|
I turn on the TV, and there’s a
Beatle’s movie on. A Swami and High Priestess are about to sacrifice a woman
to the goddess Kali. But the victim doesn’t have the special ring that is
required for the sacrifice. It turns out that she is a fan of the Beatles, and
sent it to the Fab Four; Ringo is now wearing it on his finger. If
Ringo doesn’t return the ring, he will have to be sacrificed. One small
problem: The ring is stuck, and he can’t get it off.
Mayhem ensues as Ringo is chased
all over London not only by the Swami, the High Priestess and their thugs, but
also by a Mad Scientist who also wants the ring. The action moves to the Alps,
and then to the Bahamas, as Ringo and the boys try to avoid being sacrificed.
As they are running for their lives,
we hear the movie’s theme song:
Help! I need Somebody
Help! Not just Anybody
Help! You Know I need someone
Help!!!
I find out that the song was
written not to capture Ringo’s manic role in the film, but to express John’s
depression in trying to deal with the band’s spectacular success after years of
obscurity in Liverpool and Hamburg. Though on the outside, the Beatles
projected coolness and confidence, on the inside, John Lennon was in crisis.
He told an interviewer: “I was crying out for ‘Help’!” Lennon had built a
protective shell around his fragile emotions, and the song ‘Help’, written
early in 1965, was a first crack in that shell, and a glimpse into Lennon’s
psyche at the time. Because it was so personal and honest, he considered it
one of his favorite songs, though he wished it had been recorded at a slower
tempo.
“And now my life has changed in oh so many ways
My independence seems to vanish in the haze
But every now and then, I feel so insecure
I know that I, just need you like, I’ve never done before.”
In the olden days, when I wanted
the lyrics to a song, I had to sit with a tape recorder and a cassette, pushing
the PAUSE button after each line, jotting down the words, and then pushing the
PLAY button again. Today of course, you simply GOOGLE: “Lyrics” “Help!” and in
less than a second it’s all there on the computer screen. As I read the words
over and over, divorced from the music, it suddenly struck me: This is an
incredible prayer, that could very well be in a Siddur. It’s a simple,
honest plea for assistance, and if you capitalize the letter “Y” in the word
“You” the plea is directed not to the author’s girlfriend, or best pal – but to
God:
When I was younger, so much younger than today
I never needed anybody’s help in any way,
But now these days are gone, I’m not so self-assured
Now I find, I’ve changed my mind, I’ve opened up the door
Help me if You can I’m feeling down
And I do appreciate You being ‘round
Help me get my feet back on the ground
Won’t You please, please help me!
Most songs work on these
same three levels. There are times I get into the car and without even
thinking I turn on the radio. I want something to counter the quiet so that I
don’t feel lonely. I don’t pay much attention to the melody, or to the words.
It’s basically background music, and it fills the void. The most I can say
about the song is the mood it creates. “It’s a very soft and slow classical
piece” or “a Sinatra torch song”, or “Elvis - Rock and Roll”, or “loud and
angry hip-hop”.
On this level of the song, I see
Ringo running down a London street and I hear the Beatles shouting “Help!”
There are other times, though, when
it’s not just background noise. The song is front and center. I’m paying
attention to the music – the melody, the harmony, the rhythm. And I’m focused
on the words. I read the lyrics as if they were poetry. And even if I don’t
know anything about the author, I’ve got a pretty good idea what he was
feeling, what she was trying to express. I identify with the writer and I walk
in his shoes, I live her life.
On this level of the song, I see
John, perhaps the most famous, idolized man in the whole world, sitting all
alone in his room, desperately crying out for help.
And finally, there are times when
we take a song and deconstruct it. We take it out of its show-business
context, we strip away the history of its creation and the biography of its
creator, and we appropriate it to our own needs. In doing so, we become a
collaborator with the original artist, as we recreate the words into something
entirely new.
On this level of the song, I see
myself on Rosh HaShanah dealing with medical issues, or with financial
concerns, or with work-related challenges, praying to God for divine guidance…
and help.
What’s true of popular songs, also
applies to sacred texts, as well.
Take, for example, the Haftara for
the first day of Rosh Hashanah. We read from the First Book of Samuel,
Chapters One and Two.
On the first level, the chanting of
the Haftara is background music. It’s done at the time when half of the
congregation is wandering in, finding their seats, looking around to see who is
here, what they’re wearing. People are checking their watches, looking at the
tickets, figuring out what they’ve missed, and what’s coming up next. Not many
people are paying attention to what’s actually being read, or to what it really
means. Then, the words from the Prophet are finished, and the blessings are
sung. I look out and see that a number of teenagers are actually singing along
with these blessings in Hebrew. They, of course, have no clue what these words
mean, but they remind them of their Bar and Bat Mitzvahs, when they were
up there, singing those same words.
On the second level, we look at the
story of the first two chapters of the Book of Shmuel. As we read a little
more carefully, we discover that they were composed as part of the biography of
one of our great leaders, Samuel, the last of the biblical Judges, the first of
the Israelite prophets. We are told about his parents, the events surrounding
his birth, we are introduced to the man who would become his mentor, and we
learn about the great mission of his life.
Now this is all very interesting,
but what does it have to do with Rosh Hashanah? And it’s here we come
to the third level. Some two thousand years ago, the Rabbis decided that these
chapters should be read every year, on the first day of the New Year. Those
Rabbis weren’t so much interested in the biography of Samuel, as they were in
the themes they read into the story: Someone in great distress comes to
the Sanctuary on a holiday; she pours out her heart to God, and her prayers are
answered; a baby is born, symbolizing new beginnings; and that child is then
dedicated to serving God and the Jewish people.
Level one: Background noise to kill
time until everyone is here and we’re ready for the important stuff. Level
two: A story from the life of a great man. Level three: A reminder that this
is the day we can pour out our hearts to God, and can start our lives
all over again from the beginning…
Let’s take another example: The
most important prayer in the Rosh HaShana liturgy – U’NETANEH TOKEF. This is a
very dramatic moment in the service. The Cantor and Choir sing the well known
words “B’Rosh Ha Shana Yikatayvu u’v Yom Tzom Kippur Yay-ha-tay-mun” and the
passage is read out in English. To many people, it’s as if they are actually
hearing the voice of God, and while they may not understand entirely the
prayer, or the theology behind it, they have a sense that Life and Death are on
the line.
If you check out any commentary to
the Mahzor, you find out that this prayer is attributed to Rabbi Amnon of Mainz, Germany,
who lived in the 11th century. When Rabbi Amnon refused the demand
that he convert from Judaism, the local bishop had him tortured, and had his
arms and legs chopped off. As he lay dying, it was Rosh HaShana, and the Rabbi
asked to be brought to shul. There, during the Kedusha of Musaf, he uttered
this prayer, which proclaims that God is the ultimate Judge, and He alone
decides who lives and who dies. It is significant that the prayer comes in the
Kedusha – which means “Sanctification”. By remaining true to his religion, and
in dying for it, Rabbi Amnon performed the ultimate act of Kiddush Ha-Shem – of
sanctifying God.
And here we are, a thousand
years later, still reciting those same words on the same day that Rabbi Amnon
died. But we have taken his words and given them new meaning. U’NETANEH TOKEF
is a reminder of our mortality – it’s our tradition grabbing us by the
lapels and shaking us: Stop wasting your life! Every moment is precious! Let
these harsh words – “who by fire, and who by water, who by sword and who by
beast, who by hunger and who by thirst” scare us straight, and force us to
confront our own deaths. But at the same time, the prayer becomes a
sermon on how we should live our lives: Teshuvah, Tefilah, Tzedaka.
Fixing what’s wrong in ourselves, Reaching out to God, Helping others in need.
Level one: A chilling melody and a
dramatic reading to set a serious mood. Level two: A tale of a righteous man
who died for his faith. Level three: An exhortation to do what is right and
good while we have the chance…
What applies to prayers, also works
with rituals.
In Temple, the most
important Jewish ritual of Rosh Ha Shana is the blowing of the Shofar. Here we
have an exotic musical instrument, which comes from an animal. Everyone loves
to hear it blown. Kids come up close to the Bimah to watch and listen; in most
synagogues there’s probably a betting line on whether any sound will
come out; at our Temple people are awe struck at how clear and how long
the sound is. From an initial dead silence, you can hear the noise of the
crowd grow as people laugh and express their delight in the talent of the Baal
Tekiah.
If you go to the source, you’ll
read in Leviticus and Numbers that on the first day of the Seventh month, the
Shofar was to be sounded. We can speculate that it was to announce the
beginning of a new year. And we know that the blowing of a horn also heralded
the reign of a new King. The Torah comes to teach us that God is our
King, and each year, to the sound of the Shofar, we proclaim our loyalty to our
Melekh.
Centuries after the Bible, the
blowing of the Shofar took on new meanings – far removed from New Years and new
kings. Saadia Gaon, among others, connects the horn of a ram with the ram that
was offered by Abraham on Mt. Moriah in place of Isaac. Perhaps it’s a subtle
reminder to God: Look how much our ancestor was willing to do for You,
so go easy on us, this Day of Judgment – if not for our sakes, then for
his. And maybe a not so subtle reminder to us: It’s often been very
hard to be a Jew – starting with Abraham and what was asked of him. To be
Jewish, today, in America, is not so hard.
Observing Shabbes, Keeping Kosher, going to Shul – is not a sacrifice.
It’s a gift.
Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon – Maimonides
– heard in the Shofar an alarm clock going off to wake us from our slumber,
from our inertia, from our laziness. “Get up! Stop wasting time! Do what you
know you need to do!”
Level one: A funny musical
instrument that keeps the kids interested. Level two: An archaic way of marking
time. Level three: A dramatic way of getting us to focus on what’s truly
important...
Or take the wonderful custom of
dipping an apple in honey at the Rosh HaShana meal. On the simplest level,
it’s a tangible (and tasty) way to wish each other a good and sweet new year:
“Shana Tova u’Metuka!”
When you delve into the custom, you
find that its origins may be a bit more complex. The two days of Rosh HaShana
are considered one long day (and thus it is observed for two days even in Israel,
where generally only one day of Yontif is followed.) But if it’s technically one
long day, how can we repeat the Sheh-heh-heh-yanu blessing on Day Two when
we’ve said it on Day One? So some great legal mind suggested that we eat a
fruit that we haven’t had in a long time. And of course, when you do that,
it’s appropriate to add the Sheh-heh-heh-yanu, which thanks God for bringing us
to this happy day. Now before there were refrigerated trucks, apples were
primarily a Fall fruit. Eating an apple in September enabled us to say the
special blessing and get around the problem of the double day.
We might take the custom to another
level altogether. Honey is sweet. Honey comes from bees. But
bees sting. We are cautioned that things that are sweet often carry a
danger. Be careful, lest you be stung. The same is true of the Apple. In
many cultures, the apple is a symbol of sexuality. It also plays an important
role in the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Again, we are warned:
Things which can be a source of a blessing can also be a source of a curse.
Enjoy the pleasures in life, but don’t let them be your undoing. An important
lesson to remember as we begin a new year.
Level one: A tasty snack. Level
two: A clever solution to a Talmudic problem. Level three: An important
message about sensuality and sin…
Here we all are, once again in the Temple, to celebrate the Jewish New Year.
But I suspect that the experience each of us
will have – just like the song Help – will be on three different levels.
A lot of us on Rosh HaShana will be
like Ringo in his manic mode, running around like a nut. From Lobby to
Sanctuary, to Bathroom to Tent to Parking Lot to Front Walkway. The goal is
not to be serious, but to just survive and get through it. Keep moving, don’t
think too deeply, have some fun, sing a song or two, and then move on to the
next thing – just like Ringo. I suspect that the length of time many people
put in here is roughly the same as the running time of that Beatles’ movie.
Nobody ever confused “Help” with Citizen Kane. It didn’t change the way you
think about Life. And, sadly, neither does a High Holiday service for too many
of us.
But just as I see a lot of Ringo
Starrs out there, I also see a lot of John Lennons. Many, many people take
what goes on here very seriously. They know it’s not all fun and games. They
see this as an opportunity to sit down and reflect on who they’ve become and
how they got there. They’re thankful for the gifts they’ve been given in life,
and they take pride in the successes they’ve achieved. But at the same time,
they are honest enough to admit their failings and confront their fears. They
castigate themselves for the compromises they’ve had to make, and they question
their principles, their beliefs, and values. These are people who spend a lot
of hours here, thinking about the year that’s passed, speculating on what the
year ahead might bring. They look into their own souls, asking probing
questions, and they look into the Mahzor, searching for answers. They sing –
not merely as a way to entertain themselves, but as a way of re-connecting to
their tradition, and identifying with their people. They are strong enough to
admit their weaknesses – and to reach out for help. And then the holiday comes
to an end. The lights come on, the movie’s over, and they go on to the next
thing: home, or work, or school. Hopefully, they’re better people for having
been here and having taken it all so seriously – but you never know. You
wonder if writing the song ‘Help’ changed John for the better, or whether it
was just a fleeting momentary diversion.
But there’s also people out there –
how many I just don’t know – who take this experience to the highest level.
They don’t leave the prayers and the customs of the day here in the Temple;
they take them with them when they go. They use what they saw and heard here to
guide their lives in the year ahead. They come to a realization that the God
whose voice they thought they might have heard during the Haftara and in the
U’NETANEH TOKEF is found not just in the Sanctuary, but wherever they
go; not just on three days in the Fall, but in every day of the year. That the
rituals that touched them and delighted them on this holiday have their analogs
on every other holiday. They understand that there are services here every night
of the year. That you can hear the Cantor sing wonderful songs at 100
services. And you can listen to the Rabbi’s sermons on 50 weekends. There’s
Adult Education Classes each Wednesday night. Our Sisterhood and Men’s Club
and Hazak group offer many interesting programs. Our Social Action and Israel
Committees provide opportunities to do things that make you feel good about
yourself, and that make the world a better place. What happens today doesn’t
have to end tomorrow. You can take some of what you found here, use it and
recreate it into something that can change your life – not for a couple of
hours, not for a couple of days – but for good (in both senses of that term!)
I was amazed when I took a look at the words of the song Help, and found out that
there was much more than I initially thought. The same is true of what’s going
on today. There’s so much here for you, to be discovered, to be interpreted,
to be embraced.
If you pay careful attention,
you’ll note that on Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur there’s an extra word that’s
added in the Hatzi Kaddish, the Full Kaddish, and the Mourners Kaddish.
Instead of saying L’ELA MI-KOL BIRKHATA V’SHIRATA, we say: L’ELA U’LELA
MIKOL BIRKHATA V’SHIRATA. During the rest of the year we say that our prayers
are “higher than any song or blessing”. But on these days, we say
“Higher & Higher”. The message of the High Holy Days
is that we must strive to raise the bar, to reach up beyond where we’ve been,
to try to go higher than ever before. If we are on Level One, where Ringo was,
we have to try to get to Level Two. And if we’re at Level Two, with John, we
want to try to make it to Level Three, taking someone else’s words, and making
them our own.
The whole point of the High Holy
Days is to go L’ela u’lela – higher and higher.
And so here is my prayer to God, on
this Rosh HaShanah…
“Help me if you can, I’m feeling
down. And I do appreciate You being ‘round. Help me get my feet back on the
ground. Won’t You please, please, help me!”
|
