the singular message of rosh hashanah

8/4/2019 The Singular Message of Rosh Hashanah

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The "Singular" Message of

Rosh HashanahRosh Hashanah First Day 5772

By Rabbi Mark B Greenspan

Do you like riddles? I do. And if you're like me then you'll be pleased to know that we're in the midstof one of the more intriguing riddles in our tradition. How exactly did Rosh Hashanah become Rosh

Hashanah?

Professor Neil Gillman, my teacher, claims that Rosh Hashanah is something of an enigma. Of all the

holidays in our calendar, it might very well be the strangest. While many consider this to be "religious

prime time," one of the most important moments in the year, you won't find 'Rosh Hashanah,'

anywhere in the Bible. The holiday called Rosh Hashanah simply doesn’t exist!

So where does Rosh Hashanah come from? The Torah says, "In the seventh month on the first day of the month you shall observe a rest, a sacred occasion with loud blasts. You shall not work at your

occupation; and you shall bring a gift to the Lord."(Deut. 23:24) The holiday that we think of as Rosh

Hashanah is never called by that name. What's more, according to the Torah, it occurs in the seventhmonth of the year - which precludes it from being Rosh Hashanah, "the beginning" of the year!

According to the Torah, Nisan, the month in which Passover falls, is the first month, so technically

Passover is the original "Rosh Hashanah."

Later, in the Mishnah, we find reference not to Rosh Hashanah but four roshei shanah, four occasions

that are considered 'the beginnings of the year.' This term is not a designation for a particular holiday.

Rather, it is a way of referring to moments of transition in the calendar. The year has many roshei

shanah, beginnings. Nisan, we're told, is the Rosh Hashanah for holidays and kings (that is, a Jewish

king's reign was marked from Nisan, no matter when he took office); Elul is Rosh Hashanah for cattle

(not so relevant today since I don’t believe we have cattle herders in our congregation); Shevat is Rosh

Hashanah for trees (we call it Tu Bi-shvat ) and Tishri is when we begin counting the years,announcing the jubilee and for planting vegetables. Only later are we told that on the first of Tishri,

"All who walk the earth pass before God k'vnei maron, like young sheep," or, depending on how you

read the Mishnah, "K'vnuniron, as soldiers."

The commentators were not of one mind about what this means. Which are we: sheep passing beneath

the staff, or as soldiers standing in review? This is two ways to think about what our role is in

synagogue at this time of year. And two ways to think of God, as a shepherd, or a King. Whichmetaphor best describes the way you imagine your relationship to God? Possibly neither works for you

- so at this moment what would you say about your relation to God? Why are you here? Is Godlistening? Are we being judged?

It was only later that Rosh Hashanah became associated with creation. In our liturgy we chant Hayom

harat olam, "This is the birthday of the world." But the sages didn't agree about this either. Some

argued that the world was created in the month of Nisan and others suggested Tishri. In typical Jewish

fashion, there's also a third point of view: some argued that creation began a week ago on the 25th

of



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Elul, so that Rosh Hashanah marks not the creation of the world but the creation of humanity. That onecan suggest that we know the day on which the world or human beings were created is something of a

deceit. From our modern perspective, this must be read as poetry and not science. The point is that

once a year, we go back to the beginning and start over. It is a powerful way of thinking about

ourselves and the world. The rabbis knew full-well that we have many beginnings. And by suggestingthat 'this is the day' on which we were created, they were reminding us that there are moments when

we should stop and think about where we have been and where we're going. It means that we must say,as it does on our Ner Tamid , "Know before whom you are standing."

But let's return to the Mishnah, for a moment. If we return to the very beginning, we do so not as acommunity but as single individuals - like the first human being. The Mishnah says, on this day, "each

person must pass before God." We stand in judgment alone.

This idea found its way into our liturgy. In the U'netaneh Tokef we say: "The great Shofar is sounded

and a still small voice is heard. This day even the angels are alarmed and seized with trembling as they

declare, 'The day of judgment is here!' This day all who walk the earth pass before You as sheep/as

soldiers. Like a shepherd who gathers his flocks, bringing them under his staff, you bring everything

that lives before you for review…"

These are powerful words. They may trouble us. However you choose to understand these metaphors,

it seems to me that they have one thing in common: Rosh Hashanah is meant to be a solitary, lonely,

day when each of us must stand in the presence of God. We may be surrounded by family and friends

but we are alone before God. Maybe that's why we refer to this season as the "Days of Awe." We mustface our lives, our destiny, our secrets and our shame, all alone.

Our other holidays are days of communal identity: we celebrate the Exodus from Egypt, the giving of

the Torah at Sinai, the sojourn in the wilderness. We light the Menorah to recall the Maccabees and

read the Megillah to commemorate the Jewish people's salvation from Haman. Even Yom Kippur is

about community - we don’t confess our individual transgressions but "our sins," as a community.Today we're all alone. "Each person passes before God." As solitary individual we must confront our

mortality: "who shall live and who shall die." There were no guarantees or promises for the past year

and none for the year ahead: today might be the beginning or it might mark the end for each of us.

The words which speak most powerfully to me at this time of year come from the U'netaneh Tokef :"You open the Book of Remembrance and it speaks for itself, for each person has signed it with his

own deeds." Those words are terrifying. It's not God's judgment that we fear but our own. On this daythere are no evasions. We cannot deny the truths of our lives. We cannot hide from ourselves. If we

take the time to reflect on the past year then we must acknowledge our faults and foolishness. We haveno one to blame but ourselves. It's all written down and it's written "in our own handwriting."

But that's not what we do, is it? It's easier to point at others, to make excuses, or to blamecircumstances than it is to take responsibility for ourselves. I'm reminded of a cartoon of a man

standing before a judge. He says: "Of course it was entrapment, your honor. If the voters hadn’t electedme I wouldn’t be in this mess!" How often have we heard communal leaders blame others for their

own stupidity and greed? It's easier to hide behind others than it is to stand alone, exposed in thepresence of God or in the presence of those we have offended. Whatever the U'netaneh Tokef may

mean, it reminds us that in the end, in the moments that count the most, we are alone.



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We tend to downplay this idea in contemporary Jewish life. We speak of the "Jewish people," theimportance of community, and we like to describe synagogues as a 'family.' Of course, these are all

important aspects of Jewish life. Where would we be without a minyan? Aren't our prayers written in

the first person plural so that we speak as a community? Don’t we celebrate our history as a people?

This is true, but our relationship to God begins alone. Today we are like the first human being in theGarden of Eden. We must answer for ourselves. God asks, Ayeka, "Where are you" and we must

answer. We can't hide behind others.

There is a need for a corrective in Jewish life today, a return to the unique and singular relationship

that we have with God. In the moments that count the most, we stand alone. We are responsible forourselves.

That is why the High Holy Days are so powerful, and why they are such a draw for so many of us. It

doesn’t quite register consciously, but we're drawn back to synagogue at this time of year because we

sense our 'aloneness.' These days are about the existential truths of life. We live, we die, we make

mistakes. We're afraid. We sense our guilt. We have secrets and shame we share with no one. We're

uncertain. We don’t know what the year ahead holds for us or our loved ones. But having arrived at

services, the irony is that we hide behind community rather than confronting our singular presencebefore God. And that is where faith really begins.

The prayer we recite most often during this season emphasizes this 'aloneness' before God. It's not the

U'netaneh Tokef or Avinu Malkeinu but Psalm 27. We recite this psalm twice a day for six weeks,

starting in the month of Elul until the end of Sukkot. It begins:

The Lord is my light and my helpWho shall I fear

The Lord is the strength of my life

Of whom shall I be afraid?

Notice that it's not the 'we' who is speaking here but 'me.' I speak of my fears: evil doers slander me,armies camp arise against me, losing the loved ones. But then I say: these aren't my greatest fears - mygreatest fear is not having You in my life, God. If that happens than I am really alone! "One thing do I

ask of God; for this I yearn: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life…." It is for God's

presence that we strive on the High Holy Days.

Some of you may be troubled by this 'take' on religion that puts so much emphasis on God. "God"

dredges up unpleasant and naïve images from your childhood. A young man recently came to see meand said that when he married he would not teach his children about religion - because Judaism was no

different than believing in the tooth fairy or a rabbits foot. How sad that this young man's conception

of God is so childish and naïve - For thousands of years, our most brilliant thinkers have struggled with

the meaning of God - I don’t believe they were simple minded or superstitious. Maybe you're angrywith God for taking a loved one from you or ruining your health. Maybe you have serious doubts or

simply don’t believe in God - at least the one you learned about from your parents or in religious

school. So let me suggest that we need to get past these childhood images that are no more real than

the tooth fairy. God has many names in Judaism and there are many ways of thinking about God.

What they all teach us are two basic insights: There is a power beyond ourselves in the universe andwe are not the center of the universe. At the very center of our God beliefs are these two ideas. And



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having come to those insights we must ask ourselves: If there is a power greater than me, then what isexpected of me? And what is my place in the world, in the universe? What is the purpose of my life?

So we're celebrating Rosh Hashanah today: not because 'the world was created' on this day or because'the Book of Remembrance is literally being inscribed' but because a new year can't begin until we are

prepared to confront the basic truths and realities of our lives: our mortality, our weaknesses, our

responsibility, our connections to others. The very fact that we may not live out the year ought to spurus on to think about how we can carve meaning out of a life that is at times harsh and mystrious. What

if I knew that I only had six months to live? What would I do differently? Where would I put my

energy? How would I live my life?

Consider this story: When Patrice Millet was diagnosed with a cancer, he decided to start living theway he always wanted: helping needy kids in his native Haiti. So he sold his business and started

FONDAPS youth soccer program, which provide free equipment, coaching and food to children

from the slums of Port Au Prince. Many of these children lost relatives in the 2010 earthquake and

now live in tent cities. Millet was given a 'death sentence by the doctors but he turned it into a life

sentence. He continues to work and and he’s determined to do all he can to give “his kids” a shot at a

better life.

So I ask you: what is your life sentence? What will the holidays mean for you this year? Will RoshHashanah mark the beginning of a new year? Will it be an opportunity to create a new world? Will

you stand in the presence of God without pretense or evasions and ask yourself - what does my life

mean? Will you redeem your life from loneliness? That, my friends, is the reason we are here. And thatis where our faith begins.

There is no riddle about it. Rosh Hashanah is the beginning of the year. It is our opportunity to start allover. It is our chance to say, Hayom Harat Olam - today, in the presence of God, I can create a new

world!

Shanah Tova

the singular message of rosh hashanah

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