Just days before Yom Kippur, Parshat Haazinu gives us a striking image of the way G-d relates to the Jewish people.
“Like an eagle arousing its nest, hovering over its young, spreading its plumes, taking them and carrying them upon its wings" (Devarim 32:11).
Rashi (Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, 1040-1105), focusing on the words “arousing its nest," explains that an eagle does not suddenly descend upon its young. Before approaching the nest, it beats its wings so that the young birds will awaken and be prepared for its arrival.
This is an especially appropriate image for just before Yom Kippur.
The holiest day of the year does not arrive without warning. For an entire month beforehand, during Elul, the shofar is sounded each morning. Then comes Rosh Hashanah, followed by the Ten Days of Repentance. We recite Selichot, add Avinu Malkeinu to our prayers and are reminded repeatedly that Yom Kippur is drawing near.
In his Mishneh Torah, the Rambam (Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, 1138-1204) famously writes that although the blowing of the shofar on Rosh Hashanah is a Divine decree, it also carries a message: “Awake you sleepy ones from your sleep, and you who slumber, arise. Examine your deeds, return in repentance and remember your Creator" (Hilchot Teshuvah 3:4).
Just as Rashi sees the eagle awakening its young before approaching the nest, the Rambam sees the shofar as doing much the same for us. Its purpose is to shake us out of our routine before Yom Kippur arrives.
And that advance warning is itself an act of mercy.
We are given time to look honestly at the year that has passed before standing in synagogue on the holiest day of the year. But hearing the shofar is one thing; allowing it to affect us is another.
It is entirely possible to go through Elul and the Ten Days of Repentance, recite the additional prayers, wish one another a Shana Tova and prepare for the fast without seriously considering what we need to correct.
Perhaps there is someone we have hurt and still owe an apology. Perhaps there is an argument we allowed to go too far, something we said that should never have been said, or an obligation that we have been putting off.
Yom Kippur asks us to look at those things before the fast begins.
The Mishnah teaches that Yom Kippur atones for sins between a person and G-d, but sins between one person and another are not atoned for until the person who was wronged has been appeased (Yoma 8:9).
That teaching makes the days before Yom Kippur particularly important. There are matters that cannot be settled simply by spending a day fasting and praying.
Kol Nidrei cannot take the place of an apology that should have been offered. Nor can Neilah repay money that is owed or repair harm that we refuse to acknowledge. Yom Kippur gives us the opportunity for atonement, but it does not relieve us of the responsibility to make things right with other people.
This brings us back to Rashi’s description of the eagle.
It awakens its young because they need to be ready for what is about to happen. In the same way, the weeks leading up to Yom Kippur give us repeated reminders that the day is approaching and that there are things we should attend to before it does.
In a few days, we will stand before G-d and recite Ashamnu, bagadnu - we have sinned, we have betrayed.
Haazinu reminds us that before that moment arrives, we have the chance to prepare for it.
There are still a few days left. Let’s make sure to use them.