Tonight Begins the Jewish New Year

"It was evening, it was morning: one day." Genesis 1:5.

Simon Jacobson explains the meaning of Rosh Hashana, in terms that reverberate to everyone, regardless of religious affiliation.


THE MEANING OF ROSH HASHANA

The simple, literal meaning of Rosh Hashana is “head of the year,” an appropriate name for the day which begins the Jewish New Year. However, this simple meaning belies the deeper, more profound content of this great two-day holiday:
·It is a holiday when we celebrate the birthday of the world — the day that humanity came into existence. We set out lavish feasts, dipping apples in honey, for a sweet new year.
·It is a holiday when the earth trembles as the shofar is blown, its heart-rending sounds vibrating through us. It reminds us that this is the day when G-d sits in judgment of us.
·It is a holiday when, after a month “in the field,” the King returns to His palace, and we come to Him to pay homage and to acknowledge Him as our King.
·It is a holiday when we ask G-d to remember us for life and to inscribe us in the Book of Life.

. . .

JUDGMENT DAY
Rosh Hashana is called “the day of judgment.” But what does this mean exactly? Many people believe that it means we should be trembling before G-d. If we sinned (and who hasn’t ?), G-d’s wrath and punishment are imminent.

But that kind of thinking is a religious distortion. It is a perpetuation of the negative stereotype that G-d is “angry” and “vengeful,” filled with rage and determined to “get even with us.”

Yes, Rosh Hashana is a day of judgment, but not the kind of judgment we imagine. It is the ultimate insult — and nothing more than anthropomorphic projection imposed by human beings upon G-d — to think that G-d judges us the way we judge each other.

Instead of imposing our ideas of judgment upon G-d, we should be seeking to discover how does G-d judge us. In fact, the better question might be: “DOES G-d judge us ?”

G-d created a universe of mortal, imperfect human beings. Does He now demand to know why we are not perfect ? Clearly that can’t be it.

The truth is that the relationship between us and G-d is a partnership. Partners are accountable to each other. In the month of Elul, we do our accounting. Rosh Hashana is audit day. G-d checks the books to see how we took care of His investment in us.

This is the true meaning of Divine judgment.

Thus Rosh Hashana is actually a day of compassion — a holiday and cause for celebration. On this day, G-d gives us the opportunity to face Him and report on our progress in fulfilling the Divine mission we were charged with. And we are given the power to renew our “contract” with G-d.

Even if we feel uncomfortable with how little we have accomplished, there is nothing to fear. G-d’s judgment is filled with wisdom and mercy. He doesn’t look for perfection. He knows that He created imperfect human beings. He doesn’t ask, “Why weren’t you perfect ?” He asks us only, “Why aren’t you as much as you could have been ?”

The judgment of Rosh Hashana is thus really a great gift: G-d’s vote of confidence in us that we can live up to our greatest potential.

This is what we should keep in focus on Rosh Hashana as we open our hearts to G-d in prayer.


TISHREI 1
THE DAY THE WORLD TREMBLES,
THE DAY THE WORLD IS BORN

The two meanings of the Rosh Hashana prayer, Hayom harat olam, communicate succinctly the essence of the day: “Today the world trembles/Today the world is born.”

We feel this message most acutely when the shofar is blown. On the anniversary of the day on which the first human being possessing a Divine soul was created, we blow the shofar which mirrors the cry of that soul — our soul.

On this day G-d breathed the soul of life into man. And now every Rosh Hashana man blows his breath — the breath that G-d breathed into him — through a ram’s horn in order to hear the sound of his soul reverberate.

The ram, a male sheep (the animal that Abraham offered in sacrifice in place of his son Isaac), is the most gentle and innocent of creatures, untainted by the aggressive nature of other animals. The ram reminds us that our soul is that part of ourselves that is gentle and innocent, untainted by the aggressive, manipulative world we inhabit. And the ram’s horn is the simplest of instruments — not carved, molded or strung like other instruments which testify to the ingenuity of man — and it produces the haunting, resonating, piercing cry that most closely approximates the pure sound of the soul.

The prayer that we recite before the blowing of the shofar further unlocks its secret: “From my narrow place, from my depths and constraints, I call to You, and You respond to me from Your expansive place.”

The pressures and challenges of life that force us into a “narrow place” — a place of difficulty, pain, frustration, regret, or sorrow — are meant to be catalysts that compel us to cry out to G-d for something more than our earthbound materialistic reality.

This prayer assures us that when we cry from our “narrow place,” the response flows from G-d’s most expansive generosity. In fact, the shape of the shofar — narrow at one end and wide at the other—mirrors this experience.

The purest cry that is emitted from the constraints of our lives reaches the purest place in heaven and opens up the channel of all blessings.

Simon Jacobson

Excerpt from "60 DAYS: A Spiritual Guide to the High Holidays", by Simon Jacobson (Kiyum Press, 2003). Reprinted with permission from the publisher. To obtain the book or for more information, please go to http://www.meaningfullife.com .