#masechetyoma #dafyomi #talkingtalmud #thegoat #azazel #yom #yomkippur #avodaservice #repentance #scarlet #whiteandscarlet #scarletthread #dafyomi
Masechet Yoma was filled with details about the requirements for the Kohen Gadol, the order of the day, the sacrifice, the service.
I don't always remember all that I learn from Yardaena Osband and Anne Gordon in the daily podcast of Talking Talmud, but I know how difficult it was to learn about the details of the service involving the goat and the cliff. Although it is difficult to learn about the death of an animal, somehow this ceremony hearkens back to the very heart of Yom Kippur, that we are imperfect and honest repentance is vital to who we are.
As with some of the poems that I have been writing, the beginnings of this poem came to me in my sleep. I have always been moved deeply by the Avoda service because it is a choreographed and interactive. During the service I feel that have been placed back in time which results in emotional reactions, especially as we bow and put our heads to the floor during the re-enactment. Having the chance to write this poem gave me the opportunity to process the strong connections between now and this powerful ceremony and contemplate the meaning behind the fate of the goat.
As I wrote I could hear the words of the piece written by Ishai Ribo, Seder Ha'avodah. To listen to this dramatic piece of music, I have included the link under the poem.
I hope that I have done some small bit of justice to the powerful Avoda service through this poem.
And The Goat Falls
And the goat falls.
He is pushed from behind.
A push of necessity,
of command.
And the Kohen is dressed in gold
And he is washed,
and he changes
to white
and he changes again
And he enters and he exits
And he exits and he enters
the Holy space
And hands are placed
heavily
on the horns of the goat.
Man and goat connect
for a brief moment.
The goat looks at the heavens.
And sins are transferred.
A thousand sins, a million?
For we are but human,
and so imperfect.
And the goat is falling
and we are falling
in our hearts.
And the goat is broken.
And we have sinned.
As we fall we are searching
the crags
of our
ripped souls
We, too, are falling
We, too, are broken.
We are frightened.
And the thread is scarlet.
We are trying to cling
to a branch,
to a rock.
Our hands are raw.
Our knuckles are white.
White as bone,
White as the clouds above
that Isaac viewed on the altar.
And the goat falls.
We are waiting
We are holding our breaths
Our souls are shaking
like the wind blowing in the desert.
We are falling.
Who shall live and who shall die?
Who shall fall and who shall rise?
And the Kohen enters and exits
Again and again
And the colors change
Blood red
White as snow
Gold and white linen
Washing away sin
Washing away imperfections
And the goat tumbles
And the goat is broken
And we are broken.
We are bowing
We are lowering
ourselves to
the floor below
Our heads pressed against
the floor
We feel the grit
on our foreheads
We are there
with the goat
We are humbled.
We are weeping
Tears
For the goat
For his brokenness
For our brokenness
We are tumbling
downward
as we tumble
we search
deep and deeper
Can we find the white in the red?
And the Kohen Gadol
enters the Holy of Holies
He is just a man
dressed in gold
dressed in white
washed and washed again
he stands for us
barefoot
he waits for God
for answers
We are waiting
Does waiting have a color?
Is it white as snow?
Does it shine like gold?
Or is scarlet like blood of
life and death?
The Kohen enters into the room
Gold and red and whites
all mixed together
a kaleidoscope of three.
The shapes forming pointed
patterns of
good and bad intentions.
Linen and breastplate
cliffs and brokenness
souls and voices
silence and prayers
all echo loudly in the desert
You stand for us
Can you un-break us?
We are searching
We are sorry
We search our minds
we beat our breasts
Our hands fall upon our chests
harder,
harder.
Can we beat away our sins?
We fall to the ground
We imagine the goat falling
Careening
And we are broken
And then there is silence
for a moment
for an eternity
And a voice is heard
Baruch Shaym K'vod Malchuto
A bleat
A cry
And red flows
A a string turns from red to white
A mention of the Holy name
and
Ana HaShem
From tent to tent
From outpost to outpost
from then to now
and from now until forever
We listen
We wait
We rise up
The Kohen Gadol emerges
Unscathed
We lift our heads from the floor
There are grains of sand on our foreheads
There are pieces of rock
under our nails
The goat has fallen.
Who will live and who will die?
Who will fall and who will rise?
We are rising
We are rising
Baruch Shaym Kvod Malchuto L'olam Va'ed
And the goat is gone
And we are still but human
Shaken to our core
We are here
The goat is gone
The thread is white.
We lift our eyes to the sky
and then
we bend our heads
We close our eyes and we weep
And the day ends
and the Kohen Gadol changes one final time
One more time he washes
He dons his everyday clothes
and returns to his home.
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