Rosh Hashana

Rosh Hashanah is the celebration of the Jewish New Year. Not to be confused with the secular New Year, except for the fact that we also get dressed up, wear funny hats, make a lot of noise, and blow a horn. 

However, western society did adopt one major new year's tradition from us: The custom of resolutions. 

Rosh Hashana is a time for personal introspection, reviewing our misdeeds, vowing to try harder, and to be better. Much like the Gregorian new year, these promises usually last about 10 days, in our case, until after the fast of Yom Kippur. To be fair, let them try starving for 26 hours, without TV or wireless, then huddle together in a poorly ventilated area with 800 people who haven't brushed their teeth and see if they still have it in them to "love thy neighbour". Frankly, my neighbours are just lucky I didn't eat them last year. Or one of their pudgy kids who kept dancing around me with his juice box and bag of creme-filled cookies while my tongue stuck to my lip from saliva-depletion. There was a brief stare-down before the spirit of the lord reminded me it was a time to take the high road, to be the bigger man. Plus, he was only 4.

Anyway, back to the holiness.  Yom HaZikkaron (the day of remembrance), as it is called in the Torah, is a time of peace for Jews. Some wouldn't think so because of the security force protecting the synagogue, but not for  fear of hate-crime or terrorist activity. No, the greater threat is that someone might sneak their way in without having paid their dues, after we shelled out our hard-earned dollars to get good seats. THAT, my friends is unacceptable. You're not taking my tallis, mister!

Where was I?

Ah yes, the peaceful holidays. A time of rest? Not really. When I was a kid, services started at 9:30 and ended around noon-ish, but apparently sleep became a sin around the '90s, and it seems they begin earlier every year. Now, they pretty much start after dinner the night before but they don't end any earlier. They just sing a lot slower.

Then there's the blowing of the shofar (Ram's horn). One of the paramount observances of the holiday. A powerful and moving experience, a total of 100 notes are sounded on each day, everyone evoking the emotions of thousands of years of Jewish joy and pain, victory and loss, and nagging and kvetching and yelling until eventual silence. Not actual silence. Jewish silence, where you communicate through a third party like "You tell your brother that your other brother's not talking to him. Thank you." . In either case, the shofar unites us all, and for those few brief moments, we the Jewish people are together again, as one.

Another popular tradition is to eat apples dipped in honey, symbolizing a sweet new year, sponsored by The Jewish dental association. Other people who make a nice living this time of year are the local chicken merchant,  the butcher and the guy that sells gefilte fish.

On the first afternoon, there's a wonderful tradition called Tashlikh, where we walk to a creek or river and empty our pockets (as if there were anything left in them), symbolically casting off our sins. We always have a few of those left over, although contrary to popular belief, they're not all in our pockets.

For non-Jews wishing to participate, the appropriate greeting is Shana Tova, or L'shana Tova, not like the fellow who approached me last year saying, "Hey man, Rosh Hashana!" I didn't have the heart to correct him, but when I bumped into him again in December, I simply said, "Hey man, Christmas!". I think I made my point.

So, to all my family, friends, and people who greet me like friends but really don't like me, I wish you all the very best of health, happiness and prosperity. L'shana tova tikatevu vetekhatemu (Ask someone else. I'm out of explanations.)

Next year in Jerusalem?