass beneath his staff,
So do You cause to pass, count, and record,
Visiting the souls of all living,
Decreeing the length of their days,
Inscribing their judgment.
On Rosh Hashanah it is inscribed,
And on Yom Kippur it is sealed.
How many shall pass away and how many shall be born,
Who shall live and who shall die,
Who shall reach the end of his days and who shall not,
Who shall perish by water and who by fire,
Who by sword and who by wild beast,
Who by famine and who by thirst,
Who by earthquake and who by plague,
Who by strangulation and who by stoning,
Who shall have rest and who shall wander,
Who shall be at peace and who shall be pursued,
Who shall be at rest and who shall be tormented,
Who shall be exalted and who shall be brought low,
Who shall become rich and who shall be impoverished.
Now there’s more to the Unetaneh Tokef, but if you’re like me, you kind of get stuck after “Who by water and who by fire, who by strangulation and who by stoning”
Let’s be honest. Unless you’re really into liturgy and medieval literature, I don’t know how closely you’re paying attention during services. But when you hear the Unetaneh Tokef, a lot of people have a ‘wait, WHAT?” moment.
Unless you are the well known and respected songwriter, Leonard Cohen, in which case you say to yourself, “Hey, that’s kind of catchy.” and make a really cool song out of it.
And who by fire?
Who by water?
Who in the sunshine?
Who in the night time?
Who by high ordeal?
Who by common trial?
Who in your merry merry month of May?
Who by very slow decay?
And who shall I say is calling?
And who in her lonely slip?
Who by barbiturate?
Who in these realms of love?
Who by something blunt?
Who by avalanche?
Who by powder?
Who for his greed?
Who for his hunger?
And who shall I say is calling?
And who by brave assent?
Who by accident?
Who in solitude?
Who in this mirror?
Who by his lady’s command?
Who by his own hand?
Who in mortal chains?
Who in power?
And who shall I say is calling?
Indeed, there is a good reason Mr. Cohen seized upon that particular section of the poem for inspiration. It is undeniably the most striking.
It speaks to our hearts not just at this moment, on the eve of these holy days but each and every day, when we wonder ‘what if?’
This is a poem of insecure people; vocalizing their fear and expressing the hope, if not belief, that there was someone in control of what seems uncontrollable.
Floods, wildfires, earthquakes, plagues, famines, droughts, wild animals. What control is there? Who can control it if not God?
And as frightening and powerful as nature can be, people are far worse. The violence and cruelty we visit upon each other makes earthquakes and droughts pale in comparison.
The Unetaneh Tokef was written in the shadow of the first Crusade. The author of the text died a martyr in 1096. He was not a victim of fire or water or plague, but of his fellow human beings. He died by his own hand, rather than face capture, humiliation and death by torture.
Did God decree that this happen? Of course not, and the Unetaneh Tokef itself explains why. It just gets lost sometimes because the first part of the poem is so dramatic.
Following the list of terrible ways we might end up this coming year, and a list of good outcomes and bad outcomes, like being rich or poor, healthy or sick, we come to the bottom line.
Repentance, prayer and righteousness avert the severe decree.
God might, in fact, if we go with the premise, decide whether we are going to live or die, be troubled or secure, be happy or miserable.
At the same time we are able to alter what God writes down for us with our own actions in three specific areas. So our destiny is our destiny only if we choose to make it our destiny.
I want that to sink in because I don’t think we do a good enough job of explaining that. As a faith community, people might think that we propose God makes the decisions and micromanages every aspect of all of our lives.
What we’re reading here, today, is that even if that is true, it doesn’t matter because when we engage in these three activities, it alters whatever has been decided. Within the realm of free-will, we are given control. You and me.
Just like the woman in the story I began with today, we are given choices and opportunities even in the midst of situations beyond our control. The woman could not control the flood, but she could have recognized the role human beings play in the world and recognized the people in the truck or the boat or the helicopter as what they were; extensions of God acting out of Rigthteousness, answering her prayer.
Now I want to talk to you a little bit about what I’d like to do this year with these High Holiday messages. I want to take these three principles, Repentance, Prayer, and Righteousness and discuss them each, looking at them for what they are in the context of the High Holidays, but also as a prescription of sorts for better living. As three sides to a fuller, more meaningful, more powerful life.
You see, the Unetaneh Tokef seems to be about all the ways to die, when in fact it’s quite the contrary. It’s about how to live. And more so, it’s about how to live fully aware that you are both mortal and part of something eternal. Judaism is a religion of life and living. The purpose is to enable us to live fully and happily! Really! That’s really the point. It is, I promise. I believe we will find that repentance prayer and righteousness offer paths to fulfillment and joy. That we’ve been given a wonderful gift that is just waiting to be explored and utilized.
I have a lot of conversations with people about what happens after we die. Whether they are facing serious illness, an aging parent or or the death of a loved one, these conversations and questions are normal, understandable and important.
Yet recently I had a conversation I don’t often have. This conversation dealt with the question “What if I live?” And I find that a far more interesting and important question. And I think that you will find that the principles of Teshuvah, Tefilah and Tzedakah speak volumes towards answering that question.
At Rosh Hashana we stand at the beginning of a new year. A clean slate, if we will wipe it clean. A chance to redeem ourselves if we wish to be redeemed. A chance to be forgiven, if we are willing to forgive. A chance to reconnect with God if we want to have a relationship with God. A chance to make the world better, if we don’t want to give up on the world. And I’m not ready or willing to give up yet.
On Rosh Hashanah it is inscribed,
And on Yom Kippur it is sealed.
How many shall pass away and how many shall be born,
Who shall live and who shall die
And how we live, and how we live, let us decide, to bring honor to Your name, O God.
