A few thoughts about the radical, remarkable, audacious Seder Ha'Avoda, by Ishay Ribo.

I have a few things to say about Seder Ha'Avoda, an amazing reworking and reimagining of the Yom Kippur liturgy by Ishay Ribo. 

First a brief review for the uninitiated. Every Yom Kippur afternoon we recite a liturgy that recreates the High Priest's service. We recite the sacrifices he brought, the confessions he made, and the response of the crowd. It is the centerpiece of the service.

When the High Priest sacrifices, he splashes blood on the altar and counts:

One
One and one
One and two
One and three, etc

He's counting blood splashes, the splashes of blood that, for various reasons are believed and imagined to effectuate Atonement.

In Ribo's song, the Avoda is told over, but there is no sacrifice. The High Priest makes his confession with the same words that appear in the liturgy:

And thus he would say: “O Lord! Grant atonement for the sins, transgressions, and iniquities which I sinned before you – I and my household.

But when the time comes to count, there is no blood and no splashing. In a beautiful rhyme and rhythm that could only work in Hebrew, Ribo tells us what the crowd, or perhaps the priest himself, is counting:

And if one could recall the flaws, the deficiencies, all the sins and transgressions surely he would count thus: One, one and one, one and two, one and three, one and four, one and five…” and right away he would be ashamed, unable to bear the bitter taste of sin, the shame, the missed opportunity, the loss.

Instead of blood, the priest (or the people) are counting their failures, their sins, their shortcomings, their missed opportunities.

And the crowd responds with the words exactly as they appear in the liturgy:

Then the priests and the people standing in the courtyard, when they heard the name, the explicit Name come out from the mouth of the High Priest, would bow and prostrate themselves, falling on their face ‘Blessed be the name of the glory of his kingdom forever and ever!

Next, comes the second confession and the second count. And while the confession is again verbatim, the count is different yet again:

And if one could recall all the loving-kindness, the goodness, the compassion, and the salvations surely he would count thus: “One, one and one, one and two, one of a thousand, thousands of thousands and myriad myriads of wonderous miracles you have done for us day and night.

And again the people answer in the exact words of the liturgy:

Then the priests and the people standing in the courtyard, when they heard the name, the explicit Name come out from the mouth of the High Priest, would bow and prostrate themselves, falling on their face: ‘Blessed be the name of the glory of his kingdom forever and ever!

The idea here is that Atonement comes from within. We must recognize for ourselves what we have done wrong and recognize for ourselves all that has gone right and engage with both the good and the bad honestly, without vanity or depression, and through this exercise of introspection, a form of Atonement can begin.

This is a new idea, and not what the authors of the liturgy had in mind. They wanted us to remember the pageantry of the Avoda because for them it was witnessing the pageantry itself - the sacrifice and the confessions - that initiated Atonement.

But for Ribo, the idea is modern. We aren't made better by looking outward. We're made better by looking inward.

In the song, both counts are overwhelming. The count of failures is crushing, but the crowd comes to the rescue screaming ‘Blessed be the name of the glory of his kingdom forever and ever! The next count is equally shattering, but this count of blessings is a celebration and again the crowd provides the momentum screaming the same words ‘Blessed be the name of the glory of his kingdom forever and ever!'

For better or for worse. For good or for bad.

‘Blessed be the name of the glory of his kingdom forever and ever!'

Either way

‘Blessed be the name of the glory of his kingdom forever and ever!'

In sickness or in health, for richer or for poorer

‘Blessed be the name of the glory of his kingdom forever and ever!'

And that unconditional response is the beginning of love which is the beginning of Atonement. Loving yourself. Your sins. Your blessings.

To tie this radical idea to something so old, and so revered is nothing short of audacious. And in Ribo's audacity, we have a great gift, because by changing the idea of the Avoda he has given someone who is modern in his thinking a way to connect and find meaning in something old and foreign to contemporary sensibilities. And the miracle is this: his change feels more like a discovery, an uncovering of the essence of the service, rather than an audacious update. (when I think about what is good abut Hasidut, I think about how the great Hasidic masters worked the same trick of making radical changes and updates seem like the uncovering of the original idea.)