Chapter 19
In with the New: Rosh Hashanah
In This Chapter
Taking time to reflect on the passing year
Getting back on track: The role of teshuvah
Saying special prayers for the High Holidays
Celebrating the Ten Days of Awe: A time for spiritual cleansing
If you dissect the average family argument or disagreement between friends, you find a curious fact: The conflict is almost always based on people forgetting their priorities and commitments. In the heat of the moment it’s hard to remember what’s really important in life. Judaism has a “built-in” system to help get you back on track with your priorities, and it begins with Rosh Hashanah — the autumn festival called the Jewish New Year. Rosh Hashanah is a holiday of remembrance.
A Day for Making Judgments
In Chapter 25, we explore the spring holiday of Passover and how it encourages people to seek out ways in which they are enslaved by habits, addictions, fears, and so on. Jewish tradition states that each Jew must yearly experience the release from slavery into freedom, just as the early Hebrews were freed from slavery in Egypt. By the time Rosh Hashanah rolls around, some six months after Passover, it’s time to start asking, “What have I made of my freedom? Am I still following the path on which I set out?”
New year’s celebrations in most cultures are boisterous events, but Rosh Hashanah is a solemn time — solemn, but not sad. In fact, there’s great happiness on this day, but this happiness is typically honored in quiet ways because of the focus on judgment. To reflect this solemnity, Rosh Hashanah is also called Yom Ha-Zikaron (The Day of Remembrance) and Yom Ha-Din (The Day of Judgment).
The Talmud’s chief metaphor for this judgment is that God opens three books on Rosh Hashanah. One book is for the names of the thoroughly wicked, who are immediately inscribed in the Book of Death. Another book is for the completely righteous, who are immediately inscribed in the Book of Life. The third book is for those in between — those who are sometimes righteous and sometimes wicked. Final judgment is suspended for these “in-betweeners” until Yom Kippur. Acts of charity, true repentance, and prayer make a positive outcome more possible.
Growing up, this idea of being judged really bugged us. But we now see that the metaphor serves to inspire some serious self-reflection about one’s life and soul. Rosh Hashanah is the time to pull out your calendar, review your year, and consider:
Were there times that you could have been nicer to someone?
Were there people that you hurt, intentionally or unintentionally?
Are you fulfilling the dreams and goals that you set out for yourself?
Have you been honest with yourself and everyone around you?
When you consider your year, what are the things that you are proud of, and what are the things you are sorry about?
What are the things you wish you had done that you didn’t? And the things that you did do that you wish you hadn’t?
The Book of Life: Take two
Perhaps the story of the books is most helpful as an opportunity to look at how you will live in the coming year. By freeing yourself from past guilts and pains, from past grudges against others, you open yourself to truly living and experiencing the incredible joys of life — hence, you become “inscribed in the Book of Life.” If you don’t do this work, you remain encased in old angers and in old patterns, and you aren’t present for the wonders of the moment. You are therefore “written in the Book of Death.”
Teshuvah: Getting back on track
Perhaps the most important aspect of Rosh Hashanah isn’t the judgment, but the teshuvah — the return, renewal, or repentance that each Jew is called to. This isn’t just another “I promise to do better in the future” kind of response. Instead, teshuvah is a serious stab at beginning the process of forgiveness and of forgiving others. The process continues through Yom Kippur (see Chapter 20).
Ultimately, the goal of teshuvah is to let go of the past — through self-judgment, making amends, and so on — to make room for what is coming in the new year. Rosh Hashanah arrives like a wake-up call just before winter, offering a chance to renew and refresh your intentions, your priorities, and your sense of spiritual connectedness.
The 40-Day Plan
Judaism recognizes that you can’t be expected to undertake this kind of major life review in just one day, so tradition calls for a 40-day plan. Just as the Jewish day always begins at sundown, the year begins at the waning of summer, when winter is approaching (in the Northern Hemisphere, at least). The cycle begins in the last month of the year, Elul (which has 29 days), and then ends 10 days after Rosh Hashanah, on Yom Kippur. Tradition says that after Moses smashed the first set of tablets (when he found the Jews dancing around the golden calf idol) he ascended the mountain for the second time on the first of Elul. That meant that he descended with the second tablets (40 days later) on what would become Yom Kippur.
(Those of you who love math may have noticed that this adds up to only 39 days. However, Jews celebrate the day of Rosh Chodesh Elul — the beginning of the month of Elul —one day before the month, making it a total of 40.)
The days of Elul
The month of Elul is dedicated to study and self-examination. Honestly, though, it’s hard to keep the focus that long, so relatively few Jews spend the entire month in reflection. Fortunately, the point isn’t to be dogmatic about it, but rather to start the process gradually. Some Jews only start seriously thinking about this stuff the last week or so of the month.
Jews customarily blow the shofar (ram’s horn; see Blowing your horn, later in this chapter) at the synagogue briefly each morning during Elul (except on Shabbat and on the last day of the month). Blowing the shofar is like a wake-up call to the soul.
During Elul, Jews read Psalm 27 each day. The Psalm begins, “The Eternal is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? The Eternal is the strength of my life. Of whom shall I be afraid?” Rabbis have long taught that the enemy spoken of in the Psalm can be interpreted as the enemy within — the parts of oneself that work from a place of forgetfulness, ignorance, fear, or anger. The reading assures you that you can rely on the strength of the Greater Presence awakening within you.
Preparations: S’lichot
During the entire month of Elul, traditional congregations add a series of prayers to their services called s’lichot (pronounced slee-khot). The word s’lichot means “forgivenesses.” (If you bump into someone on the street in Israel, you should say s’licha, which means “excuse me” or “forgive me.”) The s’lichot prayers call out to God asking for forgiveness.
On the Saturday night before Rosh Hashanah, however, congregations hold a special service — often held at midnight, when it is said that the heavens are especially open to prayers — called the S’lichot service. (If Rosh Hashanah falls on a Monday or Tuesday, S’lichot is held a week earlier.) Even nontraditional Jews are increasingly observing this service because it seems to resonate with an important need: Letting go of the previous year’s resolutions and really beginning the process of preparing for forgiveness and repentance.
In many communities, S’lichot has become a time for people to search out their neighbors to ask for or to offer forgiveness, like clearing the air and releasing themselves and others of the heavy betrayals and failures that accrued over the year.
Celebrating Rosh Hashanah
Rosh Hashanah is a holiday of several “only’s.” It is the only Jewish holiday that falls on a new moon, that Jews blow the shofar horn more than once (traditionally for a hundred blasts), and that lasts two days in and outside of Israel. Actually, these days, while Conservative and Orthodox synagogues typically celebrate for two days, most Reform Jews only observe Rosh Hashanah for a single day.
The High Holidays are among the most important celebrations of the year, and for many less-observant Jews, this may be the only time they set foot in a synagogue all year. Surprisingly, there’s very little unique ritual involved in either Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur. The Bible states that you should blow a ram’s horn on Rosh Hashanah. That doesn’t take very long, so then what? You pray. And, oy, are there a lot of prayers!
The celebration begins with a lighting of candles at sundown (usually at home) and saying two blessings: the yom tov (“holiday”) blessing and the Sheh-heh-khi-yanu blessing (see Appendix B). Then, everyone heads off for the evening service at the synagogue. Remember that many traditional Jews attend services at the synagogue every night (see Chapter 3), and this service is simply an extension of the “regular” service, with additional prayers and readings (which we discuss in a moment).
At the synagogue, the Torah covers, the curtain of the ark, and the reading table (where the Torah will be placed) are often covered with white as a sign of purity, and many Jews also dress in white at services. Although most Jews dress nicely for services year-round, for some this is one of the great social events of the year, and they may dress in their very best for the evening.
Finally, after the evening service (on both nights), it’s customary to eat sweet foods — especially apples dipped in honey — and toast to “a good and sweet year.” Similarly, people eat challah (often with raisins or dipped in honey to make it sweeter) that has been baked in round loaves. (Round foods symbolize the cyclical nature of life.)
Some Jews add foods to their table based on puns. For example, if you invite a single friend to dinner, you might offer dates with the wish, “May you have many good dates this year.” People also eat tsimmis (a sweet casserole that’s often made with carrots, sweet potatoes, and dried fruits such as prunes) or kugel (a sweet noodle pudding that acts best as a dessert; see the kugel recipe later in this chapter if you want to make your own). Just thinking about this stuff makes us hungry.
Jews typically go to Rosh Hashanah services both in the evening and the next day (especially the morning service and the additional Musaf service that follows it). Then they repeat the whole thing for the second day (with a few minor changes in the readings).
Kugel
Prep time: 15 minutes • Cook time: 60 minutes • Yield: 6-8 servings
Ingredients
8 ounces of flat egg noodles (medium width is best)
3 eggs, beaten
1⁄2 cup sugar
1⁄2 cup raisins
1 red apple such as a Braeburn or Macintosh, peeled and diced
1⁄2 cup coarsely chopped nuts (generally almonds or walnuts)
1 cup cottage cheese (optional)*
2 ounces butter* or margarine, melted
1⁄4 teaspoon salt
1⁄4 teaspoon cinnamon
Directions
1. Preheat the over to 350 degrees.
2. Cook the noodles according to the package directions on the package (usually 8 minutes for store-bought noodles), but don’t over-cook them! When the noodles are done, drain them well.
3. In a large bowl, combine the noodles, eggs, sugar, raisins, apple, nuts, salt, and cottage cheese (if using) and mix well with a spoon.
4. Grease a baking pan (about a 9-inch square pan should do it) with the butter or margarine, spread the noodle mixture evenly into the baking pan, and then sprinkle the top with cinnamon. Bake for 50 to 60 minutes, or until the kugel is browned, but not burned, on top.
Per serving: Calories 411 (From Fat 164); Fat 18g (Saturated 7g); Cholesterol 144mg; Sodium 43mg; Carbohydrate 55g (Dietary Fiber 3g); Protein 10g.
Variation: Like many Jewish recipes, kugel is a great opportunity to experiment. You can replace the raisins with dates, add some chopped figs or prunes, spice it up with clove or cardamom — the options are endless.
*Note: Kosher dietary laws say you shouldn’t mix meat and dairy (see Chapter 4). So, traditionally, if you serve kugel alongside a meat dish, use non-dairy (pareve) margarine and leave out the cheese.
The Makhzor: The High Holy Day prayer book
During the High Holidays, the ordinary prayerbook used in synagogue, the siddur, is replaced with a special prayerbook called the makhzor (cycle). The makhzor varies as widely among congregations or denominations as the siddur (a lot!), but you can generally count on a few similarities.
While the service includes most of the standard prayers, additional prayers and readings focus on three themes (which are also the names of sections in the Rosh Hashanah Musaf service, the additional service added after the morning service on Shabbat and holidays):
Malkhiyot (“Kingship”). More than any other time during the year, the High Holidays are a time to visualize and pray to God as King. Prayers repeat the words HaMelekh! (“O King!”) and Avinu Malkenu (“Our Father, our King”) multiple times. The focus is on the Majesty of the Greater Presence in the Universe, the “sovereignty” of God.
Zikhronot (“Remembrances”). Many of the additional prayers focus on remembering, particularly pleas to God to remember humankind during this time and for humans to remember all that God has done. Again, many people interpret these prayers as calls to wake up from a forgetful sleep, remembering that people are greater than their lowly ego-selves.
Shofarot (“Shofar blasts”). These prayers focus on the Torah and on Zion (the Promised Land), both of which are interpretations of the symbolic shofar blasts.
In addition to these prayers, the Rosh Hashanah Musaf service includes other verses from the Bible. A traditional machzor might include three verses from the Torah (the first five books of the Bible), three from Prophets (like the book of Samuel or Jeremiah), three from the Writings (like the book of Psalms or Proverbs), and then one more from the Torah again. This pattern may repeat for each of the three sections: Malkhiyot, Zikhronot, and Shofarot.
On top of all of this, the Torah scroll is opened and read during each morning service of Rosh Hashanah. Typically, on the first morning the congregation reads the story of Abraham sending Hagar and his son Ishmael away (Genesis 21). The second morning, they read the extraordinary story of Abraham almost sacrificing his other son, Isaac (Genesis 22). Liberal congregations that only celebrate Rosh Hashanah on one day usually just read the second story.
Why these particular stories? Why roll the Torah scroll back to its early chapters just as the year of Torah reading is about to end? The readings stimulate people to think about the meaning of faith at the beginning of the new year. Also, they make people consider how awesome a commitment Abraham had, to place the lives of his only two children in the hands of God.
Blowing your horn
Nothing says “Wake up!” more than hearing a ram’s horn blown during the Musaf service on Rosh Hashanah day. And it’s not just blown once — it’s traditionally blown 100 times in varying ways and times throughout the service. Usually one person is given the honor of blowing the shofar, but sometimes more than one person blows at the same time, or they take turns blowing.
In ancient days the shofar was blown quite often (to signal a fast or the beginning of a holiday, and so on), but these days the shofar is usually only blown during Elul (once a day), on Rosh Hashanah (a lot), and on Yom Kippur (once, at the end of the holiday). However, to say that it’s just “blown” doesn’t do the act justice. Various ways of blowing on the shofar have specific meanings:
Tekiah: One long note like an alarm
Shevarim: Three medium blasts
Teruah: Eight quick staccato notes followed by one slightly longer blast
Each of these “notes” evokes a different sense of crying: sorrowful moaning, grievous wailing, or sharp sobbing. The sounds resonate not only in sad ways, though; for many Jews, the blasts of the shofar are indescribably beautiful and moving.
During the Musaf service, one person quietly calls out the order of the pattern, which is printed in the makhzor (like, “tekiah, teruah-shevarim, tekiah,” and so on). The last note of the pattern is always a tekiah gedolah, which is a particularly long blow, usually ending with a more forceful blast at the end.
Here are a few things to think about when listening to the shofar:
According to the Bible, the sound the ancient Hebrews heard at Mount Sinai was the blast of a shofar.
Curiously, the tradition requires Jews to hear the sounds of the shofar, not to blow the horn themselves.
Abraham sacrificed a ram after God spared Isaac (see Chapter 11). Tradition holds that God blew one of the ram’s horns at Sinai and will blow the other horn to announce the coming of the messiah. For those who aren’t into the idea of an external, redeeming messiah, the shofar blast is like a taste of what it’s like to be really wide awake and aware in a “messianic consciousness,” a taste of expanded love and compassion which marks the messianic time.
Some folks think of the shofar as an alarm, warning people to wake up and turn their lives around. Others see it as piercing the shell that has hardened around their hearts in the previous year.
Focus on the sound, remembering that though words and melodies have changed over centuries, the sound of the shofar remains a constant.
Note that traditional congregations don’t blow the shofar when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat.
Tashlikh
One of our favorite Rosh Hashanah customs, called Tashlikh, calls for Jews to visit a body of free-flowing water (like a river, lake, or ocean) and empty their pockets and cuffs of crumbs and lint in a symbolic gesture of casting away guilt and letting go of the previous year. Some Jews just throw bread crumbs into the water, feeding ducks and fish while they’re at it. Typically, people do this after the afternoon service on the first day of Rosh Hashanah, though if that falls on a Shabbat, Tashlikh is moved to Sunday.
Tashlikh (which literally means “You will cast”) stems from a biblical passage in the book of Micah (7:18-19): “And you will cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.”
Many rabbis over the centuries were uncomfortable with this custom — thinking that it promoted magical thinking — but Jews continue to embrace the custom, perhaps partly because it’s just so good to get outdoors after so many hours praying and socializing in the synagogue. Also, water is universally considered spiritually cleansing and transforming.
Of course, as Rabbi Richard Israel joked, “Taking a few crumbs to Tashlikh from whatever old bread is in the house lacks subtlety, nuance, and religious sensitivity.” He then goes on to note that you should bring the right kind of bread for the right kind of guilt. For example:
For ordinary sins, use white bread
For dark sins, use pumpernickel
For auto theft, use caraway
For being money-hungry, use raw dough
For being holier-than-thou, use bagels
The Ten Days of Awe
The period of teshuvah (“return” or “repentance”) lasts 40 days, from the day before Elul to Yom Kippur. Most Jews tend to focus on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, but the days between them are in some ways just as important. These days, along with the High Holidays, are called the Yamim Nora’im (“Days of Awe”) or Aseret Y’mai Teshuvah (“Ten Days of Repentance”).
Cleaning your spiritual house
At Passover, Jews cleanse themselves of built-up ego (in the form of chametz; see Chapter 25). Similarly, the Days of Awe are a time for spiritual cleansing, awakening to the fact that people tend to become forgetful, and letting go of the past year to make room for the year to come.
Nevertheless, at Rosh Hashanah, Jews are clearly directed toward a renewed appreciation of God’s transcendence. They perceive God as the Greater Being in Whose Presence people become most aware of their human frailties and shortcomings.
Kapparot
Every culture and religion has some customs that seem really weird — stuff that really makes you go “huh?!” Judaism certainly has its fair share. Kapparot, which some very traditional Jews still perform on the last day before Yom Kippur, is one of these oddities. In this ritual, Jews swing live chickens over their head three times (men swing a rooster, and women swing a hen), announce that the animal serves as a substitute for them, slaughter it, and then donate it to the poor. In lieu of chickens, some wave money that they then donate to the needy. After all, it’s easier to swing a bag of money, and these days many needy folks welcome money more than a dead chicken.
Rabbis have long insisted that Judaism really doesn’t provide any grounds for this kind of vicarious sacrifice. Nonetheless, many Jews continue to do it, explaining that it’s an old tradition based on the giving of tzedakah (charity).
Real Beginnings Mean Real Changes