DIALECTICAL EMOTIONS: ROSH HASHANAH 5773

Shira Smiles shiur, September 2012

Summary by Channie Koplowitz Stein

            Rosh Hashanah evokes two contradictory emotions in us. On the one hand, there is joy. After all, this is a yom tov and we are commanded to eat, drink and rejoice. On the other hand, we experience awe and trepidation, for this is the Day of Judgment. How can we reconcile feeling these opposite emotions, these two states of mind, and how can we balance them? The most obvious instance of this anomaly is perhaps the fact that, although it is a yom tov, our feelings of awe and trepidation dictate that we do not recite Hallel as part of the Rosh Hashanah liturgy, the prayer whose every paragraph exudes joy and praise of Hashem,.
            The Talmud tells us that there are three books open on this day, the Book of the Righteous who are written for life, the Book of the Evildoers, who are written for death, and the Book of the Intermediate People whose judgment is suspended until Yom Kippur. Certainly the awareness of this process fills us with trepidation. If so, where does the joy come from?
            If we are being judged on this day, it is a new beginning and a new opportunity to reconcile with the Ribbonoh shel Olam and crown Him as our King. He is evaluating us and giving us our due. Having a new opportunity to bond with Hakodosh Boruch Hu is a cause of inner, true joy, as is any opportunity for a fresh start. If we understand this as deep joy rather than superficial happiness, we can more readily reconcile this feeling with the natural trepidation the day evokes. On Rosh Hashanah, says the Paamei Moed, I have the opportunity to rededicate myself to what is truly important and crown Hashem as my King. If on Rosh Hashanah we renew our acceptance of God’s sovereignty with joy, that joy will permeate the entire year, says the Sefas Emes, and we will experience the greatest joy in God’s sovereignty over us.
            It is to this purpose that the Rosh Hashanah liturgy repeatedly invokes God as King, “The holy King,” “The King of justice,” and other variations. We want to see God as King in every situation, says the Sichot Hitchazkut, al kol haolam kulo, for we recognize that He created every situation, and most especially, every situation in my life. Therefore I joyously crown Him King in my life, for He has shown me special love and personal providence in His constant involvement in my life. But that knowledge requires me to respond appropriately in every situation Hashem presents me with. It forces me to work on my midot, my character traits. When I restrain myself from getting angry at my son who stubbornly insisted on pouring the grape juice and then spilled it all over himself and the Shabbos table, I can thank Hashem for this situation to teach me patience. When I have the opportunity to become part of the “in” crowd by sharing a juicy bit of gossip, but I distance myself from this crowd, I am crowning Hashem as my King and coming closer to Him. Hashem has tailor made these opportunities so that we can improve ourselves, Is this not a reason to be joyous?
            But a question begs to be asked: Surely God doesn’t need to write down our deeds, for He remembers everything. What then is the purpose of these books? It is reasonable to argue that the books are there for us rather than for Hashem. The Armonot Hazman uses the verse from Tehillim to begin his explanation: “The sea … will roar. Rivers will clap hands, mountains will exult together – before Hashem, for He will have arrived to judge the earth…” The entire world is waiting for God’s judgment, yet there seems to be great joy rather than fear at this prospect. Why?  Because, continues Armonot Hazman, when our deeds are recorded, we can come before Hashem not as beggars asking for handouts for the new year, but as individuals worthy of Hashem’s benevolence, thus creating a bond of friendship and partnering with Hashem. But, naturally, when our deeds are written and we know we are responsible for the verdict we receive, we will also experience trepidation at the thought.
            These two contrasting emotions are echoed in the differing sounds of the shofar. The tekiyah blast is the joyous herald as we greet our King, while the teruah echoes the sound of crying and of fear.
            Rabbi Roberts cites Rabbi Moshe Feinstein in offering another dimension to our joy. He contrasts a trial in a human court with a trial in the heavenly court. In a human court, once we go to trial, we are powerless over our fate. However, in the heavenly court with the Judge already in attendance, we still have the ability to influence the verdict and change the judgment. By doing teshuvah even at this late date we can reverse the judgment. Isn’t this reason to rejoice?
            Further, adds Rabbi Wolbe, God judges us according to where we stand at the very moment of judgment. We may have sinned grievously, but if on Rosh Hashanah we truly repent and resolve to do better, at that moment we are righteous, even though we may falter in our resolve as the year progresses. As the shofar sounds and we crown Hashem as the King of our being, our soul wants to do His bidding completely, and we ask Him to help us fulfill this wish.
            The Netivot Shalom points out that the three books are open before us, and we decide into which book we want to be written. Our books are within our souls, the true source of our lives. If we truly want the relationship with Hashem, we write ourselves in the Book of the Righteous; if this world of earthly pleasure is what we crave, we inscribe ourselves in the Book of the Wicked. And if we are caught between the two, we crave the relationship, but we fear the temptations of this world will be too difficult to withstand, we write ourselves in the Book of the Intermediate, the Undecided. When we ask Hashem to “write us in the Book of Life”, explains Rabbi Walkin citing the Chassid Yavetz, we are asking Him to write us in our Book of Life, to imprint on our souls the desire for true life and to cleanse our souls of any impurity we may have besmirched them with. The joy of Rosh Hashanah is that we control our fate, and that is also the source of our trepidation.
            The book, the written word is a record, a chronicle of what was done and what transpired. That all our deeds are written down, says Rabbi Pincus citing the Vilna Gaon, gives value to our lives and raises us above the animals. Our actions thereby attain permanence by affecting not only the physical world, but also the spiritual realm. If everything I do is written and remembered, I attain a kind of immortality. I am important, even as I may tremble at the thought that the written record evokes judgment. But as each action is written, we have the opportunity to use the Wite-out of teshuvah and correct what is written each step of the way during the year and especially on Rosh Hashanah. When we greet each other with the standard, “Ketivah vachatima tova, may you be written and sealed for a good year,” we are offering a blessing as well as a greeting. We are blessing our neighbors with the hope that they merit transforming their essence, their inner world, their souls into a Book of Life and Righteousness.
            It is all written, but we do not recite our confession on this day, for this day is not about us, but about the King’s coronation, and we stand in awe as we bear witness to His sovereignty over the world He created, says the Mearchei Lev. And Rabbi Pincus continues this train of thought. All creation is singing God’s praises, the symphony fills the universe, and we, because of the element of trepidation within us, cannot verbalize the Hallel on this day, but our souls nevertheless want to be part of this pageant. As the shofar heralds His coronation and then rings out te-r-u-ah, we want to establish the relationship of a close friend with Hakodosh Boruch Hu, a relationship as a r-ay-ah, a true friend. Hashem wants this relationship as well. He wants to move from the seat of judgment to the throne of mercy. He is just waiting for us to make the first move.
            We have just crowned our best Friend as our King. While we may tremble in His presence, we recognize that He provides us with everything we need at all times. We know He will always look for ways to judge us favorably, provided we show Him we want to retain our special relationship. And so, on Rosh Hashanah we rejoice.