The High Holy Days: A Time of Personal Change and Spiritual
Return
Aug. 28, 2007
As the leaves on the trees begin to turn, local Jews, as well
as Jews all over the world begin the process of t'shuvah, a
Hebrew word meaning repentance which comes from the root "to
turn or return." For them, autumn ushers in the High Holy Days,
during which they turn their attention away from the
distractions of everyday life and toward God, away from outward
denial of wrongdoing and toward acknowledgement of sins, away
from unwanted behavior and toward repentance. At this time of
year, change is in the air for Jews all around the world.
The High Holy Days include both Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New
Year, and Yom Kippur, the Day of Repentance. Thus, this period
marks the joyous beginning of a new year as well as a somber
period of introspection. However, preparations for the "Days of
Awe" – the period between Rosh Hashanah and the end of Yom
Kippur, begin on September 8 with the observance of Selichot, a
late evening or nighttime service involving the recitation of
penitential prayers. Many Jews take time both with their
community and on their own to begin the process of evaluating
their own behavior over the past year on this night, and then
continue doing so until the last sound of the shofar, the rams
horn traditionally blown on this holiday, at sundown on Yom
Kippur.
Although some Jews observe Selichot for a full month prior to
Rosh Hashanah, others begin their observance approximately a
week before the start of this holiday. In either case, this
religious observance might be likened to a "warm up" for the
High Holidays, my old Rabbi Steven Bob of Congregation Etz
Chaim in
Lombard
, once told me. "Before you go running, you want to stretch a
little bit. This is spiritual stretching. The Selichot service
introduces the theme and melodies of the High Holy Days while
also stressing God's royalty and our modest position. We
recognize that God is judging us, but…we don't want justice, we
want mercy," said Bob.
Selichot marks the first time during the High Holidays that
Jews hear the shofar blown. Much symbolism surrounds the
blowing of the shofar, but it is most commonly seen as a
wake-up call. Likened to an alarm clock, the shofar says, "Wake
up and take a look at the way you've been living, and do
something about it." Blowing the shofar on Rosh Hashanah
represents a call to return to God. During the year, we tend to
stray from the path or get distracted, and we have to come
back, turn towards God once again.
At the conclusion of the Selichot service, Jews have a week to
begin their self-assessment before Rosh Hashanah. Although this
holiday is a joyous one, it does mark the beginning of 10 days
of introspection and repentance. On Rosh Hashanah the liturgy
speaks of people "being written in the Book of Life." If they
sincerely repent for sins and rectify wrongs from the last
year, on Yom Kippur their names are "sealed" in the Book. If
they do not, their names are erased. While this language can be
seen as a liturgical poetic image, it serves to remind Jews
that what we do counts whether it is well known or whether it
is secret. With our deeds, we write on the pages of our own
Book of Life.
The Book of Life also provides a beautiful metaphor that
reminds us we are fragile and don't know whether we will
survive the year or not. Should we not survive, it seems a good
idea to atone before meeting God and facing whatever fate lies
before us.
The stress on being written in the Book of Life also allows
Jews to think about the fact that our fate is not sealed
forever, that we have an active role in what the future may
bring us. Judaism has a doctrine of fee will; thus, we not
pawns that play out Divine Will. The Yom Kippur liturgy
stresses this fact, repeating over and over again that
repentance, prayer and just actions can avert the severity of
the decree.
We don't often think of change as easy. It seems easier to stay
the way we are and where we are. Yet, change is inevitable and
often forced upon us. At this time of year, the Jewish
tradition doesn't force us to change but asks us to change. We
are reminded of the necessity of change – change for the
better.
We can see this as an obligation. We can see it as an
opportunity.
Either way, the Jewish New Year
offers us a chance – for some of us a second chance in addition
to the secular New Year – to look at ourselves, our
relationships and our lives and to set new goals, to create new
priorities and to make amends for the wrongs we might have
consciously or unconsciously, purposefully or accidentally
committed over the past 12 months. This, too, can be difficult
– to honestly look at ourselves and our deeds. If we are
willing to do the work, however, the period from Selichot to
Yom Kippur provides a chance for t'shuvah, to turn towards what
we want in our selves, in our lives and in the world, to return
to our best selves. It's a time to write our life for the
coming year, to envision the year as we would like it to be and
ourselves as we would like to become. And then when we hear the
shofar blown in those last moments of Yom Kippur, we know that
change has descended upon us. Or, more accurately, we have
brought change upon ourselves
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