Crying out for a chance to change
ONE THING we know for sure, as we embark on the coming year… we don’t know anything for sure. But what I am sure about is the uncertainty that we are feeling with increasing and uncomfortable frequency; and it appears to be getting more frequent, not less so.
The Torah says the following about Rosh Hashanah: “Speak unto the children of Israel, saying: In the seventh month, in the first day of the month, shall be a solemn rest unto you, a memorial proclaimed with the blast of horns, a holy convocation.”
So what is it about blowing the shofar that requires all of this prayer and effort and organisation?
I want to propose something simple, but something that will get us all thinking and reset our Jewish compass on a path that will get us through today, tomorrow, Yom Kippur and the rest of the year.
In fact, my explanation is something that a young child could understand. Because that is the part of us that God is speaking to when it comes to Rosh Hashanah.
Have you ever noticed what words the Torah uses when describing prayer or calls to God?
Cry. Scream. Wail. Beseech. Entreat. Beg. Urge.
These are not the words used in the corridors of diplomacy, or protocol. They are not the measured tenor of a speech to be delivered in Parliament. They do not invoke the notion of a stiff upper lip or a dignified address. They are primal. They are urgent.
And they are meant to evoke a response. And the most adept at using these forms of communication… are very young children.
When a baby starts to cry, we immediately pay attention. And if we don’t, the baby screams even louder, and longer, and will not stop until it gets what it needs. It does not have access to a thesaurus. Or to media training. Or to speechwriters. Or social media. It is not an influencer or a thought leader. In fact, it doesn’t have access to any words at all. It just cries. If it is hungry, it cries. If it is cold or hot, it cries. If it is in pain, it cries.
One sound; one pitch; and it is incessant. And what sort of callous, unfeeling person would ignore the ongoing cries of a helpless little baby?
We are coming before God; not just on Rosh Hashanah, but every day of the year. Our job is to recognise that God is the ruler of the universe, but for many of us, this is a long process of evolving relationship with our creator.
If the past 18 months have taught us anything, it is the peeling away of unnecessary layers of both comfort and denial, to get to the heart of whatever it is we actually need. Whether it is family, or work, or health, or exams, or socialising or celebration. We have embraced the “less is more” and “more might get cancelled” approach to life. But we are moving through it, as we get better at navigating this unfolding and, as yet, indeterminate saga of our lives. Having pared back everything and pruned our existence and environments back to their cores, it is the ide a s of simplicity, honesty, vulnerability and openness to change and to uncertainty — that only faith in God can give us — that will be the perfect preparation for another year of uncertainty.
But just as the challenging things bring uncertainty, so do the celebrations. With nothing certain, and everything ahead of us to play out in multiple ways, let us have the strength and faith to adjust our approach to focus on deciding on a year of happiness, health, prosperity and reinvigoration in our devotion to Him.
We can expend as much energy on hope and optimism born of decades of experience before a pandemic, as we can on worry and fear about the months ahead.
So choose life. And grace. And compassion. And, most of all, forgiveness. Forgiveness of ourselves and our own shortcomings just as much as we are compelled to do for others. We can only do our best. But our best is usually far in excess of what we allow ourselves to believe is possible.
Here’s to 5782 — a year of possibilities!
Shana Tova!
Choose life. And grace. And compassion. And most of all forgiveness’