When I think about the choice of narratives that the rabbis made for the Yamim Norayim, I am intrigued by their Biblical text selection. We start with Abraham in Rosh HaShanah and end with Jonah on Yom Kippur.
Why these texts? What are we supposed to learn from the juxtaposition of these different characters?
In the narrative of the Book of Genesis, Abraham was told by God to go to the land that God would show him. He did, apparently without a second thought. From that initial conversation we witness the development of Abraham as a statesman. At first, he offered his wife Sarah twice, to Pharaoh and to Abimelech, as he was establishing himself in the new place. Abraham matured as a statesman. He realized there could be trouble between him and his nephew Lot, so he offered Lot a choice of places to live, creating a peaceful solution to what could have been a thorny family issue. He went to war to save Lot, joining the five kings who were attacked by a coalition of four kings, and refusing any kind of material reward after they won the war. He stood up to God, challenging God to not destroy the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah.
The readings we have for Rosh Hashanah start after these episodes. Here we encounter an Abraham that makes choices for his family that leave a lot of room for improvement. Following God’s suggestion that he listen to Sarah, Abraham sent his concubine and their child away without the necessary supplies and without transportation. And then Abraham followed, without discussion, God’s command to sacrifice his remaining child.
Reading these two stories in the beginning of this time of deep introspection and repentance, I wonder what it was that prompted the rabbis to start Rosh HaShanah with these readings.
After all, Rosh Hashanah is the birthday of the world, as we proclaimed in the Musaf service of Rosh Hashanah. Maybe it would be more appropriate to read the texts of Creation and Adam and Eve. Yet we read the stories that paint our ancestor as an under-developed family man.
We read Jonah’s story later in the afternoon.
In contrast with Abraham, Jonah heard God’s command to go to the city of Nineveh, and immediately boarded a ship going the other way, to Tarshish. God sent a powerful storm that made the sailors scatter, each praying to their own gods, fully understanding how lethal was this storm. Meanwhile, Jonah found a place at the bottom of the ship and fell fast asleep. When the sailors found him sleeping, they asked him to wake up and pray to his God. Jonah told the sailors that he was the source of the problem, which would be resolved when he would not be aboard the ship. He asked the sailors to throw him in the ocean. Jonah did not jump in the ocean. He did not take full responsibility for his actions. He was swallowed by a big fish, prayed, and was vomited to shore to fulfill his mission. Prophets in general usually fail at their missions – but not Jonah. Jonah got the whole town to repent in such a fantastic way that even the animals repented, wearing sackcloth and ashes. Since Nineveh repented, God pardoned the city, and Jonah got very angry. After all, he ran away from his mission because he knew God would be gracious with Nineveh and pardon their sins. Jonah went to the desert and sat at a short distance from the city. God brought up a kikayon, some kind of tree, for Jonah, and he was happy with the shade it provided. The next day God destroyed the tree, and Jonah said he did not want to live anymore. God challenged Jonah to think about the ways in which he cared for the plant and didn’t care for the human beings in the town. Jonah’s story ends with God’s challenge, without a response.
Reading this story at the end of this time of deep introspection and repentance, I wonder what prompted the rabbis to end the narrative of Yom Kippur with this reading. We never find out if the prophet Jonah repented from his actions. His inability to empathize with other human beings, his hardened heart, his flight from his mission, are hardly examples to be followed by us!
These readings that flank our Days of Repentance portray two flawed individuals whose behaviors in these readings are not to be imitated. Why are these stories here?
In the Kabbalah Abraham is the personality that is connected with Hessed, God’s unlimited love, the love that knows no restraints or boundaries. With his behavior, I see Jonah as a person fitting G’vurah, or strict, unbending judgment. During these Days of Awe we move God, with our prayers and our supplications, from Judgment, G’vurah, to Love, Hessed, hoping that God will balance God’s energies and settle into Harmony, or Tiferet. Maybe we follow the arc of the stories from Abraham to Jonah to remind us to achieve balance, to focus our attention on the constant tug of war between Hessed and G’vurah that so much defines this time of year. Or maybe the rabbis challenged us, with their choice of readings, to improve our actions and add to our challenges during the Days of Awe by engaging in the process of tikkun.
The word tikkun has many meanings. We can understand Tikkun as a correction of an error, as repair, as reform, and as improvement.
Tikkun sometimes means a correction of an error. As human beings, we will make mistakes. We all say, one time or another, “I wish I did this differently.” Maybe we missed an opportunity to point out and correct an injustice, maybe we did not help someone to see how their actions contribute to the inequity that is ever present, or maybe we said (or didn’t say) something that upon reflection was not right, true, good, or helpful. The texts the rabbis chose do not show Abraham or Jonah trying to correct their errors. These texts do not even show that they recognized their errors. We read their stories, reflect upon our actions, and make tikkun, correcting our mistakes.
Tikkun is also understood as repair. We all come to this world with a mission, a call to go do something. Throughout the years our souls get hurt, and that mission that seemed so clear is forgotten, buried in the chaos of our daily lives. Jonah ran away from his mission, and forgot that his goal as a prophet was to make people change. He lacked appreciation for his victories. We read his story and learn that for the mission for which we were born and have yet to realize we can do Tikkun, the repair of our souls, so we can fulfill our mission.
Tikkun is also reform. Sometimes a complete change is needed. Sometimes we must actively engage in reforming our thinking, in order to create the pathway for a more fair-minded approach to our actions, and for the creation of a just and equitable society for all. We cannot simply follow the guidelines that determined our behavior in the past, the voice that compelled us to act in a way that was not helpful to this world. Abraham had the opportunity to challenge God when it came to the destiny of his son. Jonah had the opportunity to be more empathetic toward the people of Nineveh. We must do tikkun, reform the beliefs that do not bring harmony to this world, moving ourselves from complacency or strict and unhelpful judgment to a place of Beauty and Compassion.
Tikkun is also improvement. There are things in our lives that do not need to be completely overhauled. They just need improvement. We have done a lot, we have contributed to the betterment of the world, and we can do better going forward. Abraham, the great statesman, had to improve his skills as a parent. Jonah, the successful prophet, had to improve his reaction to God’s compassion, and grow in his own capacity for compassion. We can continue to grow, learn, and improve, examining, with discernment and compassion, our words and actions.
Even after we correct errors, repair, reform, and improve we continue to examine our behaviors and beliefs. We do not rest on our laurels when we feel that we have made improvements. There is always room for improvement and growth. I think that the rabbis chose these readings so we understand that the process of tikkun doesn’t end when Yom Kippur ends. Abraham and Jonah were not perfect, they had room for tikkun. We, who are also not perfect, have plenty of tikkun to do. For the times in which, like Abraham and Jonah, we were intransigent, lacked compassion, judged ourselves and others harshly, that we followed leaders unquestionably, that we undermined our relationships with our loved ones, that we did not engage in conversation with God when there was something asked of us that we knew we shouldn’t do, that we lacked empathy for other human beings and did not accept their repentance – for all these times these readings tell us that we can make tikkun. We connect with our texts as we ask ourselves in which ways we developed and excelled, and in which ways we failed, and we must improve. Abraham and Jonah were not perfect and the rabbis, by highlighting their journey, teach us that we also are not expected to be perfect.
What’s expected of us is that we make tikkun, so we can journey forward into the new year with love and compassion for ourselves and others, into a future where we are stronger, kinder, more joyful and, especially, more whole.