Rosh Hashana 5786, the Jewish New Year, began on the evening of September 22. The High Holidays, the Days of Awe, end on Yom Kippur, October 2.
Following are some of the Rosh Hashanah postcards created over the last century. You may specially note the last two, one that appears to be a Pop Art version, one that wishes a good year by sitting on a sofa, mustached and open shirted, lasciviously open groping a short-skirted friend. I’m not sure that’s a kosher way of greeting the holiest days of the year, but who knows? God knows!
I have a small collection of older High Holiday machzor (prayer books), including ones used by my grandfather and father.
The jewel of that collection is the one pictured here. It is called Form of Prayers for the Feast of New-Year With English Translation, published by the Hebrew Publishing Company on Canal Street, New York in 1907. The book, with ornate metal clasp, is 3.5 inches x 5 inches.
The cover is mother of pearl and metal. The centerpiece is a carved decoration inscribed with the numbers of the Ten Commandments—in Roman numerals! I think this looks something like a hamsa—a spiritual amulet shaped like a hand, popular in Jewish and other traditions. Maybe not.
I would like to share more pages, but the book is delicate, having been lovingly held together with taped binding during the past century plus. The pages I’ve included below are from the concluding service on Yom Kippur, the Neilah. This offers a tiny idea of what this precious book is like.
Ashamnu אָשַׁמְנוּ nahn maswuwlun نحن مسؤولون We are responsible
Bagadnu בָּגַדְנוּ nahn nakhun نحن نخون We betray
Gazalnu גָּזַלְנוּ nahn nasriq نحن نسرق We steal
Dibarnu dofi דִבַּרְנוּ דֹפִי nahn nahtaqir نحن نحتقر We scorn
He-evinu הֶעֱוִינוּ nahn natasaraf bishakl munharif نحن نتصرف بشكل منحرف We act perversely
V’hirshanu וְהִרְשַׁעְנוּ nahn qusa نحن قساة We are cruel
Zadnu זַדְנוּ nahn nukhatit نحن نخطط We scheme
Chamasnu חָמַסְנוּ nahn eanifun نحن عنيفون We are violent
Tafalnu shaker טָפַלְנוּ שֶקֶר nahn alaiftira’ نحن الافتراء We slander
Ya-atznu ra יָעַצְנוּ רַע nahn nabtakir alshara نحن نبتكر الشر We devise evil
Kizavnu כִּזַבְנוּ nahn naqul al’akadhib نحن نقول الأكاذيب We lie
Latznu לַצְנוּ nahn naskhar نحن نسخر We ridicule
Maradnu מָרַדְנוּ nahn naesi نحن نعصي We disobey
Ni-atznu נִאַצְנוּ nahn nasi’ نحن نسيء We abuse
Sararnu סָרַרְנוּ nahn natahadak نحن نتحداك We defy
Avinu עָוִינוּ nahn nufsid نحن نفسد We corrupt
Tzararnu צָרַרְנוּ nahn eadaayiyuwna نحن عدائيون. We are hostile
Kishinu oref קִשִׁינוּ עֹרֶף nahn eanidun نحن عنيدون We are stubborn
Rashanu רָשַׁעְנוּ nahn ghayr ‘akhlaqiiyn نحن غير أخلاقيين We are immoral
Shichatnu שִׁחַתְנוּ nahn naqtul نحن نقتل We kill
Tiavnu תִּעַבְנוּ nahn nufsid نحن نفسد We spoil
Ta·inu תָּעִינוּ nahn nudil نحن نضل We go astray
Titanu תִּעְתָּעְנוּ nahn naqud alakharin ‘iilaa aldalal نحن نقود الآخرين إلى الضلال We lead others astray
The Jewish High Holidays 5785/2024—the ten Days of Repentance and Awe—begin with Rosh Hashanah, the New Year, on the evening of October 2, and end with Yom Kippur, the Day of Repentance, on October 10.
Confession is a centerpiece of the holiday. In the liturgy, Vidui includes two confessional prayers, Ashamnu and Al Cheit. Ashamnu is the shorter list of transgressions. Al Cheit is a longer detailed list of particular wrongdoings.
The past year has been one of tragedy, suffering and war in Israel, Gaza, the Middle East, and the Jewish world. Whatever our faith, status, history, ideology, grievances, or rationales, we are reminded now that none of is above responsibility, none of us as above the need for confession.
Above is my adaptation of Ashamnu. In Hebrew it is an acrostic, the first letter of each line in alphabetical order. English translations of those words vary, but all are admissions of conduct to be fixed in the year ahead. I’ve changed the common translation of the first word, Ashamnu. Often translated as “we have trespassed” or “we are guilty”, I have borrowed from Abraham Joshua Heschel. He famously said about his early protest of the Vietnam War: “In a free society, few are guilty, but all are responsible.”
My version also adds a rough translation of each expression into Arabic. Not in the least literate in the language, I’ve relied on a digital translator. For any errors in this, small or egregious, my humble and sincere apologies.
The message is that all of us, from the heinous to the heavenly, are responsible. The High Holidays insist that we are imperfect in ways that we may not acknowledge or may ignore. Our hearts may be hard when they should be soft. Why else do we literally beat our chests as we recite each of our wrongs? So we can locate our hearts, reach in, and know what condition they are in.
Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year 5785, begins on the evening of October 2. The ten High Holidays continue until Yom Kippur on October 12.
The High Holidays are known as the Days of Repentance or the Days of Awe.
These holidays are complicated. Like SweeTARTS.
We take an unvarnished look back at what we’ve done and who we’ve been in the past year. We confess our transgressions in excruciating detail. We make a solemn commitment to do better in the year ahead.
We also leave the past year behind for the better sweeter year to come. The better sweeter us. We eat apples dipped in honey as a reminder of that possibility.
The term “Days of Awe” reflects a few things.
There is a belief that all this occurs in the face of a God that is powerful, judgmental and merciful. Something to be in awe of and afraid of.
Another perspective is that when we set aside days to look at ourselves, at others, at our relation and connection to others and to everything, we are in awe of a wonder-filled existence. Awesome
That is why we may call these the Days of Awesome. When some of us think of awesome, besides thinking theologically and philosophically, we naturally think about The Lego Movie.
Above is an image of Emmet and Wyldstyle reading from the High Holidays machzor (prayer book). The message: Everything is awesome.
Some may think that mixing up this solemn time with SweeTARTS and Legos trivializes and even desecrates the holidays. Or maybe during those special days, everything really is awesome.
Every year, on Rosh ha-Shanah, everything returns to its very beginning. Creation is renewed. All that was created in the beginning comes into being again. Thus each Rosh ha-Shanah the world is re-created.
—Sefer Netivot ha-Shalom, commentary by Solomon ben Joel Dubno (1793)
In the realm of spirit, there is no difference between a second and a century, between an hour and an age. Rabbi Judah the Patriarch cried: “There are those who gain eternity in a lifetime, others who gain it in one brief hour.” One good hour may be worth a lifetime; an instant of returning to God may restore what has been lost in years of escaping from Him. “Better is one hour of repentance and good deeds in this world than the whole life in the world to come.” (Avot 4:22) Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath
“The goal of our life’s effort is to reach the other shore, Nirvana. Prajna paramita, the true wisdom of life, is that in each step of the way, the other shore is actually reached.” — Shunryu Suzuki
These days in September, three celebrations coincide: Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year; Ohigan, the twice-yearly Japanese celebration of the equinox; the autumn equinox itself.
One way to harmonize these is to look first at Ohigan. The name literally means “other shore”, and is taken two ways. There are the ancestors honored who have crossed over to the other shore. And there is the crossing over to enlightenment, on the path of the paramitas (perfections): giving (dāna), morality (śīla), patience or forbearance (kṣānti), effort (vīrya), concentration (dhyāna) and wisdom (prajñā).
Then there is Rosh Hashanah, the Birthday of the World, the start of Ten Days of Awe, during which through teshuva (turning), tefilla (prayer) and tzedaka (righteousness) we emerge by the time of Yom Kippur on the other shore as newer people in a new year.
It is autumn again. Summer is left behind again. We can live with giving, morality, patience, effort, concentration, or wisdom, or not. We hope at least to arrive safely on the other shore of winter, maybe more enlightened or newer.
On the first day of Rosh Hashanah, the custom of tashlich is to throw bread into a body of water, casting your sins away. (When no natural body of water is available, a well or even a bucket has been known to do.)
A passage from Micah is recited:
What god can compare with you; taking fault away,
pardoning crime,
not cherishing anger for ever
but delighting in showing mercy?
Once more have pity on us
tread down our faults
to the bottom of the sea
throw all our sins. Micah 7:18-19, Jerusalem Bible translation
Fault, crime, anger, sins. Ourselves and others. Pardoning, mercy, pity. Hard for ourselves and others. And as delightful as ducks and fish eating bread on the lake.
If you believe that you can damage, then believe that you can fix.
If you believe that you can harm, then believe that you can heal. Rebbe Nachman of Breslov (1772-1810)
I lit a candle
For the care of those
In the storm’s way
The light answered:
It is up to you.
The Jewish High Holy Days—the Days of Awe—begin with Rosh Hashanah, the New Year, on Wednesday evening, September 20. In preparation for that, on Saturday night, September 16, are the prayers and contemplation of Selichot.
I’ve written before about a controversial Selichot prayer, Machnisei Rachamim (Conveyers of Compassion):
Conveyers of compassions, obtain our mercy before the Master of compassion,
Makers of prayer, make our prayer heard before the Hearer of prayer.
Makers of wailing, make our wail heard, before the Hearer of wailing.
Conveyers of tears, convey our tears before the King who yields to tears.
Strive to raise up supplication, raise up supplication and plea,
Before the King, high and exalted. The King, high and exalted.
The controversy is theological and has gone on for centuries, with the prayer being redacted and even deleted among some Jewish communities and traditions. Machnisei Rachamim asks angels to serve as intermediaries for prayer, and some claim that this is wholly inconsistent with the Jewish theology of an unintermediated and direct line between Jews and God. One contemporary rabbi who opposes it claims that its continued recitation is a symptom of Judaism becoming “too spiritual.”
Rather than weighing in on this dispute, and being a Jew who is probably “too spiritual” for some (that is, whether it is angels, saints or bodhisattvas, humankind needs all the spiritual help it can get), I turned to the greatest of modern Jewish theologians, Abraham Joshua Heschel, for some thoughts on angels. I found this story he told, which is not only about angels, but about the Torah portion read on the second day of Rosh Hashanah—the akeda, the binding of Isaac.
At a Vietnam War protest in 1967, Heschel talked about being a child in Poland, learning about the akeda from his rabbi. Heschel said:
“Isaac was on the way to Mt. Moriah with his father. There he lay on the altar, bound, waiting to be sacrificed. My heart began to beat very fast. I actually sobbed with pity for Isaac. Behold, Abraham now lifted the knife and how my heart froze within me with fright. Suddenly the voice of the angel was heard, ‘Abraham, lay not thine hand upon the lad for now I know that thou fearest God.’ And here I broke into tears and wept aloud. ‘Why are you crying?’ asked my rabbi. ‘You know that Isaac was not killed.’ I said to him, still weeping, ‘But rabbi, suppose the angel had come a second too late!’ The rabbi comforted me and calmed me by telling me that an angel cannot ever come too late.”
And then Heschel said: “An angel cannot come too late, my friends, but we, made of flesh and blood, we may come too late”
Bob Schwartz 