The Days of
Awe
The
nine days that span Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are often referred to, by
observant Jews, as the “days of awe.”
The gates of repentance are open, and one is to conduct a rigorous
self-examination, to forgive others who have committed wrong against one, to
ask forgiveness of others whom one has wronged. All this culminates in the
public and private Vidui (confessions) that occur
during the fast of Yom Kippur.
It
is the yearly equivalent of standing on Arafat during the Haj
for Muslims and the Lenten fasts of atonement undertaken by Roman
Catholics. The Days of Awe are intended
to drive home the admission that human beings harm each other; that all of us
stand in need of forgiveness and need also to forgive.
Hugh
Niessenson’s latest book, “The Days of Awe” derives
its title from the Jewish holiday season, but it’s also, more directly about
how people attempt to vainly control the inner and outer circumstances of their
lives. It’s also about family, love and the deepest human need to generate
meaning.
The
novel follows an extended (mostly Jewish)
For
the most part the stories are told in a series of dialogues, both verbal
(between characters) and internal (characters within themselves). You read what Johanna and Artie are saying to
Judy and what Judy replies and also what each are saying within themselves
(what they aren’t saying out loud).
Over
the course of three months, three of the characters die (in very different
ways), one character loses his evangelical faith because of the WTC disaster,
one attempts to use the trappings of faith to stave off the fear of his wife’s
death, new jobs are had, and a baby is about to be born. All the characters face fears of old age and
death.
The
most fascinating character to me was Rabbi Klugman,
who saw his vocation as being focused on bringing Jews back to personal
spirituality. He wanted to see himself
as a beacon for secular Jews who have lost their way in the comfortable
affluent world of East Coast “borscht-haven.”
He maintained an internal world of dead rabbinic scholars who spoke to
him of Talmudic secrets and inventive midrash
on the Torah.
One
got the feeling he didn’t really listen or speak to people
except from the “place” of “being a rabbi.”
And then there was Artie, dear sweet Artie, going to services in memory
of his father, but not really believing there was much to it anymore…..until…..
Anyway,
the days have felt awe-full lately. As a
good friend of mine puts it: “Fall finally fell” and
it seems that there are ever more reasons to meditate, pray, to forgive and be
forgiven.
When
the winds blow, the mud slides and the earth rocks, we are faced with powers,
simple basic earthly powers, repudiating any notion that humanity is “in
control.”
Two
nights ago I was awakened at
Our
bodies go through amazing cycles of illness and healing, birth and death, love
and loss; the cuts on my fingers heal themselves, my
emotions flow from peace to anger to wonder to acceptance in a kind of endless
wheel. Lately I’ve been using the
following wazifa (pardon the probably spelling
errors): Subhannalahi wa
bi-hamdihi, Subhannalah il-azimi astraghfralah 100x daily
between the time I get up and sunrise, that portion of time that is in between
dark and light.
It
emphasizes the greatness of Allah (Al-Azim-The Great
One) and reminds me how much I don’t know about everything, most particularly
about myself, my life, my purpose.
The
readings are about ritual, the unexpected, the willingness to let go and allow
oneself to be moved by will of God, while yet maintain one’s place. They are also about the sense of awe that
attends any massive change, whether it be in the world
or in the heart. It is not a passive act
to be so moved, to stand before the
We
sit, we stand, we kneel, and we bow: the motions of trees that acknowledge
brewing storms and yet provide shelter, who know where and whence they are
rooted.
I
recommend the above wazifa as an inculcation of
devotion—if such is what you desire.