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livWay back in January I promised lethargic_man that I'd talk about which bits of the High Holy Day liturgy make me cry, and I didn't get round to it at all. And now the festival season has come round again and my head is in the machzor, the special prayer book for this time of year. So I might as well finally answer that question from months back!
The main section I'm thinking of is the introduction to the ritual confession. It's almost obvious to be moved by this, but there's one of those collections of Biblical verses arranged as a poem, and one actual piyut or "hymn" that always get me. שמע קולנו which asks God to hear our prayers, and includes
And the poem, כי אנו עמך, which is basically a list of metaphors for our relationship with God. Specifically,
I suppose similarly, in the sayings of Remembrance in the Rosh haShana additional service, the verse from Jeremiah:
The opening to the Yom Kippur additional service, the prayer of the representative of the congregation. It's quite often a cantorial set piece, because obviously you're going to pick the most brilliant singer and scholar to lead the most solemn section of the most solemn service of the year. Except for me it's not false modesty at all:
The service in remembrance of the martyrs. This is partly because I'm Reform by background, and it's a much bigger deal in our liturgy than the Orthodox version. Lines from the long prose poem describing the ten martyrs אלה אזכרה:
Partly because of that connection, I can get really caught up in אבינו מלכנו, especially the last bit where we ask God to act for the sake of the martyrs:
Also stuff I miss from the Reform liturgy that either isn't in the Orthodox liturgy (I think maybe it comes from services of poetry asking for forgiveness during the month leading up to YK, rather than the day itself), or is so unprominent that it basically gets skimmed over. אנשי אמונה אבדו, in R' Magonet's magnificent translation:
And Ibn Gabirol's Crown of glory, which is full of quotes or allusions from the liturgy woven together into a really personal poem, every year I'm not at home for YK I miss it terribly:
Also this year I'm going to preach on the Haftarah, the reading from the Prophets, Isaiah 57–58. Partly inspired by this really excellent sermon by a Christian friend of mine, in fact.
And now I should really go and finish learning the liturgy, instead of sitting here crying over the poetic bits.
lethargic_man that I'd talk about which bits of the High Holy Day liturgy make me cry, and I didn't get round to it at all. And now the festival season has come round again and my head is in the machzor, the special prayer book for this time of year. So I might as well finally answer that question from months back!The main section I'm thinking of is the introduction to the ritual confession. It's almost obvious to be moved by this, but there's one of those collections of Biblical verses arranged as a poem, and one actual piyut or "hymn" that always get me. שמע קולנו which asks God to hear our prayers, and includes
Do not cast us out when we become old,I mean, it's such an obvious tearjerker that it's a running joke that cantors mark up their prayer books 'choke up here'. Even so, there's the image of vulnerability, and it's easy enough to feel vulnerable when you're a good way through a long fast. Also, in thinking about Divine qualities as ethical examples that we should imitate, I strongly feel that we as a society are pretty bad at protecting the old and weak. My mind goes to people I've known who ended their lives alone and in pain.
When our strength fades, do not abandon us
And the poem, כי אנו עמך, which is basically a list of metaphors for our relationship with God. Specifically,
We are Your friend, and You are our belovedBecause friendship is such a great blessing in my life. The use of friendship metaphors for God in among the much more grand metaphors like servant / lord, work / creator, people / king conveys a hope that deep affection, even friendship, could be part of our ideal relationship with God, even though God is beyond description, let alone that sort of interpersonal connection. And yeah, it's full of references to Song of Songs, which is a very extended metaphor of God as beloved, and that also has a lot of resonances for me. Also
We are Your treasure, and You are our kin
We speak of Your being, and You speak of our beingI don't really know what that means, but I have tended to interpret it as nodding to the somewhat radical theology that to some extent we "make God in our image".
I suppose similarly, in the sayings of Remembrance in the Rosh haShana additional service, the verse from Jeremiah:
I will remember for you the devotion of your youth, the love of your bridal days, when you followed after me into the wilderness, the land unsown.
The opening to the Yom Kippur additional service, the prayer of the representative of the congregation. It's quite often a cantorial set piece, because obviously you're going to pick the most brilliant singer and scholar to lead the most solemn section of the most solemn service of the year. Except for me it's not false modesty at all:
I have come to plead before You on behalf of Your people Israel, who have made me messenger though I am not deserving nor qualified for the task.I'm really not, I'm not particularly pious, I'm not particularly knowledgeable, I'm totally unmusical, I end up leading the YK musaf because, well, I have a reasonably pretty reading voice and I'm willing to volunteer, and because my poor community really don't have a lot of options.
The service in remembrance of the martyrs. This is partly because I'm Reform by background, and it's a much bigger deal in our liturgy than the Orthodox version. Lines from the long prose poem describing the ten martyrs אלה אזכרה:
These I will remember, and I will pour out my soul within meAlso the actual descriptions, R' Akiva flayed alive and rejoicing in the opportunity to obey the commandment to love God
How the arrogant have devoured us, like a cake, greedily...
This happened to us, let us recount it in bitterness
And let us pour out our hearts, weighed down with grief
with all your soul, even when God takes your soul from you. And Chutzpit the interpreter, who lived by words and whose tongue was torn out. The Reform liturgy connects this explicitly to others who have died as martyrs throughout history, during the Crusades (and I've heard enough sermons from Dr Sapir Abulafia with details of what some of them went through, and looked at some of the poetry from that era which makes the connection to this bit of the liturgy and to the Roman martyrs), and in the Inquisition, and people like Hannah Senesh and Janusz Korczak who voluntarily chose death to protect others during the Holocaust.
Partly because of that connection, I can get really caught up in אבינו מלכנו, especially the last bit where we ask God to act for the sake of the martyrs:
Our father, our king, have pity on us, on our little ones and our infantsAnd partly because the tune for the final chorus is so almost-catchy (yet melancholy), and it's the one thing everybody in my unmusical community knows, and thankfully they have the same tune I grew up with. (The arrangement at the link is kind of horrible but it is at least the tune I'm talking about, the chorus starts from about 3'30''.) So everybody joins in and sings together, even if they don't know Hebrew very well or find most of the liturgy confusing:
Our father, our king, act for the sake of those slain for the sake of Your holy name
Our father, our king, act for the sake of those who went through fire and water to sanctify your name
Our father, our king, be gracious to us and answer us, for we have no good deeds. Act with justice and with kindness, and save usYes, that does come right at the end so it means that in a few minutes I can collapse and put down the weight of the community's hopes, so I think that's part of why I find it moving.
Also stuff I miss from the Reform liturgy that either isn't in the Orthodox liturgy (I think maybe it comes from services of poetry asking for forgiveness during the month leading up to YK, rather than the day itself), or is so unprominent that it basically gets skimmed over. אנשי אמונה אבדו, in R' Magonet's magnificent translation:
Those we could trust have passed away
Whose power came from their own good deeds.
They had the strength to stand up to evil
Protecting others from its consequences.
Their example is still our defence and our shelter...
Those who could face evil, who had the strength
To seek You, are dead and gone.
We wander all over the world
But who can fill their place?
And Ibn Gabirol's Crown of glory, which is full of quotes or allusions from the liturgy woven together into a really personal poem, every year I'm not at home for YK I miss it terribly:
My God, I am too ashamed and I am too confused to stand in Your presence, for I know
That Your greatness extends as far as the depth of my frailness and my weakness,
And that You are as perfect as I am lacking.
For You are one. And You are life, and You are great, and You are eternal,
And I am a clod and a worm, dust from the earth,
A cup full of shame, a passing shadow, a breeze that passes and never returns
Also this year I'm going to preach on the Haftarah, the reading from the Prophets, Isaiah 57–58. Partly inspired by this really excellent sermon by a Christian friend of mine, in fact.
And now I should really go and finish learning the liturgy, instead of sitting here crying over the poetic bits.
