TFTW Archive 2024 October

Dear Members and Friends,

In 1974, Leonard Cohen recorded the song ‘Who by Fire’ in his album ‘New Skin for the Old Ceremony.’
 
And who by fire, who by water
Who in the sunshine, who in the nighttime
Who by high ordeal, who by common trial
Who in your merry merry month of may
Who by very slow decay
And who shall I say is calling?
 
And who in her lonely slip, who by barbiturate
Who in these realms of love, who by something blunt
Who by avalanche, who by powder
Who for his greed, who for his hunger
And who shall I say is calling?
 
And who by brave assent, who by accident
Who in solitude, who in this mirror
Who by his lady's command, who by his own hand
Who in mortal chains, who in power
And who shall I say is calling?
 
These words have particular significance in the dark shadow of the anniversary of October 7^th  terrorist attack on Israel and the resulting wars and devastation in Gaza and Lebanon. Too many people have died, and too many have lost everything they owned. Too many Israelis suffer from the displacement and trauma of losing their loved ones. Too many innocent Palestinians and Lebanese people have been caught in these terrible wars. The lyrics of this song become descriptive and prophetic, with its unanswered question at the end of each stanza: ‘And who shall I say is calling?’ Is it God’s call? Is it humanity’s responsibility? Who can we ask for help and advice?
 
Did you know this song is based on the High Holy Days prayer "Un’taneh Tokef"? The Liberal prayer book skips the lines that inspired Leonard Cohen to write this song, so if you have only experienced Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur in a Liberal synagogue, it is harder to notice the reference. However, the more traditional version of this prayer includes these words:
 
On Rosh Hashanah they will be written down 
And on Yom Kippur they will be sealed: 
How many will pass on and how many will be created, 
Who will live and who will die, 
Who at their end and who not at their end, 
Who by fire and who by water, 
Who by warfare and who by wildlife, 
Who by hunger and who by thirst, 
Who by earthquake and who by plague, 
Who by strangling and who by stoning, 
Who will rest and who will wander, 
Who will be tranquil and who will be troubled, 
Who will be calm, and who will be tormented, 
Who will be exalted and who humbled, 
Who will be rich and who will be poor? 
And repentance, prayer, and charity 
Help the hardship of the decree pass.
(Translation by Dr Joel M. Hoffman, Source: Who By Fire, Who By Water (Prayers of Awe) (pp. 30-31). Turner Publishing Company.)
 
According to legend, this prayer was composed by Rabbi Amnon of Mainz, a respected Jewish leader in medieval Germany. The story tells of a local bishop who tried to pressure the Rabbi to convert to Christianity. In a moment of duress, he requested three days to consider the offer but immediately regretted even suggesting he might abandon his faith. When he refused to return to the bishop, soldiers were sent to seize him, and he was brutally tortured as punishment for his perceived disrespect. On Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, Rabbi Amnon was brought to the synagogue, where he composed and recited the prayer "Un’taneh Tokef," a profound meditation on life, death, and divine judgment. Shortly after delivering this powerful prayer, he passed away, and his words were later recorded and integrated into the High Holy Day liturgy, becoming a central part of Jewish worship during this sacred time.
 
This story most likely never happened in real life, but it remains a part of what Jewish people know and tell each other. It is impossible to accept the premise of this prayer and think that on Rosh Hashanah, God decides who will live and who will die. The only way to live with this prayer is to understand it poetically and metaphorically and draw life wisdom from it.
 
The powerful words of "Un’taneh Tokef," reflected in Leonard Cohen's "Who by Fire," remind us of life's uncertainties. Paradoxically, they also make us consider the precious opportunities in each moment. As we enter the new year, we are called to embrace life with renewed hope and purpose. While we cannot control every twist of fate, we can choose how we respond to it. The concluding words of the prayer say: 
 
And repentance, prayer, and charity 
Help the hardship of the decree pass.
 
They urge us to respond to all disasters with kindness, self-reflection, resilience, and a commitment to better ourselves and the world around us. We cannot undo October 7^th and its consequences. Still, we can and must respond to terror with reflection and charity, balance murder with healing, and resist revenge by showing kindness and understanding. Nobody wins in a war.
 
May the new year be a year of peace and healing.
 
Shabbat Shalom and Shanah Tovah!
Rabbi Igor

Dear Members and Friends,

In Lamed Shapiro's short story ‘Wings,’ he reflects on the annual transformation of their family's humble pantry into a Sukkah, a temporary hut or booth that Jewish people build and spend time in during the week-long Sukkot festival. This ordinary space, filled with sacks of potatoes and barrels of borscht, is reborn each year with the opening of its roof ‘wings,’ becoming a sacred space where the family eats, sleeps, and engages in conversations for all eight nights of the festival.

One year, on the festival's second day, dark clouds gather, and a storm shatters the holiness of the sukkah. As rain drips through the roof, the family abandons the sacred space. The sukkah had become a pantry again.

People have the unique ability to fill the time and space with meaning. What can be an ordinary pantry or storage room, tomorrow can become a sukkah, a space of deep religious significance. The synagogue I grew up in had no building; it shared the space with many other organisations. There was no dedicated prayer hall, just a regular concert hall. But things changed when the community gathered and started to sing Ma Tovu. The same happens with the LJS’s Montefiore Hall terrace. All year long, it is a lovely outside space for people to escape from noisy and hot Kiddush, a space for children to play football. But once a year, this space is transformed into a Sukkah, a fragile, temporary structure filled with meanings.

This transformation is what Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel called the ‘Architecture of Time.’ In his book ‘The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man’ he writes:

‘Jewish ritual may be characterized as the art of significant forms in time, as architecture of time. Most of its observances–the Sabbath, the New Moon, the festivals, the Sabbatical and the Jubilee year–depend on a certain hour of the day or season of the year. It is, for example, the evening, morning, or afternoon that brings with it the call to prayer. The main themes of faith lie in the realm of time.’

When we build the Sukkah, we don’t just create a physical space; we inspire ideas and fill the time with meaning. What does the Sukkah represent this year?

1. Symbol of Our Journey: The sukkah serves as a powerful reminder of Jewish history and the journey of the Israelites during their 40 years in the wilderness after the Exodus from Egypt. During that time, the Israelites lived in temporary tents as they wandered through the desert. The sukkah, therefore, reminds us of our ancestors' resilience and the importance of adapting to challenging circumstances. If they did it in the ancient world, without what we would consider basic needs, we can do it too.
    
2. Vulnerability and Humility: By leaving our permanent homes and residing in the sukkah, we are reminded of the fragility of existence. Last years had many examples of how suddenly people’s lives can change. Nobody who has experienced a war, a terror attack or a climate catastrophe was fully prepared for it. Nobody expects a sudden turmoil in your life. The unspoken message of Sukkot is simple but subering – ‘one day it can be you.’ Therefore, our moral obligation is to support those affected by war, misplacement and other misfortunes.
    
3. Unity and Inclusion: A sukkah is a traditional place for welcoming guests. The simplicity and vulnerability of the sukkah is something everyone can share equally, regardless of status or wealth. Therefore, Sukkot is a reminder to spend time and have conversations with those you don’t normally socialise with.
    
4. Joy and Gratitude: Sukkot is called the "Festival of Joy" (Z’man Simchateinu), and the sukkah represents the joy that comes from spiritual fulfilment rather than material abundance. Despite its simplicity, the sukkah is meant to be a place of happiness and gratitude, symbolising contentment in what you have in an immaterial world rather than financial ambitions.
    

May this festival bring us a sense of perspective, meaning and joy.

Chag Sameach,

Rabbi Igor