At Minchah on Yom HaKippurim we read the Book of Yonah. It is a story beloved by young and old. My little boys even studied it this year in pre-school! It is story that captures our minds and hearts and is as relevant today as it was when written.

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.