Like Cantor Emma and Adam, Becky and I recently attended a performance of “Hadestown” at the Ahmanson (the run ends May 29th). I fall short with superlatives to describe this splendid musical. Beyond the roof-raising music, the supremely talented musicians, and the overwhelmingly talented performers, the storyline itself is quite powerful.

Loosely based on various versions of the Greek tale of Orpheus seeking his beloved Eurydice, indie folk musician Anaïs Mitchel has integrated themes of poverty, climate change, social inequity, worker exploitation, and romance into this modern musical that is, ultimately, a tragedy. In the Greek myth, Eurydice became trapped in Hell after cutting a desperate deal with Hades, a deal born of her ravenous, poverty-induced hunger. While each of these themes alone could lead one to profound despair, a number of brilliant devices evoke quite the opposite response from the audience.

The music is as powerful as it is uplifting, and the lyrics are complex enough to evoke both laughter and deep contemplation. But it is the final scene, after the curtain calls, that drives the message home.

Eurydice will never leave Hell, the lovers are forever separated, very little has changed—it is a tragedy, after all—and yet the cast raises a glass in song for Orpheus. How can that be? What joy is there to be found after such tragedy? Here is where this tortured tale actually evokes Jewish themes and reminds us of our own truths. Here are the lyrics:

Pour the wine and raise a cup
Drink up, brothers, you know how
And spill a drop for Orpheus
Wherever he is now

Some birds sing when the sun shines bright
Our praise is not for them
But the ones who sing in the dead of night
We raise our cups to them

Wherever he is wandering
Alone upon the earth
Let all our singing follow him
And bring him comfort

Some flowers bloom
Where the green grass grows
Our praise is not for them
But the ones who bloom in the bitter snow
We raise our cups to them

We raise our cups and drink them up
We raise ’em high and drink ’em dry
To Orpheus and all of us
Goodnight, brothers, goodnight

What’s Jewish about this message? Read tomorrow’s Kavanah to see my interpretation.

—Rabbi Ron Stern