Hope for Tomorrow   

One of the highlights of the Yamim Noraim is that feeling, whatever minyan or shul we go to, of being embraced in the davening by our favorite baalei tefillah. Some people enjoy chazzanus, while others prefer classic niggunim from the past. Most of us, though, have a certain individual or kehillah whom we entrust with our Yom Tov davening, in keeping with their special nusach or style of tefillah.

There’s a famous Biblical story at the end of Malachim I about a man named Navos, a righteous Jew who owned a vineyard next to the wicked King Achav’s palace. The king wanted that piece of property and even offered to pay for it, but Navos refused the offer — it was his ancestral territorial inheritance. Yet when Izevel, Achav’s contemptible wife, saw how distraught her husband was over the non-sale, she told him not to worry, that she’d arrange everything in his favor. And, in her own inimitable evil way, she did. She organized a corrupt tribunal, had Navos dragged into the court, and had him falsely convicted of blaspheming Hashem and the king, punishable by death. He was taken out and stoned, Izevel told Achav everything was now in order, and Achav, hearing Navos was dead (and not asking too many questions), went and claimed his property (causing Eliyahu Hanavi afterward to invoke the famous passage, “haratzachta vegam yarashta — have you murdered and also inherited?”). Both Achav and his wife perished by Hashem’s decree soon after, but the commentaries deal with a fundamental question: Why did Navos, a good man, have to pay with his life?

The midrash explains that Hashem endowed Navos with the most beautiful singing voice of his entire generation. Three times a year, when Am Yisrael were oleh regel to Yerushalayim, Navos would daven on the Har Habayis, and all the nation enjoyed the beauty of his voice. However, his talent got the better of him and made him haughty, and the next time he went to Yerushalayim, he refused to sing until the Jews begged and pleaded with him. One year, he didn’t join the nation at all, refusing to share his G-d-given talents with them. In the worst case, he was punished because he abused those talents instead of sanctifying them, and at the least, he didn’t merit Divine assistance in protecting himself from the evil plot against him.

Sincere baalei tefillah don’t ignore or trivialize Hashem’s generous gifts, and as part of the Jewish music industry, I see this constantly as well — artists using their talents to the fullest extent, stretching themselves to make other Yidden happy. Not a summer goes by that almost every Jewish performer ends up in Camp Simcha, Camp Hasc, the Ohel camps, and the many others out there for the special needs campers.