One of the most solemn prayers we say on Yom Kippur is U'netaneh Tokef, written centuries ago.  It is in many ways the highlight of the long service.

Before we got to that during the service yesterday the synogogue's president congratulated everyone for having been inscribed in the book of life last year, which carried some sadness to it as not everyone in our family made it through the year.  Then came U'netaneh Tokef where we rhetorically ask who will die this coming year.  And how?  Who by fire, who by water, who by wild beasts, who by strangling, to quote the prayer.

This is scary.   I want to make it until next year for sure, but if I don't, I would rather a swift end like a brain rupture.  I really am not thrilled about coming to my demise by wild beasts or fire or strangulation.   And I wonder why the poet who composed this included such awful ways to go.

Maybe to have its desired effect.  Be a good Jew and you have a better chance not to be mauled to death by a mountain lion.  It's enough to make me think about being a better person.  I guess that's the idea.