This seems like a description of a litany of requests, even for the requirements of a religious observance. And I am wondering, is it significant only because it is about a religious observance. Because as poetry, this one seems easy to criticize. As aside from one's 'alphabet of woe,' which I thought was quite original, I was not distracted from the litany by the few other phrases that made me think abstractly, like 'the mountain of night will fade' or 'to gaze across the desert of your heart.' And I don't understand what being 'numerous' means. Such a let down after all the meat we found on the bone MA tossed us with that tiny Dickinson querry.

Hi NP,

Being numerous means having abundant descendants as God promised when He introduced His covenant with Abraham:

And he brought him forth abroad, and said, Look now toward heaven, and tell the stars, if thou be able to number them: and he said unto him, So shall thy seed be. (Gen 15:5)

The Hebrew/ Christian Scripture, overall, is a series of covenants God makes with with His people.

In short (very short), through these covenants, God makes oaths "I will be their God. They shall be my people." In these series of covenants, God promises to provide for his people, forgive their sins, make them abundant and numerous, make them a mighty people, deliver them from enemies, which are ultimately sin and resulting death. The people in turn make oaths to worship God, obey Him, make offerings, repent.

Approached with a sincere eye to spirituality and not simply custom, Yom Kippur is a powerful and profound religious observation, potentially infusing this namesake poem with a strong foundation of meaning. Meaning, which, I think, Shultz, built on beautifully.

Sometimes a poem with the theme of religious observation fails in that, once it mentions it custom, it flat-lines on the name-dropped short-hand the and the corresponding cliches. I think Schultz avoided those short-hand failures and spoke to the heart of Yom Kippur-- of what is a man guilty and for what can a man be forgiven by his God?

I'd be thrilled if any one of the pro- Yom Kippur critiques might influence somebody to read this week's poem more positively.

I've enjoyed reading your critiques, Waltz, and can appreciate your point of view. But I can't help but compare the words of Yom Kippur with the words from Creeley's "Rain" that august posted.

What am I to myself
that must be remembered,
insisted upon,
so often? ...

In contrast, five lines from Schultz start

You are asked to...

and I don't get the sense that he personally embraces the admonitions or that he believes anyone else in the congregation would either. So for me it's not the intrinsic value of a Yom Kippur that is in question; it's a question of whether it is accepted personally in spirit and not just as a yearly ritual.

Schultz may not have intended to leave me speculating thus, but ....
   what can I say?

Best wishes, V.

Waltz: The Hebrew/ Christian Scripture, overall, is a series of covenants God makes with with His people.

The truth is the truth. There is no Hebrew/Christian Scripture. What is that all about? There are the Hebrew Scriptures (ordered as they thought proper) and the Christian Scriptures (that’s a whole other story): that includes the Hebrew Scripture ordered differently (so Malachi could logically lead into the New Testament). There is not a “series” of covenants to the Jew. There is a covenant (perhaps renewed). And…there is a New Covenant according to Christians (ask and I will provide chapter and verse). I grow tired of pussy footing around. The New Covenant is, in and of itself, inherently Anti-Semitic. Period.

The New Testament? What does that inherently imply about the Old Testament?

Good morning Nu,

what's time....

I agree with you. I shrugged, observed passing ire for perceived pretentiousness, and decided this an attempt at teaching.

I've no Jewish friends, I know nothing of the religion itself and very little of their observances. I actually don't care, because for me, unless I know someone somewhat close, I don't much concern myself with their observances.

Islam I know much more, Buddhism even, Christianity intimately.

I read MA any visit.

regards

Yo

HAP,

on poemsfray, I've learned that when a broadly-known religious/ spiritual reference is made, it's best for me to give it more than a careless nod toward understanding.

there was a particular and recent instance of Tao (Dao) which i found myself on the ignorant end of understanding. i thought it was a cool word to (mis)appropriate, turns out it's considered a holy abstract to those who embrace it. i was sorry to have erred on someone's spiritual tenet.

similarly, Yom Kippur. while it can be practiced as simply a cultural observance, in its spiritual/ religious foundation, it's profound and ancient and speaks of God's covenants with His people. In my critique and interpretation, i wanted to honor that, instead of beginning from a casual cultural understanding.

shouldn't a respectful religious sensibility be applied when reading a poem about a religious reality?

I won't argue this: The New Covenant is, in and of itself, inherently Anti-Semitic. Period. only that this diverse community in which i work is home to a significant number of Messianic Jews. they asset that there's no tension between the old covenant and the new. only that there's palpable tension between the adherents of the old covenant and the adherents of the old and new covenant.

So for me it's not the intrinsic value of a Yom Kippur that is in question; it's a question of whether it is accepted personally in spirit and not just as a yearly ritual.

Virgilus, I agree completely. Schultz's narrator is truly wondering whether he can be atoned for his numerous sins, which he lists in detail, in a single Day of Atonement.

The poem, for me, is not about the Jewish religion (or any religion which offers atonement) but about the person listening. Can he believe atonement? And even if he does, can be believe he is worthy of being atoned?

To me, this is a universal question for anyone examining his life.

The poem, for me, is not about the Jewish religion (or any religion which offers atonement) but about the person listening. Can he believe atonement? And even if he does, can be believe he is worthy of being atoned?

To me, this is a universal question for anyone examining his life.

and yet the title is Yom Kippur. and the narrator is examining these possibilities within the context of the ancient ritual. i think a casual declension of that reality is a disservice to the poem and a disrespect to the adherents of the ritual.

Waltz…

Being of an atheistic bent in a literal sense, to take something positive out of this poem, would amount to something of a false positive. One thing I could imagine though, is that if one were an Israeli nationalist and of the Jewish faith, then I could appreciate where he/she might use the moment to reflect upon the current turmoil and not so much as to seek atonement, but to at least re-contemplate anew how one's civic responsibilities might run counter to one's religious expectations. And learn to accept the demands of the former as reality, while acknowledging the consequences of the latter as an ultimate rudder to steer one's ethical journey through the battle and eventually toward heaven.

It is very easy for me to separate the two ideas. I grew up in a world where church and state were, on the face of it, two different institutions. Two different ideas. My freedom and well being as a citizen was totally separate from my religious experience and as a result it is why I say I am an atheist in a literal sense. That is to say, I accept the moniker, but a true description of my spirituality does not fit into any category of the naming process, except that one. I think you can be an historian of religion and not believe in God at all. I think you can believe in God and know nothing about history. But more important than why you believe or do not believe, for me, is how you manage to tolerate that choice. And because I believe in that choice, I look to the state to have a binding ethics and make all citizens answerable in this life while allowing the discussion to flare over what sins govern the afterlife to an affiliate religious interpretation.

I see the world as at war with 'states' of mind that know no such separation of the two ideas nor offer a choice in determining them. They seem to feel compelled to punish in this life all sins against the afterlife. Reason, is not an option. So contemplating atonement for an individual in one of those 'states' includes strapping on an explosive belt or firing a rocket to initiate one's ride to heaven. So that Israeli nationalist I imagine taking a moment to reflect when being asked to consider the atonement ritual of Yom Kippur might in the end love his/her God a little bit by the comparison. Yet, they might not feel that their involved support or physical defense of the homeland requires atonement if they have in an honest and ethical way carried out their civic responsibility.

Hey Waltz, that's positive!

Nelson, old friend. You have Jewish friends. Mainly because there is not a bigoted bone in your body. You would never pre-judge. And when you say you don't care, I know exactly what you mean. You may not tolerate fools, as I recall, but always defended their right to be one. Nice to hear from you. I hope all is well.

The poem, for me, is not about the Jewish religion (or any religion which offers atonement) but about the person listening. Can he believe atonement? And even if he does, can be believe he is worthy of being atoned?

To me, this is a universal question for anyone examining his life.

and yet the title is Yom Kippur. and the narrator is examining these possibilities within the context of the ancient ritual. i think a casual declension of that reality is a disservice to the poem and a disrespect to the adherents of the ritual.

---------------

OK, waltz, I'll clarify my original statement --

The poem, for me, is not about the Jewish religion but about the person listening. Can he believe in atonement? And even if he does, can be believe he is worthy of being atoned?

To me, the narrator in "Yom Kippur" can be a stand-in for any participant in a religious atonement ceremony who wonders whether he is, in fact, worthy of atonement or able to believe in its possibilities.

To me, the narrator in "Yom Kippur" can be a stand-in for any participant in a religious atonement ceremony who wonders whether he is, in fact, worthy of atonement or able to believe in its possibilities.

unless this convinces you differently, we'll have to agree to disagree:

while atonement is a universal human need addressed in many cultural and religious rituals, there's an especial identity to Yom Kippur. Yom Kippur was an atonement ritual (believed to have been) given to the people by their God. It was practiced amongst a people who perceived they had a particularly intimate relationship with their God.

can the narrator, not only experience atonement, but can he experience that particularly intimate atonement?

can he experience an atonement with the particular sweetness of an encounter that requires him to bow your head/ and remain standing,/ and say Amen. ?