ROSH HA-SHANA & YOM KIPPUR

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