At its very essence, it is a message of teshuvah: The people of Nineveh are told that if they continue on their path, “In forty days Nineveh shall be overturned” (3:4). Their response? Fasting and repentance: Man and beast alike abstain from food and drink. The King of Nineveh himself rises from his throne, dons sackcloth and sits in ashes. G-d sees their sincerity and they are spared. In fact, the Talmud (Rosh HaShanah 16b) cites this story as a proof text that one can change their fate by changing their actions. Such is the power of teshuvah. We even use the approach of Nineveh to teach how we should behave on a public fast day. (See Mishnah Ta’anit 2:1)

But why the story of Yonah? Many narratives in our Tanakh express sincere repentance.

And why, on Yom HaKippurim do we read the story of Nineveh, a gentile community engaged in teshuvah? Are there no stories about the Jewish Nation engaged in teshuva that could serve as an inspiration and teach the power of teshuvah?

The Rav, Rabbi Yosef Dov HaLevi Soloveitchik believed that the story of Yonah teaches a profound lesson: Concern for humanity.

While the sailors of the storm tossed ship cry out to their gods in fear, Yonah, in the holds of the ship, descends into a deep sleep; an escape of sorts. He is criticized by the captain who asks, “‘How can you sleep so soundly? Arise, call to your G-d! Perhaps G-d will pay us mind and we will not perish!’” (1:6) The captain’s call is a wake up call to understand one’s role in the world; One’s responsibilities to his fellow man. Can we sleep soundly while others suffer? Do we remain silent?

In fact, Yonah’s flight was more than a rebellion against G-d. Yonah’s flight represents a rebellion against society. Yonah shakes off the burden of mankind when he shakes off the burden of prophecy. This is his sin.

Yonah’s lack of empathy is most clearly expressed at the end of the sefer. Yonah is grieved after the city of Nineveh repents and is saved from destruction. Our Sages explain that Yonah is upset because he knows that the backsliding Jewish Nation will suffer greatly if compared to the people of Nineveh and their teshuvah. This was, in fact, the reason for Yonah’s flight. Now Yonah sits alone in his sadness. G-d creates for him a kikayon tree. It provides him with shade and gives him much joy. The next day at dawn, a worm attacks the tree and the tree dies. A hot wind blows in from the East and the sun beats down upon Yonah’s head. He is now even more despondent. He wants to die and says, “‘…death is better than my life’” (4:8). The kikayon, of course, was a lesson for Yonah. Tragically he did not comprehend its symbolism; the message lost.

At the end of the sefer (4:10-11), God Himself condemns Yonah’s lack of concern for humankind and says:

‘You took pity on the kikayon for which you did not labor, nor did you make it grow; it lived one night and perished after one night. And I, shall I not take pity upon Nineveh, the great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and many animals as well?’

The Talmud teaches that empathy is central to the Jewish experience: When the People of Israel fought Amalek in Rephidim (Shemot 17:8-13), their success depended on the hands of Moshe being raised. (Of course it was not his hands but the realization of God above them, as Moshe’s hands pointed heavenward). The Torah describes how, “Moshe’s hands grew heavy, so they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it…” (v. 12) Our Sages ask, “Did Moshe not have a mattress or pillow upon which to sit?” and answer, “Rather, Moshe said ‘Since the Jewish People are in pain, I too shall be in pain.” The Gemara continues, and states “One who suffers with community will merit to witness the consolation of the community.” (Ta’anit 11a) Despite what Simon and Garfunkel might have you believe, no man is a rock and no man is an island. We have a responsibility to share in one another’s pain.

There is a story about a Chassid who had left the fold. He moved out of the shtetl, leaving his fellow Chassidim and beloved Rebbe for the big city in search of fame and fortune. After several years, he returned to visit his Rebbe. The former Chassid joined his Rebbe who was sitting by the fire. The Rebbe said nothing as time passed. As the two sat together quietly, the Rebbe took a piece of coal out of the fireplace with his cane and dragged it to the middle of the floor. They both sat silently watching as the single piece of coal began to sputter out. The message was clear: one needs community. We are social creatures. We have a responsibility to the community. As Hillel taught, “Do not separate yourself from the community.” (Mishnah Avot 2:4)

The liturgy of Un’taneh Tokef, the emotional climax of the Mussaf, reminds us that all inhabitants of the world pass before God like “members of the flock.” We express uncertainty and doubt over which nations are destined for “…sword and which for peace, which for famine and which for plenty.”

And while it is a day for reflection, Yom HaKippurim is not just about the individual. We have an obligation to pray for the entire world; to consider what we can do for our community and what we can contribute to society and to humanity. We must express our sincere concern for our fellow Jew, but also our fellow man, created in the image of God.

This Shabbat is called “Shabbat Shuvah – The Sabbath of Return,” because of the Haftorah that is read, which begins: “Return Israel to Hashem your G-d…”

The Haftorah beseeches us to return, with verses from the prophets Hoshea, Yoel, and Michah. The second verse of the Haftorah begins with the words: “K’chu imachem devarim – Take for yourself words.” The Prophet is charging us “k’chu- take!” Take this message with you! Internalize it! Take the inspiration you feel in the synagogue during the Yomim Noraim and let it transform you. Let it inspire your service of God for the rest of the year.

My Rebbe, Rav Moshe Dovid Tendler, once shared a beautiful insight from his maternal grandfather R. Shalom Baumrind, z’l, known to the world as the Boyaner Mohel. He expounded upon a verse in Shir Hashirim (7:2): “How lovely are your steps in sandals…” One of the prohibitions on Yom Kippur is ne’ilat hasandal, wearing leather sandals or shoes. On Yom Kippur we stand in our sneakers, slippers, or stockinged feet and pray fervently. Asked the Boyaner Mohel, how will you pray after Yom Kippur? How will you behave when your shoes are back on? It is easy to be inspired on Yom Kippur but how much more beautiful is it if you continue with the same enthusiasm when your leather shoes are back on- days, weeks, and months later. Then Hashem can really say, “How lovely are your steps in sandals.”

There is a beautiful, if challenging, custom to build one’s Sukkah immediately after Yom Kippur. The Rema (Rabbi Moshe Issreles, 1520-1572), records this minhag in two places in his glosses to the Shulchan Aruch. At the end of the Laws of Yom HaKippurim (Orach Chaim 624:5) he writes:

And the careful ones begin to to build the Sukkah immediately after Yom Kippur in order to go ‘from one mitzvah into another mitzvah.’

He repeats this at the very beginning of his comments to the Laws of the Sukkah (Orach Chaim 625:1), and writes:

And it is a mitzvah to build the Sukkah immediately after Yom Kippur for ‘when a mitzvah comes into your hand, you should not delay [lit. let it leaven].’

Any student of Jewish Law knows what a master editor the Rema was. His comments are concise and written with precision.

Why the repetition? And why place this custom in the Laws of Yom HaKippurim?

At first glance, the Rema himself gives two different reasons, two important values. Some suggest that perhaps the intention is that one start building right after the fast and then finish the following day. (See Magen Avraham, Be’er Heitev, Eshel Avraham and Mishnah Berurah ad loc.)

But perhaps the repetition suggests something deeper. Perhaps the Rema is reminding us to take the inspiration of Yom Kippur with us by transitioning from ‘one mitzvah into another mitzvah.’ That could explain why this practice is recorded at the end of the Laws of Yom HaKippurim.

Inspiration can fade away; these feelings are fleeting. This is the challenge of this season. The month of Tishrei is referred to as Yerech HaEitanim – the Month of Strength (Melachim I 8:2). With Rosh Hashanah, the ten days of Repentance, Yom Kippur, Succos, Hoshanah Rabbah, Shemini Atzeres and Simchat Torah, this month is jam packed. Perhaps one reason for the name is that these special days are to give “strength” to the rest of the year; to keep us inspired.

May we merit that this season inspires us but also transforms our service of God for the rest of the year. May we merit to always pray, study, and perform mitzvot with the same passion and intensity.