"Who Shall Live and Who Shall Die?"

Kol Nidrei 
October 12th, 2005 
Rabbi Gary S. Creditor 

One of the most powerful pieces of High Holy Day liturgy is the Unetaneh Tokef. While its origin is shrouded in controversy, its main passage attacks our complacency, our smugness, our self-centeredness. The text shakes us. 

"On Rosh Hashanah it is written and on Yom Kippur it is sealed. 

Who shall live and who shall die?" 

We sing the refrain in a somewhat sweet melody. Yet clause by clause, short and terse, the text confronts us with the message: We do not know what is going to happen to us in the coming year, in the coming week, or even tomorrow.  Yet we pray, with a mindset that says that we have some control over our lives. We want control over our lives. We were taught that if we live righteously, if we truly repent and atone for our sins between each other and for those between God, and us we should expect to get a "contract with God" for another year of life. Not for riches. Not for possessions. Not for power. Just for life. And our Judaism further teaches us, that babies, innocent little children, don't need to go through this process because they are not yet culpable for their deeds. We, their parents, are responsible and culpable for minors. They should automatically, according to this system of faith, be given "a renewable contract for life." Not for good grades. Not how to ride a bicycle. Not to eat up all their food. Just for life. 

This is not the way it always works. We are currently living during colossal natural catastrophes that belie these ideas and challenge our faith. The writer of the Unetaneh Tokef, living maybe two thousand years ago, could not have imagined the appropriateness of his words: 
How many shall pass on and how many will be born; 
Who shall live and who shall die; 
Who shall finish their allotted time, and who not; 
Who is to perish by fire and who by water; 
Who by sword and who by wild beasts; 
Who by hunger and who by thirst; 
Who by an earthquake and who by a plague; 
B'rosh HaShanah yikatayvun, u'v'Yom Tzom Kippur yay-cha-tay-mun 
On Rosh HaShanah it is written and on the Fast of Yom Kippur it is sealed. 
We do not know the answers to these questions in advance, only after the fact. 

What do we do with this prayer after the Hurricanes of Katrina and Rita, the rumors of a pandemic of avian flu, the tsunami of last December and mammoth earthquake in Pakistan and India earlier this week? 

In the days after Katrina, fundamentalists had a field day connecting the phenomenon of nature with sin. Either New Orleans was a sinful city and deserved it, or God was punishing the USA for forcing Israel out of Gaza, or God was punishing the USA for being in Afghanistan and Iraq. The former Sephardic chief Rabbi of Israel proclaimed that these happened because of too little Torah study. Our Judaism does not teach of a vengeful God, who intentionally kills the innocent and the wicked indiscriminately. That was Abraham's argument with God when He wanted to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah. Abraham stood up and said "Won't the judge of all the earth not do justice?" Since the cities were destroyed, the implication in the Torah is that there were not any righteous people in them. We deny the simplicity of the fundamentalists. 

So what do we think of ourselves, our lives, our families, of God? 
How do we plan our lives when these phenomenon when Hurricane Isabel two years ago, and Tropical Storm Gaston last year, come at us out -of-the-blue? 

I share with you three responses to my vexing questions. 

I. One answer: As God controls all things, when bad things happen; it is we who do not understand why they happen.

Such havoc is beyond our comprehension. There has to be a reason, and we just don't understand. So our reaction is to scream at God and force Him to repent for what He causes us. Maybe we should summon God to court. But we don't. We are too timid. We don't have Abraham's courage. 

Our son Menachem cited a Chasidic story from the famous Reb Levi Yitzchak in his own contemplation upon this subject. 

It had been a terrible year in Berditchev. Horrible misfortune and persecutions, failed crops, pogrom after pogrom. The community gathered to say its prayers on the Day of Atonement. The synagogue was full when Reb Levi paused, looked up toward the heavens and spoke to God. "Today all your creatures stand before You, O Lord, so that You may pass sentence. But I, Levi Yitzchak, say and proclaim that it is You who shall be judged today by Your children who suffer for You, who die for You and the sanctification of Your name and Your law and Your promise!" 

Reb Levi Yitzchak called Berel the tailor to come before the congregation. The Rebbe knew well that Berel had suffered grievously during the past year. Illness and affliction beyond measure. Poverty and hunger beyond description. Levi Yitzhak began: "Berel, on this, our most sacred day of repentance and judgment, can you declare before God and this congregation that you, yourself, have been free of sin this year?" 

"Of course not!" replied the tailor. "I am not without sin. From time to time, I kept left over cloth, when really I knew that it did not belong to me. I have lost my temper. I have said unkind things. Of these offenses, I am guilty. I am prepared to make amends." 

Levi Yitzchak knew that Berel was not finished. "You have more to tell us, Berel?" 

"I do. Honestly, Rebbe, my sins have been relatively minor. But consider, please, our people's grievances against the Almighty. This year, as in years past, orphans have been left behind. Illness and hatred, sadness and hunger have reared their heads." Arms flailing toward the heavens, tears pouring from his eyes, Berel declared, "God, you wish me to repent of my sins. That I can do... at least I can try. But I say to you... Let us declare a draw. You forgive me... and I will forgive You!" 

Legend has it that to this Levi Yitzchak exploded, "Berel, you have let God off too easily! You could have forced the Almighty to bring the Messiah!" 

After Katrina shattered New Orleans and the Gulf coast, I then wrote a sermon in which I wondered what Noah was thinking during the forty days of the flood. Though in the Torah Noah is silent, maybe he got up on the top and yelled to God: "Stop it! Enough already!" Some days, when I read the newspaper that is how I feel and what I want to say to God. 

There are times when I want to summon God to this Sanctuary, put a Machzor in His hand, and tell Him to please rise and recite Al Chet and Ashamnu, for that which has happened to individuals, to families, to the Jewish people, to Israel, to all humanity who suffer. I want God, like a divine Parent, to make it all better, kiss our wounds and heal us. I am still waiting. His world is still waiting. 

II. My second response is based on the text of the Unetaneh Tokef itself.

While there is a tradition that it was written in 1096 or 1100, scholarship indicates that it probably originates much earlier in the Jerusalem Talmud. But there is a significant difference in the two texts. In the Jerusalem Talmud it reads, "Shelosha devarim mevatlin et hagezeirah" - "Three things annul the decree." Namely, by practicing teshuvah - repentance, tefillah - prayer, and tzedakah - righteousness, we control our destiny. According to the Talmud, used in tandem we can blow away the hurricane, still the earthquake, and avert death. The author of our prayer took that text and changed it. The Unetaneh Tokef says that these three, repentance, prayer and righteousness "ma'avirin et roah hagezeirah" - "mitigate the evilness of the degree." Our prayer says that these three cannot annul or eliminate evil. We cannot deter death. We cannot control the laws of nature. We cannot. We cannot make everybody angelic. But by searching our souls through teshuvah, praying to God through tefillah and helping other people through tzedakah we help ourselves and others cope with evil and make the evilness of the decree, of the vicissitudes of life, pass. 

I can accept the rewrite by our anonymous author. It makes good sense of our world and what has occurred and gives us responsibility. It gives us a different type of control over our destiny. Many things have the potential to make our world miserable and life terrible. Yet, with inner strength born of personal reflection - teshuvah, with divine inspiration to rise higher - tefillah, and with compassion to others - tzedakah, we can repair a broken world, transform shattered lives and rebuild shattered communities. The world will be what it will be, but we can transcend the evil and make it better. 


III. I composed my third and final response for the sermon on September 2nd.

You want to ask me the obvious question: So where is God during all of this? I answer by citing the story of Elijah in I Kings 19:11-12. Elijah has questioned the worth of his being a prophet of God. So God tells him to come out of the cave. "And lo, the Lord passed by. There was a great and mighty wind, splitting mountains and shattering rocks by the power of the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind - an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake - fire; but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire - kol d'mahmah da-kah - a soft murmuring sound, the still small voice." God is present, as this globe is present, with its natural beauty and its natural horror. He is the source of all existence, which then functions according to its inherent physical natural laws. God is made manifest through our deeds, in our voice, in our acts of salvation, in our deeds of redemption. In the still small voice of our lives is where God is also to be found, the God who enables us to give, and give again, the God who judges us and loves us. 

It will be a long, long time before millions of people find relief. We have never experienced such an occurrence-without-contingency in the history of our country and so many tremendous catastrophes around the world. To make God manifest in this world and in our lives, then it must be from within us, by our deeds, by our compassion and by our graciousness. The still small voice of the Lord can speak through each of us. We can be partners in the salvation of broken lives and the redemption of humanity. 

This is how I recite the Unetaneh Tokef this year, with all three meanings at once. I protest to God, realize the limitations of my life and my knowledge, and give of myself. 

Conclusion 

Last Rosh HaShanah Ruby and I davened with my dear friends who live in Efrat. My friend's wife Rinah is Yemenite so we attended her synagogue. Their rituals are quite different. In their Machzor, in the full Kaddish is inserted a unique text. I offer it as our prayer this Kol Nidrei night. 

And may Adonay our God open for us and for all Israel our brethren, 
Gates of light and gates of love,   gates of friendship and gates of blessing, 
Gates of understanding & gates to His holy sanctuary, gates of redemption & gates of greatness, 
Gates of joy and gates of rejoicing, gates of knowledge and gates of glory, 
Gates of splendor and gates of success, gates of goodness and gates of merit, 
Gates of vitality and gates of song, gates of gladness and gates of mercy, 
Gates of wisdom & gates of grace & loving kindness, gates of goodness and gates of purity, 
Gates of wealth and gates of salvation, gates of atonement and gates of sustenance, 
Gates of study and gates of food, gates of forgiveness and gates of answers, 
Gates of comfort and gates of forgiveness, gates of support and gates of  secrets, 
Gates of help and gates of redemption, gates of good livelihood & gates of righteousness, 
Gates of happiness and gates of standing upright,  gates of complete healing & gates of peace, 
Gates of tranquility and gates of abundance, gates of Torah and gates of prayer, 
And gates of repentance. 

May all these gates open and reveal to us our loving God in a world that we shall make better. May this be our desire. May all the gates be open to us in the year ahead. May we be blessed with life and with peace.