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I guess it's been awhile since I posted anything here! This is something I wrote many years ago, but still resonate with me. Enjoy!
Why
does Rosh Ha-Shana, the new year, take place at this time of year? This is not a time of new growth, of new life
like in Spring. It is not a time when
the days begin to get brighter with more light and the sap begins to flow like
the new year in January. It is not even
the first month of the Jewish calendar -- it's the 7th. So why does the Jewish New Year take place at
the beginning of the end -- as the light begins to lessen, the leaves begin to
die, the wintry signs begin to appear?
I think it's because we are at a most
precious time of the year: the time between.
We are between the newness of summer and winter's death. We are between the newness of our own lives
and our own death. We are between the
indolent days of summer and the bustle of a school year. And so we become intensely aware of
life. Rosh Ha-Shana takes place at the
fullness of life. The harvest is
abundant. The fruits and vegetables
mature and ripe. Life is at its
peak. It is ripe for the asking and the
future lies in the seed. Passover, which
will come in the Spring, celebrates the budding and flowering of life. Everything is new then, everything is
possible. Yom Kippur -- here in only 10
days -- reminds us that we shall die. We
don't have forever. But Rosh Ha-Shanah
reminds us that life, like an apple, is now ripe, juicy and full of
flavour. Savour it well and remember
that ripe fruits bear seeds for the future.
The bible readings for the days of Rosh
Ha-Shanah remind us that fruitfulness and continuity come from maturity. The story of Sarah tells us she was over 100
years old when she had her first son from whom the Jewish people came. Hannah, who desperately wanted a child
through out her marriage, finally bore a great son, Samuel, when she was quite
old. I think these women were the source
of so much greatness because of their age and maturity -- not inspite of
it. And I think that's why they're read
on Rosh Ha-Shanah.
But you don't need to be 100 years old to
be fruitful. We're all older and wiser
than we were. We are all aware of how
quickly time -- at least summertime -- passes.
So it's good for us all to appreciate the sweetness and vitality of
life. Because death, like winter and Yom
Kippur, does come to us too soon.
And what of Yom Kippur? It is the holiest day of the Jewish Year, the
day of Atonement. We stand before God
and ask for forgiveness. We ask that we
be remembered in the Book of Life. We
fast. In the late afternoon, feeling
weak with hunger and the lack of caffeine, we solemnly chant that we are like
sheep coming before the shepherd, before the slaughter. The time of judgment is now.
Yom Kippur is like a scheduled death. This is the appointed day. You know it ahead of time, you can't will it
away, you must now be ready to meet it.
Rosh Ha-Shanah, coming 10 days earlier, is akin to a the "5 minute
warning" I give my children before they must leave something they are
enjoying. But now the time is up, the
moment has arrived. There are no
extensions. We are confronted with those
questions that are inescapable: Have I
done what I'm supposed to? Have I done
the best that I can? And if I haven't,
have I recognized where I have failed and made up for it?
Elie Weisel tells a story that as one of
the sages approached death he was afraid.
His followers said, "But Rebbe, why are you afraid? Your life has been as good of that of
Moses!" "Ach!" replied the Rebbe. "That is what I am most afraid of. When I die, God will not ask me why wasn't I
more like Moses, God will ask me why wasn't I more like myself!"
But there's the rub. For how can we truly know ourselves? How can we knowingly be truthful about
ourselves?
Human beings have an amazing ability to
turn a blind eye to the truths that stand in front of them or are part of
them. The alcoholic knows he or she is
drinking, but doesn't see a problem. The
torturer of political prisoners will commit unspeakable atrocities to other humans
yet hug and kiss their own children and kindly feed their dog. How many times do we all say -- with utter
conviction -- "Well, it's not my fault..." or "I didn't
know..."
Denial of our failings is strong. And while it is strikingly easy to see the
wrong doings of others -- we complain about them all the time -- it is far more
difficult to see our own. In the
Christian Gospels Jesus warns his followers to take out the log in their own
eyes before they attempt to take the splinter out of their neighbors. Yet, how easy it is to "see" that
splinter without ever noticing the log!
So Yom Kippur comes along, forcing me to
look at my own wrongdoings and failings and to forgive those of others. But I am like the biblical character Jonah
who we read about on Yom Kippur. Jonah
is called on by God to do a job and goes to great lengths to avoid doing what
he should. I, like Jonah, go to great
lengths to avoid telling the truth and taking the consequences. It is on Yom Kippur that I have the chance to
finally be honest with myself.
So here I am. I celebrate Rosh Ha-Shana by appreciating the
fullness and sweetness of life because I am aware that a good thing doesn't
last forever -- it will come to an end.
As I approach the end I can ask myself these questions:
Am
I truly appreciating and living my life to the fullest?
Am
I truly being myself?
Am
I truly being honest with myself and with others?
Am
I truly willing to forgive myself and others for wrong doings in the past?
Am
I willing to try my best to do good in this New Year?
I
may not be able to answer completely, but it's very good to have a period on
which to honestly think about and reflect upon the questions. May it be a sweet New Year for us all. L'Shana Tovah
