On Shabbat Shuva, the Sabbath between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the haftarah proclaims:

“You will again have compassion on us;
    you will tread our sins underfoot
    and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea..”
— Micah 7:19

That verse frames the season. At the start of the Ten Days of Repentance, we gather by a river or lake for Tashlich, casting crumbs into the current as a sign of casting off our wrongs.
It is not superstition but a declaration of hope: the sinner is not the sin; the two can be parted.

Jonah’s Descent

At the other end of the Ten Days, on Yom Kippur afternoon, we read the story of Jonah — the counter-story.

Jonah fled from God’s call aboard a ship. A storm raged over the ship until the sailors, reluctantly, cast him overboard, and suddenly the sea grew calm. By all natural expectation, Jonah should have floated. Instead, he sank. He recounts:

“The waters closed in over me;
the deep engulfed me;
weeds were wrapped around my head.”
— Jonah 2:5

Jonah could not separate from his defiance; he was dragged to the bottom with it.

Then God sent the great fish — not as a punishment but as a chamber of mercy, a hollow where Jonah could face his failing, pray, and be restored to life. The fish shows that even in the depths, repentance is still possible.

Two Fish, One Lesson

Many have the custom to recite Tashlich at a stream that has living fish. Some suggest it is a symbol of good luck while others suggest that the fish “consume” the symbolic sins, carrying them away like a scapegoat.

Placed against the story of Jonah, the image deepens: the fish in the stream greet us at the gates of the Ten Days; the great fish of Jonah meets us at their close. The small fish beneath the ripples hint at an easy parting from our minor failings; the great fish is the last-chance refuge for those who waited too long.

The High Holiday season sets the choice before us:

At the opening, we can cast our sins away and watch them sink while we stand free on the shore. At the closing, if we still cling to them, we risk being dragged under — yet even then there is mercy, a chance to pray and rise again.

The waters of Micah and Jonah teach the same truth: our sins can drown without dragging us under — if we will let them go.

Let us all attempt to separate ourselves from sin, and cast them into the depths of the water and be blessed with a new year of health and opportunity.