Chapter M: Jung, 1917

CUSTOM IN RELIGION

RELIGION, they say, is only custom. I might agree with this if the ‘only’ were left out. Customs are the flowers of civilization. You can tell a man’s education, yea, even much of his character, by his habits. Morality, ethics, are words derived from roots denoting that which is acknowledged and adopted by the people as right and proper. Manners and usages are the silent compact, the unwritten law which preserve the proprieties of civilized society.

Religion will not come to our aid the moment we call for her; she must be loved and cherished at all times if she is to prove our true friend in need. Much of the present indifference of our young people is directly traceable to the absence of all religious observances in their homes. Piety is the fruit of religious customs.

G. GOTTHEIL, 1896.

‘IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE TIMES’

WAS Judaism ever ‘in accordance with the times’? Did Judaism ever correspond with the views of dominant contemporaries? Was it ever convenient to be a Jew or a Jewess?

Was the Judaism of our ancestors in accordance with the times, when compelled by the Egyptians to bend their necks during centuries under the yoke of slavery and to suffer their babes to be buried in the waves of the Nile? Was the Judaism of the Maccabees in accordance with their times, when they resisted to the utmost the introduction of Grecian manners prevailing in their days? When the Temple at Jerusalem was destroyed by the Romans and the sons of Judah were slaughtered, sold in slave markets, cast before wild beasts or scattered through every country then known; when Worldly Wisdom would have taught, ‘Now it is certainly impossible for us to remain Jews’――did not the Hillels[67] and the son of Zakkai[68] teach yet more earnestly the holiness of our laws and our customs, and so order and regulate things that not a fibre might be lost from the ancestral sanctuary? Was that Judaism in accordance with the times, for which, during the centuries following the Dispersion, our fathers suffered in all lands, through all the various periods, the most degrading oppression, the most biting contempt, and a thousand-fold death and persecution?

And yet _we_ would make it the aim and scope of Judaism to be always ‘in accordance with the times’!

SAMSON RAPHAEL HIRSCH, 1854.
(_Trans. Isaac Leeser._)

FAITH

WHILE faith and reason are blended in the religion of Israel as perhaps in no other, it is not the second place that must be assigned to faith. From the foot of Sinai there is wafted to us the voice declaring with the most perfect childlike faith, ‘_All that the Lord hath spoken we will do and we will hear_’. It is not surprising that a people who, in their infancy, could give utterance to an expression of trust so childlike, yet so sublime, should produce a prophet who summed up the whole of Israel’s law in the words, ‘_The just shall live by his faith_’.

SIMEON SINGER, 1906.

צִיּוֹן הֲלֹא תִשְׁאֲלִי

ODE TO ZION

(HYMN FOR THE FAST OF AB)

ART thou not, Zion, fain
To send forth greetings from thy sacred rock
Unto thy captive train,
Who greet thee as the remnants of thy flock?
Take Thou on every side,
East, west and south and north, their greetings multiplied.
Sadly he greets thee still,
The prisoner of hope who, day and night,
Sheds ceaseless tears, like dew on Hermon’s hill.
Would that they fell upon thy mountain’s height!

Harsh is my voice when I bewail thy woes,
But when in fancy’s dreams
I see thy freedom, forth its cadence flows,
Sweet as the harps that hung by Babel’s streams.
The glory of the Lord will ever be
Thy sole and perfect light;
No need hast thou then, to illumine thee
Of sun by day, or moon and stars by night.
I would that, where God’s spirit was of yore
Poured out unto thy holy ones, I might
There too my soul outpour.

Oh, who will lead me on
To seek the spots where, in far distant years,
The angels in their glory dawned upon
Thy messengers and seers!
Oh, who will give me wings
That I may fly away,
And there, at rest from all my wanderings,
The ruins of my heart among thy ruins lay?
I’ll bend my face unto thy soil, and hold
Thy stones as special gold.
And when in Hebron I have stood beside
My fathers’ tombs, then will I pass in turn
Thy plains and forest wide,
Until I stand on Gilead and discern
Mount Hor and Mount Abarim, ’neath whose crest
Thy luminaries twain, thy guides and beacons rest.

Thy air is life unto my soul, thy grains
Of dust are myrrh, thy streams with honey flow
Naked and barefoot to thy ruined fanes
How gladly would I go!
To where the ark was treasured, and in dim
Recesses dwelt the holy cherubim.

Perfect in beauty, Zion, how in thee
Do love and grace unite!
The souls of thy companions tenderly
Turn unto thee; thy joy was their delight,
And weeping they lament thy ruin now.
In distant exile, for thy sacred height
They long, and towards thy gates in prayer they bow.
Shinar and Pathros! come they near to thee?
Naught are they by thy light and right divine.
To what can be compared the majesty
Of thy anointed line?
To what the singers, seers, and Levites thine?
The rule of idols fails and is cast down;
Thy power eternal is, from age to age thy crown.

The Lord desires thee for His dwelling-place
Eternally, and bless’d
Is he whom God has chosen for the grace
Within thy courts to rest.
Happy is he that watches, drawing near,
Until he sees thy glorious lights arise,
And over whom thy dawn breaks full and clear,
Set in the Orient skies.
But happiest he, who, with exultant eyes,
The bliss of thy redeemed ones shall behold,
And see thy youth renewed as in the days of old.

YEHUDAH HALEVI, 1145.
(_Trans. Alice Lucas._)

THE ETERNAL CITY OF THE ETERNAL PEOPLE

JERUSALEM, the hearth of pure religion, the home of prophecy, the sacred fountain of the word of God, is the very emblem of the deathlessness of the spirit. With its 4,000 years’ history it is coeval with the Jew, and is as unique among cities as is Israel among the nations. Like the Jew, this Holy City of Israel――the spiritual capital of humanity that has for ages been the magnetic pole of the love and reverence of mankind――is deathless; fire and sword and all the engines of destruction have been hurled against it in vain. A score of conquerors have held it as their choicest prize; and more than a dozen times has it been utterly destroyed. The Assyrians burnt it and deported its population; the Romans slew a million of its inhabitants, razed it to the ground, passed the ploughshare over it, and strewed its furrows with salt; Hadrian banished its very name from the lips of men, changed it to ‘Aelia Capitolina’, and prohibited any Jew from entering its precincts on pain of death. Persians and Arabs, Barbarians and Crusaders and Turks, took it and retook it, ravaged it and burnt it; and yet, marvellous to relate, it ever rises from its ashes to renewed life and glory. And now, on the very day that 2,080 years ago Judah Maccabee rescued it from the heathens, the Holy City has passed into British occupation! What a privilege it is to have lived to see such a world-historic event! A new future, with undreamt-of possibilities, opens before this eternal city of the eternal people. But in the future, as in the past, it will proclaim the prophetic teaching of the Maccabean festival: ‘_Not by might, nor by power, but by My spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts_’.

J. H. HERTZ, _at the Thanksgiving
Service for the Taking of Jerusalem
by H. M. Forces_, 1917.

* * * * *

ARISE, shine, for thy light is come
And the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee.

Lift up thine eyes round about, and see:
They all are gathered together, and come to thee;
Thy sons come from far,
And thy daughters are borne on the side.
Then thou shalt see and be radiant,
And thy heart shall throb and be enlarged.

Whereas thou hast been forsaken and hated,
So that no man passed through thee,
I will make thee an eternal excellency,
A joy of many generations.

Thy sun shall no more go down,
Neither shall thy moon withdraw itself,
For the Lord shall be thine everlasting light,
And the days of thy mourning shall be ended.

ISAIAH 60. 1, 4‒5, 15, 20.

רֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה

NEW YEAR

INTO the tomb of ages past
Another year hath now been cast;
Shall time unheeded take its flight,
Nor leave one ray of higher light
That on man’s pilgrimage may shine
And lead his soul to spheres divine?

Ah! which of us, if self-reviewed,
Can boast unfailing rectitude?
Who can declare his wayward will
More prone to righteous deed than ill?
Or, in his retrospect of life,
No traces find of passion’s strife?

With firm resolve your bosoms nerve
The God of right alone to serve;
Speech, thought, and act to regulate
By what His perfect laws dictate;
Nor from His holy precepts stray,
By worldly idols lured away.

Peace to the house of Israel:
May joy within it ever dwell!

PENINA MOÏSE, 1838.

WRITTEN AND SEALED

‘TO be inscribed in the Book of Life.’ This must be understood in a spiritual sense. When a man clings to the love of God, and, putting his trust in His infinite mercy, takes upon himself the yoke of the Kingdom of heaven――he therewith inscribes himself in the Book of Life. Whereas the man, a slave to his passions, who so loses his belief in the all-embracing love of God that he fails to repent and return to his Father in heaven, this despairing of the love of God is equivalent to his being inscribed――God forbid――in the Book of Death.

ISRAEL BAALSHEM, 1700.

* * * * *

IN a higher than their literal sense the words of the liturgy are true. Our destiny――our spiritual destiny――is written down on New Year’s Day and sealed on the Day of Atonement. We write it down in the penitence with which we greet the dawn of the year, we seal it with the amendment which we solemnly vow on the Fast of Kippur. The time for penitence is with us; the Fast with its supreme task awaits us. Let our endeavours to see ourselves as we really are, our sorrow for our shortcomings, the unrest of our unshriven soul, prepare us for the final act of atonement. The Day of Atonement shall lead us, with hearts bowed in submission, to the Divine throne; and God will lovingly lift us up, absolved, forgiven, filled with the spirit of faith and loving obedience. We shall begin to live at last, to live before Him, to live the true life which is inspired by the constant thought of His presence.

MORRIS JOSEPH.

THE SHOFAR

THE Scriptural injunction of the Shofar for the New Year’s Day has a profound meaning. It says: Awake, ye sleepers, and ponder your deeds; remember your Creator, and go back to Him in penitence. Be not of those that miss realities in their hunt after shadows, and waste their years in seeking after vain things which cannot profit or deliver. Look well to your souls and consider your acts; forsake each of you his evil ways and thoughts, and return to God, so that He may have mercy upon you.

MOSES MAIMONIDES, 1180.

* * * * *

FOR this commandment which I command thee this day, it is not too hard for thee, neither is it far off. It is not in heaven that thou shouldst say: ‘Who shall go up for us to heaven, and bring it unto us, and make us to hear it, that we may do it?’ Neither is it beyond the sea, that thou shouldst say: ‘Who shall go over the sea for us, and bring it unto us, and make us to hear it, that we may do it?’ But the word is very nigh unto thee, in thy mouth, and in thy heart, that thou mayest do it.

DEUTERONOMY 30. 11‒14.

* * * * *

THE Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?

PSALM 27. 1.

MY KING

ERE time began, ere age to age had thrilled,
I waited in His storehouse, as He willed.
He gave me being; but, my years fulfilled,
I shall be summoned back before the King.

Thou gavest me a light my path to guide,
To prove my heart’s recesses still untried;
And as I went, Thy voice in warning cried:
‘Child! fear thou Him who is thy God and King!’

Erring, I wandered in the wilderness,
In passion’s grave nigh sinking, powerless;
Now deeply I repent, in sore distress,
That I kept not the statutes of the King!

Thine is the love, O God, and Thine the grace
That folds the sinner in its mild embrace;
Thine the forgiveness bridging o’er the space
’Twixt man’s works and the task set by the King.

Unheeding all my sins, I cling to Thee!
I know that mercy will Thy footstool be;
Before I call, oh! do Thou answer me,
For nothing dare I claim of Thee, my King.

MOSES BEN NACHMAN, 1300.
(_Trans. Alice Lucas._)

THE LORD IS KING, THE LORD WAS KING,
THE LORD SHALL BE KING FOR EVER AND EVER[69]

THY people in passionate worship cry
One to another the Lord is King.
In awe of the marvels beneath the sky
Each explains that the Lord was King.
One sound from Thy pastures ascends on high:
The chant that the Lord shall be King for ever.
_The Lord is King, the Lord was King,
the Lord shall be King for ever and ever._

The universe throbs with Thy pauseless praise,
Chorus eternal, the Lord is King.
Thy glory is cried from the dawn of days,
Worshippers calling the Lord was King.
And ever the Saints who shall witness Thy ways
Shall cry that the Lord shall be King for ever.
_The Lord is King, the Lord was King,
the Lord shall be King for ever and ever._

ELEAZAR KALIR, 8th cent.
(_Trans. I. Zangwill._)

IF NOT HIGHER

AND the Rebbe[70] of Nemirov, every Friday Morning early at Sliches[71]-time, disappeared, melted into thin air! He was not to be found anywhere, either in the synagogue or in the two houses-of-study, or worshipping in some Minyan,[72] and most certainly not at home. His door stood open, people went in and out as they pleased――no one ever stole anything from the Rebbe――but there was not a soul in the house.

Where can the Rebbe be?

Where should he be, with the Solemn Days so near, if not in heaven? Jews need a livelihood, peace, health; they wish to be good and pious, and their sins are great, and Satan with his thousand eyes spies out the world from one end to the other, and he sees, and accuses, and tells tales――and who shall help if not the Rebbe? So thought the people.

Once, however, there came a Lithuanian――and he laughed! You know the Lithuanian Jews――they rather despise books of devotion, but stuff themselves with the Talmud and the Codes. And who, I ask you, is going to argue with a _Litvack_?

What becomes of the Rebbe?

‘I don’t know, and I don’t care’, says he, shrugging his shoulders, and all the while (what it is to be a Lithuanian!) determined to find out!

The very same evening, soon after prayers, the Lithuanian steals into the Rebbe’s room, lays himself down under the Rebbe’s bed, and lies low. He intends to stay there all night, to find out where the Rebbe goes, and what he does at Sliches-time.

Day has not broken when he hears the call to prayer. The Rebbe has been awake some time. The Lithuanian has heard him sighing and groaning for a whole hour. Whoever has heard the groaning of the Nemirover Rebbe knows what sorrow for All-Israel, what distress of mind, found voice in every groan.

After that the Lithuanian hears the people rise and leave the house. Once more it is quiet and dark, only a very little moonlight comes in through the shutter. He confessed afterwards, did the Lithuanian, that when he found himself alone with the Rebbe, terror took hold of him. But a Lithuanian is dogged. He quivers and quakes like a fish, but he does not budge.

At last the Rebbe (long life to him!) rises in his turn. He goes to the wardrobe, and takes out a packet which proves to be the dress of a peasant: linen trousers, high boots, a pelisse, a wide felt hat, and a long and broad leather belt studded with brass nails. The Rebbe puts them on.

Out of the pockets of the pelisse dangles the end of a thick cord, a peasant’s cord.

On his way out, the Rebbe steps aside into the kitchen, stoops, takes a hatchet from under the bed, puts it into his belt, and leaves the house. The Lithuanian trembles, but he persists.

* * * * *

A fearful Solemn Day hush broods over the dark streets, broken not infrequently by a cry of supplication from some little Minyan, or the moan of some sick person behind a window. The Rebbe keeps to the street side, and walks in the shadow of the houses. He glides from one to the other, the Lithuanian after him. And the Lithuanian hears the sound of his own heart-beats mingle with the heavy footfall of the Rebbe; but he follows on, and together they emerge from the town.

Behind the town stands a little wood. The Rebbe (long life to him!) enters it. He walks on thirty or forty paces, and then he stops beside a small tree. And the Lithuanian, with amazement, sees the Rebbe take his hatchet and strike the tree. He sees the Rebbe strike blow after blow, he hears the tree creak and snap. And the little tree falls, and the Rebbe splits it up into logs, and the logs into splinters. Then he makes a bundle, binds it round with the cord, throws it on his shoulder, replaces the hatchet in his belt, leaves the wood, and goes back into the town.

In one of the back streets he stops beside a poor, tumble-down little house, and taps at the window.

‘Who is there?’ cries a frightened voice within.

The Lithuanian knows it to be the voice of a Jewess, a sick Jewess.

‘I’, answers the Rebbe, in the peasant tongue.

‘Who is I?’ inquires the voice, further.

And the Rebbe answers again in the Little-Russian speech:

‘Vassil.’

‘Which Vassil? And what do you want, Vassil?’

‘I have wood to sell’, says the sham peasant, ‘very cheap, for next to nothing.’ And without further ado he goes in. The Lithuanian steals in behind him, and sees, in the grey light of dawn, a poor room with poor, broken furniture. In the bed lies a sick Jewess huddled up in rags, who says bitterly:

‘Wood to sell――and where am I, a poor widow, to get money to buy it?’

‘I will give you a six-groschen worth on credit.’

‘And how am I ever to repay you?’ groans the poor woman.

‘Foolish creature!’ the Rebbe upbraids her. ‘See here: you are a poor sick Jewess, and I am willing to trust you with the little bundle of wood; I believe that in time you will repay me. And you, you have such a great, mighty God, and you do not trust Him! Not even to the amount of a miserable six groschen for a bundle of wood!’

‘And who is to light the stove?’ groans the widow. ‘Do I look like getting up to do it, and my son away at work?’

‘I will also light the stove for you’, said the Rebbe. And the Rebbe, while he laid the wood in the stove, repeated, groaning, the first part of the Sliches. Then, when the stove was alight and the wood crackled cheerily, he repeated, more gaily, the second part of the Sliches. He repeated the third part when the fire had burnt itself out, and he shut the stove doors.

* * * * *

The Lithuanian, who saw all this, remained with the Rebbe as one of his followers.

And, later, when any one told how the Rebbe early every morning at Sliches-time raised himself and flew up into heaven, the Lithuanian, instead of laughing, added quietly:

‘If not higher.’

J. L. PERETZ.
(_Trans. Helena Frank._)

יוֹם כִּפּוּר

DAY OF ATONEMENT

TO Thee we give ourselves to-day,
Forgetful of the world outside;
We tarry in Thy house, O Lord,
From eventide to eventide.

From Thy all-searching, righteous eye
Our deepest heart can nothing hide;
It crieth up to Thee for peace
From eventide to eventide.

Who could endure, shouldst Thou, O God,
As we deserve, for ever chide?
We therefore seek Thy pardoning grace
From eventide to eventide.

O may we lay to heart how swift
The years of life do onward glide;
So learn to live that we may see
Thy light at our life’s eventide.

G. GOTTHEIL.

FORGIVE thy neighbour the hurt that he hath done thee;
And then thy sins shall be pardoned when thou prayest.
Man cherisheth anger against man;
And doth he seek healing from the Lord?
Upon a man like himself he hath no mercy;
And doth he make supplication for his own sins?

ECCLESIASTICUS 28. 2‒4.

THE MESSAGE OF YOM KIPPUR

IN large letters, so that even he that runs may read, does Yom Kippur spell forth the fundamentals of Judaism, of religion, of the higher life of man. Sin is not an evil power whose chains the children of flesh must helplessly drag towards a weary tomb. We can always shake off its yoke; and what is more, we need never assume its yoke. An ancient fable tells us of distant oceans with mountainous rocks of magnet of such terrific power that wreck and ruin befell any ship venturing near them. Instantly the iron nails would fly out of the ship, bolts and fastenings would be torn away by that magnetic force; the vessel would become nothing more than so many planks of wood, and all on board fall a prey to the hungry waters. Sins there are that, likewise, unhinge all our stays of character, rob us of the restraints of past habits and education, and leave us helpless playthings on the billows of temptation and passion. Yet a man is the pilot of his life’s barque, and can at all times steer it so as never to come near those mountains of destruction and death.

And, secondly, there is an atonement for man’s sins. We may repair the ravages of sin, rebuild the shifting foundations of character, and join again the sundered strands of our spiritual fabric. We spurn the old pagan fatalism which declares that there is no forgiveness for sin. Nature provides some escape from physical disease; shall the soul, injured by temptation’s fire, scarred by sin, not be able to recover its pristine strength and beauty? No matter how harsh nature and man may seem, the God of Eternal Right holds a deep pity that can atone and save, bury not only sin, but its grave and graveyard with it!

As clear as a bell resounds the third and greatest teaching of Yom Kippur: man himself must prepare himself for atonement, and no priest or mediator can prepare or work atonement for him. Virtue is victory by the individual himself over temptation that assails him. The battle cannot be fought nor the victory won by another. The human soul, wandering on the devious labyrinthine paths of sin, must itself essay to forsake the Way of Sorrow and proceed on the Way of Salvation. This is the most splendid, the most momentous fact in human life: that though man cannot always even half control his destiny, God has given the reins of man’s conduct altogether into his hands.

No wonder that the Synagogue has ever looked upon this day of prayer, fasting, and humiliation as a _festival_. A generation or two ago our forefathers stood robed in white in the Synagogue, during the entire Atonement Day. Originally these white garments were not worn as reminders of the grave; they were an outward sign of the festal character of this Day, appointed for life’s spiritual renewal. ‘When men are summoned before an earthly ruler’, says the Jerusalem Talmud, ‘to defend themselves against some charge, they appear downcast and dressed in black like mourners. Israel appears before God on the Atonement Day attired in white as if going to a feast, because he is confident that as soon as he returns penitently to his Maker, He will not condemn, but will abundantly pardon.’

J. H. HERTZ, 1900.

אָמְנָם כֵּן־סָלַחְתִּי

‘FORGIVEN’[73]

RAISE to Thee this my plea, take my pray’r,
Sin unmake for Thy sake and declare,
‘Forgiven!’

Tears, regret, witness set in sin’s place;
Uplift trust from the dust to Thy face――
‘Forgiven!’

Voice that sighs, tear-filled eyes, do not spurn;
Weigh and pause, plead my cause, and return
‘Forgiven!’

Yea, off-rolled――as foretold――clouds impure,
Zion’s folk, free of yoke, O assure
‘Forgiven!’

YOMTOB OF YORK, 1190.
(_Trans. I. Zangwill._)

תֶר מַלְכוּת

CONFESSION

SHAME-STRICKEN, bending low,
My God, I come before Thee, for I know
That even as Thou on high
Exalted art in power and majesty,
So weak and frail am I:
That perfect as Thou art,
So I deficient am in every part.

Thou art all-wise, all-good, all-great, divine,
Yea, Thou art God: eternity is Thine;
While I, a thing of clay,
The creature of a day,
Pass shadow-like, a breath, that comes and flees away.

My God, I know my sins are numberless,
More than I can recall to memory
Or tell their tale: yet some will I confess,
Even a few, though as a drop it be
In all the sea.

I will declare my trespasses and sin,
And peradventure silence then may fall
Upon their waves and billows’ raging din,
And Thou wilt hear from heaven, when I call,
And pardon all.

My God, if mine iniquity
Too great for all endurance be,
Yet for Thy name’s sake pardon me.
For if in Thee I may not dare
To hope, who else will hear my prayer?
Therefore, although Thou slay me, yet
In Thee my faith and trust is set:
And though Thou seekest out my sin,
From Thee to Thee I fly to win
A place of refuge, and within
Thy shadow from Thy anger hide,
Until Thy wrath be turned aside.
Unto Thy mercy I will cling
Until Thou hearken, pitying:
Nor will I quit my hold of Thee
Until Thy blessing light on me.

Remember, O my God, I pray,
How Thou hast formed me out of clay,
What troubles set upon my way.
Do Thou not, then, my deeds requite
According to my sins aright,
But with Thy mercy infinite.
For well I know, through good and ill,
That Thou in love hast chastened still,
Afflicting me in faithfulness,
That Thou my latter end may’st bless.

SOLOMON IBN GABIROL, 1050.
(_Trans. Alice Lucas._)

YOM KIPPUR MEDITATIONS

I

MY soul, be not senseless, like a beast, deeply sunk;――be not drowsy, with passion drunk.――Hewn from reason’s mind thou art;――from wisdom’s well thy waters start,――from the Lord’s heavenly realm!

My soul, let not the body’s wanton pleasures capture thee,――its showy treasures not enrapture thee;――they melt away――like the dew before the day,――they avail naught when they begin,――and their end is shame and sin.

My soul, look carefully back――on thy pilgrim’s track;――all cometh from the dust,――and thither return it must.――Whatever has been moulded and built,――when its time is fulfilled,――must go back to the ground――where its material was found.――Death is life’s brother.――They keep fast to one another,――each taking hold of one end of their plunder,――and none can tear them asunder.――Soon thou wilt come――to thine eternal home,――where thou must show thy work and receive thy wages――on rightful scales and gauges,――or good or bad, according to the worth――of thy deeds on earth.

Therefore get thee up, and to thy Master pray――by night and day;――bow down before Him, be meek,――and let thy tears bedew thy cheek.――Seek the Lord, thy Light,――with all thy might;――walk in meekness, pursue the right;――so that with His mercy-screen the Master――hide thee in the day of disaster.――Then thou shalt shine like the heavens bright,――and like the sun when going forth in might;――and o’er thy head――shall be spread――the rays――of the sun of grace――that brings――healing and joy in his wings.

BACHYA IBN PAKUDAH, 1040.
(_Trans. M. Jastrow._)

II

FORGET thine anguish,
Vexed heart, again.
Why shouldst thou languish,
With earthly pain?
The husk shall slumber,
Bedded in clay,
Silent and sombre,
Oblivion’s prey.
But, Spirit immortal,
Thou at Death’s portal
Tremblest with fear.
If he caress thee,
Curse thee, or bless thee,
Thou must draw near,
From him the worth of thy works to hear.

Why, full of terror,
Compassed with error,
Trouble thy heart
For thy mortal part?
The soul flies home――
The corpse is dumb.
Of all thou didst have
Follows naught to the grave.
Thou fliest thy nest,
Swift as a bird to thy place of rest.

Life is a vine-branch;
A vintager, Death.
He threatens and lowers
More near with each breath.
Then hasten, arise!
Seek God, O my soul!
For time quickly flies,
Still far is the goal.
Vain heart praying dumbly,
Learn to prize humbly
The meanest of fare.
Forget all thy sorrow,
Behold, death is there!

Dove-like lamenting,
Be full of repenting;
Lift vision supernal
To raptures eternal;
On every occasion
Seek lasting salvation.
Pour thy heart out in weeping
While others are sleeping.
Pray to Him when all’s still,
Performing His will.
And so shall the Angel of Peace be thy warden,
And guide thee at last to the heavenly garden.

SOLOMON IBN GABIROL, 1050.
(_Trans. Emma Lazarus_).

THE INFINITE MERCIES OF GOD

THE Lord, the Lord is a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness and truth; keeping lovingkindness for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin.

EXODUS 34. 6, 7.

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MAY it be Thy will, O God, that we return to Thee in perfect penitence, so that we may not be ashamed to meet our fathers in the life to come.

Unite our hearts, O God, to fear Thy name; keep us far from what Thou hatest; bring us near to what Thou lovest; and deal mercifully with us for Thy name’s sake.

May it be Thy will, O God, that love and peace and brotherliness dwell among us! May our hopes of Heaven be fulfilled! Grant that the good inclination may uphold us. Fill us with the desire to fear Thy name, and do Thou give us our soul’s peace. Amen.

TALMUD.

BROTHERHOOD

AT the beginning of the Atonement service the most venerable men in the congregation solemnly repeat from the Almemor[74]: ‘With the permission of the Court on High, and with the permission of the Congregation below, we declare it permitted to pray with hardened transgressors’. Why this custom? In some communities of the Middle Ages there were persons who, by their conduct, had placed themselves outside the pale of Judaism; cowardly apostates, for example, who sold their souls; informers, who spread broadcast false accusations against their brethren; insubordinates, outcasts, criminals. Throughout the year these never sought spiritual fellowship with their brethren. On Yom Kippur, however, they would steal into some corner of the synagogue and join the worshippers in prayer. The Rabbis thereupon instituted this solemn declaration, in order to proclaim in most unmistakable terms that, no matter what is a man’s mode of life――slanderer, apostate, outcast――he is still a brother. ‘_We_ have transgressed, _we_ have dealt treacherously, _we_ have robbed,’ do we pray. We associate ourselves with the most forlorn souls that sin in darkness, because we recognize that society――we ourselves――are largely responsible for their actions. Many a time has our evil example misled others, and become a stumbling-block in the way of the blind. And all our Yom Kippur vows to rise to a higher life are useless, unless we endeavour to raise others who have fallen. A traveller was crossing mountain heights of untrodden snow alone. He struggled bravely against the sense of sleep which weighed down his eyelids, but it was fast stealing over him, and he knew that if he fell asleep death would inevitably follow. At this crisis his foot struck against a heap lying across his path. Stooping down, he found it to be a human body half buried in the snow. The next moment he held him in his arms, and was rubbing and chafing the frozen man’s limbs. The effort to restore another unto life brought back to himself warmth and energy, and was the means of saving both. The same law obtains in the realm of the soul. In order that our spiritual vitality may quicken into new life, we must help others in highest matters of faith and hope.

‘Heaven’s gate is shut
To him who comes alone;
Save thou a soul,
And it shall save thine own.’

J. H. HERTZ, 1898.

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