As you all know by now, each Torah portion is named with its first significant word. We have just read Parashat Nitzavim which opens אתם נצנים היום כלכם לפני יהוה “You all stand here this day before God”, and this week, we read Haazinu; listen. The people are at a crossroads. Moses tells them that they must renew the covenant with God before entering the Promised Land; that if they don’t, they will suffer, and that the covenant and its promises will remain; they can always return to God. God tells them “Choose life, that you and your children may live” (Deut. 30:19)., all you who are here and those who are not here…God means everyone, everyone who has ever and will ever live. This means us. The Israelites are at the edge of the Promised Land, about to enter that which they have sought for the past 40 years. Moses knows his life is about to end and he spends his last few weeks talking to them, reminding them where they have come from, talking about where they are going and about the long journey that has led them here. He talks about the unique society they are forming and he tells them האזינו ; listen. Let all the earth hear these words.
It is nearly the end of the month of Elul; each morning we have heard the shofar blast; it is our ancient alarm that rouses us out of our comfortable complacency and tells us to wake up. The sound evokes a visceral response. For the entire month which will end Friday at sundown with the arrival of Rosh Hashanah, we Jews have been looking at ourselves critically. We’ve been looking deep to identify all the times we have missed the mark. We have been doing serious thinking about what we want to change in the coming year, how we want to move forward. For the 10 days between RH and YK, the Days of Awe, this just intensifies and takes on increasing urgency. The Shabbat that falls in between is Shabbat Shuvah, the Shabbat of return. Return to God; as Moses said, return is always open to us. On YK, we will fast, we will gather in community and we will atone for our sins against God, reaffirm our covenant and return. We pray that when the gates close at sundown, we will have been inscribed in the Book of Life for another year. It’s an intense and necessary exercise.
Before Moses took his last breath, he wanted to be sure his message would be remembered לדור ודור from generation to generation, he wanted his message to be a continual inspiration to the people, so he sang his second song. The first was at the shores of the Reed Sea after escaping slavery, ending that long chapter in their lives; just as Moses is now standing on Mt Nebo and singing the people their history and future, Moses stood on the shores of the parted sea and reminded them of where they came from and where they were going.
These are the bookends flanking the difficult journey through the wilderness. As the Israelites fled Egypt, not even having time for their bread to rise, instead of grabbing some clothes and a toothbrush, the women grabbed musical instruments. They knew there would be dancing and singing. They knew how deeply spiritual music is, how it ties us all together as one, and how it lifts our souls to the heavens. Whether in times of joy and celebration, times of fear or sadness, in the morning, noon and night, however and wherever we find ourselves, music has and continues to be profoundly and universally spiritual. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks said, “When language aspires to the transcendent, and the soul longs to break free of the gravitational pull of the earth, it modulates into song.” When we pray, we are singing. Jews take this to heart; when we are together in prayer, we chant and we sing with ancient melodies. Everything, every prayer is music. It engages our entire being when we sing and move and sway as we pray. So of course, Miriam and the women brought their instruments. They would need them to sing their way through the wilderness and to the Promised Land.
In the last three Psalms 148,149 and 150, our voices and our instruments are raised together to sing praises to God. All of Creation sings praises to God. We have been calling Prospect the Music Church. We, those of the music church have just arrived at the sea. We weren’t slaves (thankfully), but we have just ended a long chapter in our lives together. We are facing the wilderness, the unknown. We don’t know who will ultimately lead us, we don’t know yet where we are going or how we will get there. We don’t even know if we will survive the journey, but here we go. In order to survive as a People, the Israelites had to transform themselves; this took time and there were struggles. We too, must transform ourselves. At this crossroad, we need to look deep, look critically at ourselves, do serious thinking about what and how we want to change; we need to identify those things that aren’t working for us anymore, things we might have wanted to do differently and then make a plan for how we will change in the coming year. We need to turn, to return to each other and to God to find our way. For us too, in this moment, it is an intense and necessary exercise. Of course, our history together informs who we are in this moment and how we will move forward. We have identified some of our challenges and in the first steps on our journey, have started formulating ideas, visions of who we would like to become. What will our Sinai be? What will be our revelations? When will arrive at our promised land?
It seems, at times, like it would be easier and more comfortable to return to our past, but this would mean the end of us. In order to grow we must learn; in order to survive we must press forward; in order to thrive we must traverse our wilderness, step into the unknown. We are like that small band of folks stepping onto the yellow brick road in their quest to find the Emerald City. Well, we actually live in the Emerald City, but we do need to see the wizard, who we discovered was the metaphor for what was inside ourselves all along. They sang as they walked whether they were joyous or scared, tired or energized. And arm in arm they moved forward.
Our faith and the music within each of us, unite us in a common bond. Here we will find the strength to get to our Promised Land, our land of milk and honey, of
love, fellowship, and song. The music will lead us there.
We as individuals and collectively as a community have been given life. Who are we? Who will we become? A year from now, how will we find ourselves? The shofar is blowing for us too. Listen to it. Are you awake? Are we awake for the life we have been given? The last section of this Torah portion (Deut. 31:19) closes with “Now write for yourselves this song”. It is the last of 613 commandments, the command for each of us to write or take part in writing a Sefer Torah. It's about keeping this gift from God alive; that is, continuity. It will be written fresh in every generation. Well, our history, our connection to God needs to be written again, rewritten so that we give the next generation something to sing about, something to dance about, something vital to celebrate. Let us lift up the music that is already within each of us. אנחמו נצבים היום כלכם לפני יהוה We, all together, stand here today before God; all who are here and those who are not here…We, the Music Church, unique and special, so grab your instruments, your timbrels. Dance… and let us raise our voices. Together we will write a new song that will lift our newly created selves to the heavens.
G’mar chatimah tova!
May you all be written in the book of life for a good new year.
Amen.