In recent days I may have shared with a few of you how much I appreciate the first coffee after Yom Kippur and several of you sent me very sweet notes on Friday morning hoping that I’m enjoying that coffee. Well, friends, I have something to share with you. My first coffee after Yom Kippur…actually my first two coffees after Yom Kippur…were consumed Thursday night!
And the caffeine was not the only reason I felt a buzz of energy and a spiritual high as Yom Kippur ended. You all davened with so much heart. This is a big space and you filled it with your song and your prayer and your yearning and your love and I am filled with so much gratitude to each of you for giving so much of your energy and passion to creating a Yom Kippur of such power that I truly felt like I received a gift in being able to daven alongside you.
One of the highlights of Yom Kippur tefilot, at least in this shul, is the rousing chorus of Mareh Kohen – led with such inspiring energy by the teens of the shul.
אֱמֶת מַה נֶּהְדָּר הָיָה כֹּהֵן גָּדוֹל בְּצֵאתוֹ מִבֵּית קָדְשֵׁי הַקֳּדָשִׁים בְּשָׁלוֹם בְּלִי פֶגַע:
How truly glorious was the Kohen Gadol as he left the Holy of Holies, peacefully, unharmed.
This poem comes at the culmination of the Seder Avodah, the poetic recapitulation of the High Priest’s service on Yom Kippur in which the Kohen Gadol, the holiest member of the Jewish community, selected from the Kohanim, entered the Kodesh HaKodashim holiest place on earth – the inner sanctum of the Beit Hamikdash at the heart of Yerushalim in the middle of Eretz Yisrael, on the holiest day of the year, Yom HaKippurim, the Sabbath of Sabbaths.
But that is not the moment that we celebrate. We do fall to our faces and bow as we reenact the three confessions of the Kohen Gadol, but we don’t break out into song at that point. The song comes at a later moment.
The Mishnah in tractate Yoma recounts the steps that the Kohen Gadol took, one after the other, as he prepared for the Yom Kippur service and as he faithfully carried it out. He immersed in a mikvah, he changed his clothing, he sacrificed the various animals as detailed in the Torah and applied their blood in all the places where it was supposed to be applied.
And then, in the Machzor’s poetic retelling we read:
תֹּאַר מְגַמָּתוֹ כְּצֵאת הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ בִּגְבוּרָה, תָּקַף וְדָץ וְעָטָה בִּגְדֵי הוֹנוֹ.
Which means:
The appearance of his face was like the brilliance of a sunrise. With great joy, he put on his own clothes.
In the Mishnah, this is stated a bit more prosaically:
הֵבִיאוּ לוֹ בִגְדֵי עַצְמוֹ, וְלָבַשׁ. וּמְלַוִּין אוֹתוֹ עַד בֵּיתוֹ. וְיוֹם טוֹב הָיָה עוֹשֶׂה לְאוֹהֲבָיו בְּשָׁעָה שֶׁיָּצָא בְשָׁלוֹם מִן הַקֹּדֶשׁ:
They then brought him his own clothing and he dressed, since the service was complete and Yom Kippur was over; and the people escorted him to his house. And the Kohen Gadol would make a feast for his loved ones and his friends when he emerged in peace from the Sanctuary.
And that is when we burst into song.
All of the beautiful and inspiring words about the kohen gadol, the high priest, were about the kohen gadol after Yom Kippur was over and he was already dressed in his street clothing.
כִּבְרָקִים הַיּוֹצְאִים מִזִּיו הַחַיּוֹת
As the glitter of light emanating from the brilliance of the Chayot (angels).
כִּדְמוּת הַקֶּשֶׁת בְּתוֹךְ הֶעָנָן.
As the rainbow in the clouds.
Each year at this time of the year I think of Professor Nechama Leibowitz’s quote that “in school they told us we need to be extra careful about our behavior between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. But in our home, my father said that it is even more important to behave in an exemplary way between Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah!”
The real challenge of religious life is for religious experiences to leave an imprint on those who experience them which is visible and demonstrable even after it is over. The kohen gadol can wear his own clothing and everyone knows what he has seen and where he has been. It’s visible on his rainbow face.
That more lofty and challenging goal is what we should strive for in the aftermath of Yom Kippur. Can we wear our regular clothing and still shine with the light of Yom Kippur? If we were transformed by the holidays that just passed, or if we hope to be transformed by the holidays that are coming in a few days, how will that transformation be seen by others? Can our very lives serve as testimony to the powerful things we experience together in this room?
In light of Parashat Ha’Azinu, I would like to humbly offer one suggestion:
The majority of the parsha of Ha’Azinu is written in the form of a poem or song. Last week’s parasha includes the final mitzvah of the Torah:
וְעַתָּ֗ה כִּתְב֤וּ לָכֶם֙ אֶת־הַשִּׁירָ֣ה הַזֹּ֔את וְלַמְּדָ֥הּ אֶת־בְּנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל שִׂימָ֣הּ בְּפִיהֶ֑ם לְמַ֨עַן תִּֽהְיֶה־לִּ֜י הַשִּׁירָ֥ה הַזֹּ֛את לְעֵ֖ד בִּבְנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃
Therefore, write down this shirah / song / poem and teach it to the people of Israel; put it in their mouths, in order that this poem may be My witness for the people of Israel.
As a mitzvah, the “song” refers to the entire Torah and the mitzvah to write a Torah or to take part in writing a Torah. And several weeks ago, at se’udah shlishit, we discussed several ways that the Torah is akin to a poem or to music. But on a level of peshat, the plain sense meaning of the verse, the song or poem that we are commanded to write is none other than Parashat Ha’Azinu. The song is a testimony to our relationship with God. And, in my experience, and I believe in the collective experience of this congregation, song can still have that capacity.
This room was designed to be filled by 400 or 500 people singing with all their hearts and souls. I’m so grateful that I was able to experience that over the Yamim Nora’im and I don’t want to wait until next year to have song remind me of our relationship with God. First of all, you don’t have to wait until Rosh Hashanah to come back to shul in force. If 500 of you show up for Sukkot, that would be awesome. In fact, if 500 of you show up tomorrow, we’ll move Shacharit into this room and we can sing some highlights of Pesukei d’Zimra. But also, even on days when the shul is only half full, we can sing twice as loud and fill the space. And shul is not the only place to sing. We have a simhat beit ha’sho’evah, Sukkot evening singing tisch, on the calendar for this coming Sukkot. And even a small Shabbat meal can be a setting for song that can be a testimony of our enduring relationship with God.
Of course not everyone enjoys poetry and not everyone enjoys singing. And not everyone enjoys every other person singing.
But if you were moved over Yom Kippur by a sense of the Divine presence, or by a hint of a better person that you know you could be, or by the power of this community to come together and create a moment of holiness and transcendence, don’t leave that feeling as a memory. Make sure you take those moments and build on them. Let them shine on your face like the radiance of the Kohen Gadol when he returned to his mundane life after Yom Kippur.
Rabbi David Wolkenfeld 