Rosh Hashanah 5781
There is a stretch of highway that I often travel. At one point along the way, I can see a decline in the distance, leading to an eventual incline. As I approach the start of the decline, I feel like I can see into the future, for when I reach the top of the incline, I can look back and see from where I have come. Today is the beginning of that stretch of road. Or perhaps it is the end. I think back to Rosh Hashanah 5780, one year ago. Transporting myself back, I anticipated the journey I would travel in the year ahead. The time was rich with anticipation, the fulfillment of dreams on the horizon, and milestones along the way. Today I look back and remember. But like you, this last year threw an unexpected boulder onto my highway, causing adjustments in my travel plans.
We say that future history books will tell the story of this year, documenting how humanity was stricken with a virus, a plague, or whatever you choose to call it. But what those history books will not document is how we as individuals changed – physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Today, this Rosh Hashanah, is a high point on our journey along the highway, giving us pause to look back to what we were, and to put into action what we are to become.
There is a teaching in the Talmud that says that when human beings mint coins, they do it from a single mold, and as a result each coin comes out looking identical. However, human beings, ourselves, were also minted from the singular mold of creation. And yet each and every one of us comes out different as unique individuals, and as a result we are called to be our unique selves as we live our lives. That each of us has our own journey and our own path. And that no two journeys should be identical to one another. However, as often is the case, we can be tempted to look to the path of others, to the journey of others, and we forget our own. Even more so, we may sometimes forget that we came from that singular mold of creation, and that we are called to be our own unique selves. That we are called to be that holy spark in motion, that everywhere we go and that everything we do, we bring our own unique personal insight into that matter. An insight that no one else could have brought to that situation.
Today is Yom Teruah. We have been leading up to this day from the beginning of the month of Elul by sounding the shofar.
There is a parable about a time before there were any fire engines , fire brigades and electric fire alarms, and most houses were built of wood, a fire was a terrible thing. A whole town, or a good part of it, could go up in flames and smoke. And so, when fire broke out, everyone left his business or work, and rushed to help put out the fire. There was a watchtower that was taller than the other buildings, where a watchman kept a lookout all the time. As soon as he saw smoke or fire, he would sound the alarm. The townspeople would then form a human chain between the fire and the nearest well, and pass on to each other pails of water with which to put out the fire.
Once it happened that a boy from a small village came to town. He stopped at an inn on the outskirts of the town. Suddenly he heard the sound of a bugle. He asked the innkeeper what it meant.
“Whenever we have a fire,” the innkeeper explained to the boy, “we sound the bugle, and the fire is quickly put out.”
“How wonderful!” thought the village boy. “What a surprise and sensation I will bring to my village!”
Thereupon, the village boy went and bought himself a bugle. When he returned to his village, he was full of excitement. He called all the villagers together. “Listen, good people,” he exclaimed. “No need to be afraid of fire any more. Just watch me, and see how quickly I will put out a fire!”
Saying this, he ran to the nearest hut and set fire to its straw roof. The fire began to spread very quickly.
“Don’t be alarmed!” cried the boy. “Now watch me.”
The boy began to blow the bugle with all his might, interrupting it only to catch his breath, and to say, “Wait, this will put out the fire in no time!” But the fire did not seem to care much for the music, and merely hopped from one roof to another, until the entire village was in flames.
The villagers now began to scold and curse the boy. “You fool,” they cried. “Did you think that the mere blowing of the trumpet would put the fire out? It is only the call of an alarm, to wake up the people, if they are asleep, or to break them away from their business and work, and send them to the well to draw water and put out the fire!”
We are reminded of this story when we think of the shofar that is sounded on this day of Rosh Hashanah. While sounding the shofar has intrinsic value as one of God's commandments, there is another element to the mitzvah. Some think like that village boy, that the sound of the shofar itself will do everything for them. They think that they may continue to “sleep,” or go about their business, there being no need to change their way of life and daily conduct; the shofar sounded in the synagogue will surely bring them a sweet new year.
But, like the bugle in the story, the shofar is the sound of an “alarm.” It has a message: “Wake up, you sleepers, think about your ways, return to God, put out the ‘fire’ that is threatening to destroy your Jewish homes. Go to the well, the well of living waters, the Torah and mitzvot. Hurry, before it is too late!”
That is why, immediately after the shofar is sounded, we exclaim: “Happy are the people who understand the meaning of the sound of the shofar; they walk in Your light, O God.”
Reb Nachman said: “The day that you were born is the day that God decided the world could not exist without you.”
Ribbono shel olam, Master of the universe, may this day of Teruah, this Head of the Year, be a day in which we renew our journey. May we remember that we are an intrinsic part of God’s world, created as one humanity and yet as individuals with unique gifts. May we acknowledge that our place on this earth is meant to be one in which we strive to improve our own lives, the lives of others, and the healing of humanity. May we have the wisdom to use the path that brought us to this time as a roadmap to make ourselves, and those around us a better version of our selves. And may this year of 5781 remove the boulders, the rocks, and even the smallest of stones from our paths, as a result of our individual and collective actions joining hands and hearts. And let us say: “Amen.
