More Than the Motions
The Haftarot of the High Holy Days
Haftarah for Yom Kippur Morning (Isa. 57:14–58:14)
There comes a point each Yom Kippur morning when I start feeling pretty good about myself. I’m in shul, wearing my white kittel, mahzor open, stomach growling, the perfect image of the pious Jew, doing just want God wants me to do.
And then I read the haftarah for Yom Kippur morning, and suddenly I don’t feel so good.
The haftarah, from Isaiah chapter 57, was chosen precisely to prevent the type of self-congratulatory behavior that we humans exhibit when we play the “dutiful child,” while simultaneously managing to miss our larger purpose.
Here we are, deeply committed individuals, laser-focused on the spiritual goal of the day—reflection and repentance—so that we might be granted another year in the Book of Life. But the words of this morning’s haftarah are meant to make us question whether that goal is the ultimate goal that God is seeking from us.
God, speaking through the prophet Isaiah, shakes us and says:
Is such the fast that I desire, a day for people to starve their bodies? Is it bowing the head like a bulrush and lying in sackcloth and ashes? Do you call that a fast, a day when Adonai is favorable? (Isa. 58:5)
Wait? Are we not doing the right thing? How is it possible that in this moment of piety, I am made to feel inadequate?
No, this is the fast that I desire: to unlock the fetters of wickedness, and untie the cords of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free; To break off every yoke. It is to share your bread with the hungry, and to take the wretched poor into your home; When you see the naked to clothe them and do not ignore your own flesh. (Isa. 58:6–7)
And now I see that I am the child, seeking approval from a heavenly parent for suddenly making my bed, when all the while they’ve been desperate for me to take responsibility for cleaning the entire house.
May our personal acts of righteousness on this Day of Atonement be inexorably linked with our understanding of duty to the other—to the poor, the needy, the enslaved—and to our families, our communities, and ourselves, as well.
Back to Glimmers of Light: Reflections on Hope for the Days of Awe 5785
