Sermon for Kol Nidre night 5781
September 27, 2020
“Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!”
Do most of you recognize that line? It’s from the movie the Wizard of Oz. It’s spoken by the Wizard himself, played by Frank Morgan. An article in the website www.shmoop.com sets the context:
“If you were in Dorothy's shoes (or should we say slippers?), the name the Wizard of Oz would sound magical. Who is this grand Wizard of Oz? He must be amazing, right? Well, it turns out the Wizard of Oz isn't all he's cracked up to be. When Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion, and the Scarecrow all find the Wizard, they hear a loud voice booming all around them, telling them to come back another time. It almost sounds as if the Wizard of Oz is some kind of god, sending his message down from the clouds. But then Toto, Dorothy's dog, discovers that the Wizard is no god. In fact, he's just a guy operating a bunch of controls behind a green curtain. When Toto rips the curtain to the side, the Wizard of Oz realizes he's been found out, and tries to cover it up by shouting over his loudspeaker, "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!"[1]
What does all this have to do with Yom Kippur you may ask?
Well, in recent days I have been thinking about the connection between “the man behind the curtain” in the Wizard of Oz and “the man behind the curtain” – aka the Kohen Gadol or High Priest – in the ancient rites of Yom Kippur.
In our Torah reading for tomorrow morning, Leviticus 16, it says:
1 “Adonai spoke to Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron who died when they drew too close to the presence of the Eternal. 2 Adonai said to Moses: Tell your brother Aaron that he is not to come at will into the Shrine behind the curtain, in front of the cover that is upon the ark, lest he die; for I appear in the cloud over the cover.”
The Torah is speaking of the Mishkan, the portable shrine that the people carried around with them in the wilderness and that tradition teaches was the predecessor of the more elaborate Bet Hamikdash – the Temple that King Solomon built in Jerusalem in the 10th century B.C.E. The Bet Hamikdash was destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 B.C.E., rebuilt on a possibly smaller scale some seventy years later, and then destroyed again by the Romans in 70 C.E.
Tradition teaches that when those first and second Temples stood, the Kohen Gadol or High Priest would go מבית לפרכת (behind the curtain) to the innermost sanctuary, the Holy of Holies, once a year – on Yom Kippur—to bring about atonement for himself, for his household, for his fellow Kohanim, and for the nation as a whole.
For our ancestors, this was the real thing. It was no fake gimmicry as in the Wizard of Oz.
And when it all came to a violent and tragic end in 70 C.E., that could have been the end of Judaism itself.
However, that was not the end of Judaism. As is taught in the classic text Avot de Rabbi Natan ---
“Once Rabban Yoḥanan ben Zakkai was leaving Jerusalem, and his student Rabbi Joshua followed him. Seeing the Temple in ruins, Rabbi Joshua said: “Woe are we! For we see in ruins the place where Israel’s sins could be atoned for!” Then Rabban Yoḥanan told him: “Be not upset, my son. There is another way of gaining atonement that is just as effective. That is: deeds of lovingkindness.” For it is written, “I desire lovingkindness, not sacrifice” (Hosea 6).[2] “
However, even then, a nostalgic longing remained for the former glorious era of the days of the Temple. Which is how it comes to pass that our liturgy includes evocations of those sacrifices that were offered up in days of old. In Tractate Ta’anit of the Talmud, the sages portray Abraham asking God what would happen to the Jewish people in the future if the Temple were destroyed and sacrificial offerings could no longer be brought. God answers Abraham saying:
כבר תקנתי להם סדר קרבנות. בזמן שקוראין בהן לפני, מעלה אני עליהם כאילו הקריבום לפני -- ואני מוחל להם על כל עונותיהם
“I have already enacted for them the order of offerings. When they read them before Me, I will ascribe them credit as though they had sacrificed them before Me -- and I will pardon them for all their transgressions. [3]”
That reading takes on especially elaborate form in the liturgy of Yom Kippur when we read Seder Avodah , which we’ll be doing tomorrow afternoon at 4:30 p.m.
Our machzor translates “Seder Avodah” as “Avodah Service”. And this part of the Yom Kippur liturgy is often called “The Service of the Kohen Gadol” or “The Service of the High Priest.”
However, as many of you may know – the word “Seder” – which is its official title – doesn’t mean “Service” . Seder means “Order”. And hearing that word “Seder” --- a word I’m sure you all know --- reminds us of what other important Jewish holiday?
Passover, of course.
I think it’s no coincidence that our tradition refers to the Service of the Kohen Gadol in the Yom Kippur liturgy as a “SEDER” - reminding us of the “SEDER” we gather for on Passover night.
At the Passover “SEDER” we are invited to imagine that we ourselves are there --- that we ourselves are going forth out of slavery to freedom.
And on Yom Kippur, when we read the “SEDER” of the Kohen Gadol we are invited to think of ourselves as if we ourselves are there --- that we are standing in the courtyard of the Bet Hamikdash, that we ourselves are hearing the High Priest from behind the curtain/ מבית לפרכת pronouncing the explicit name of God that only he can pronounce, only in that one place, only on that one day of the year – Yom Kippur.
And hearing that name we would fall on our faces and shout in response: BARUKH SHEM KEVOD MALCHUTO LE’OLAM VA’ED --- Blessed be the Name of God’s sovereign Presence forever and ever -- as the Kohen Gadol would intone the critical verse:
כִּֽי־בַיּ֥וֹם הַזֶּ֛ה יְכַפֵּ֥ר עֲלֵיכֶ֖ם לְטַהֵ֣ר אֶתְכֶ֑ם מִכֹּל֙ חַטֹּ֣אתֵיכֶ֔ם לִפְנֵ֥י יְהוָ֖ה תִּטְהָֽרוּ׃
“For on this day atonement shall be made for you to cleanse you of all your sins; you shall be clean before Adonai.” [4]
What might these dramatic re-enactments in Jewish ritual do for us today?
On Passover, we are challenged to internalize what freedom means in our lives --- and how we might expand the bounds of freedom in the world at large.
On Yom Kippur, we are challenged to internalize what true reconciliation means in our lives – between ourselves and those closest to us and between ourselves and God --- and how we might expand the bounds of reconciliation in the world at large.
When I think about Seder Avodah, about this admittedly strange ancient tableau of 2nd Temple Era ritual life, what most strikes me is the image of the crowds of people gathered together in unity and commitment. This aspect is particularly striking because there was never any mitzvah in the era of the 1st and 2nd Temples for the population to make pilgrimage to Jerusalem for Yom Kippur. Our “Shalosh Regalim” , our “Three Pilgrimage Festivals” in Judaism were and are Passover, Shavuot and Sukkot. However, as Rabbi Reuven Hammer explains in his book “Entering the High Holy Days”:
“The Yom Kippur rite of the High Priest in the Second Temple was without doubt the most impressive and important ritual of ancient Judaism. In the course of time, it became the most solemn moment of the Jewish year, the moment in which the key elements of holiness come together: the holiest individual, the holiest time, the holiest place. The result was that although Yom Kippur is not one of the festivals when Jews are commanded to attend the Temple in Jerusalem, multitudes thronged there to witness the ritual and to hear the words of the High Priest […] From a religious standpoint, it was of supreme importance as the time when forgiveness and atonement could be attained.” [5]
Those multitudes did not have to be there. But yet they came.
I imagine that they felt that that were aspects of their lives that had gotten out of sync. That somehow the lives they were leading were not what they could be.
But this magic of the Kohen Gadol doing whatever it was he was doing behind that curtain, that this would make everything all better – that this would MAKE JUDEA GREAT AGAIN.
As for you and I, methinks we’re more like Dorothy and her friends than we are like our ancestors gathered in that Temple courtyard.
We can see behind the curtain.
We know that it all can’t just be done FOR US.
We know that we, ourselves, have work to do if we are to make America great again – or if we are to make America great for the first time – let alone if we are to heal the world at large.
These prayers, these rituals, these hymns – they can inspire us, they can motivate us, they can comfort us. I know they do for me.
But the work remains.
Some versions of Seder Avodah feature this wistful concluding observation ---
אַשְׁרֵי עַֽיִן רָאֲתָה כָל אֵֽלֶּה
“HAPPY IS THE EYE THAT SAW ALL THIS!”
For us it’s not so simple.
But we remain full of hope and determination.
Gmar chatimah tovah/ May we all be sealed in the Book of Life for a good year – us, our families, our friends, our country, our world.
Amen.
© Rabbi David Steinberg (September 2020/ Tishri 5781)
[1] https://www.shmoop.com/quotes/pay-no-attention-man-behind-the-curtain.html
[2] Avot de-Rabbi Natan 11a (translation : Rabbi Ron Aigen)
[3] Ta’anit 27b
[4] Lev. 16:20
[5] Reuven Hammer, Entering the High Holy Days, pp. 156-157.
