ROSH HASHANA AND Yom Kippur come around every year with predictable consistency and it is sometimes hard to motivate ourselves for another round of synagogue attendance, sermons, dinners etc. Perhaps if we recognized that each year possesses its “mystical karma” and carries its own unique message, we would be energized anew and open our hearts to the soul stirring inspiration of this year’s High Holy Day season.
This year is called the year of hachel — gathering. In the times of the Temple, on the Sukkot following the shmita — the sabbatical year, the Torah mandates that the entire Jewish people, men, women and children gather together at the Temple for a massive assembly at which the king would read passages from the Torah before the assembled and inspire them to rededicate themselves to God and the Torah.
The eternity of the Torah leaps over the bounds of time and place. Hence, even those mitzvot that are restricted to the Temple precincts, such as the mitzva of hachel, also have a spiritual content which may be applied at all times.
The mitzva of hachel represents the strength that we have when we gather together as one community and encourages us to humbly recognize the inherent Godliness in our fellow and to nurture our own spark of Godliness, creating a sense of unity and harmony within the community and ourselves as well.
Just as individual Jews can be brought together to form cohesive communities, every individual can organize his own personal hachel – by marshaling and harmonizing all the diverse faculties within his own spiritual personality. An individual’s leadership qualities, his receptivity, his ability to learn from others – all these inner thrusts can be mobilized and directed toward the goals of hachel. With best wishes for a happy, healthy & blessed new year.
Rabbi Levi Block
Union County Torah Center, Westfield
Showing posts with label Rosh Hashana. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rosh Hashana. Show all posts
Friday, October 24, 2008
From the Pulpit — Messages for the New Year
ROSH HASHANA is the Jewish New Year, when we celebrate the creation of mankind. We are the “chosen of all creations” and it is, therefore, incumbent upon us to lead by example in bettering the world we live in.
Rosh Hashana 5769 begins a year of hachel, which means “gathering and unity.” At the time when our Holy Temple was still standing, all Jews – men, women and children (even infants) — would gather in Jerusalem every seven years and the king would read selections from the Torah to them. These words of Torah helped to strengthen their faith in God and their dedication to His commandments.
Although we have no Holy Temple, the Lubavitcher Rebbe encouraged us to organize hachel gatherings to strengthen and deepen our relationship with God and the Torah. As our connection with God grows, so does our connection with each other. Any differences between us begin to seem trivial and insignificant. Regardless of each person’s strength or weakness, we are all united as one, with a greater awareness of God and his presence in our daily lives.
We can accomplish this on many different levels – in our homes, in our workplaces, in our communities. We can sit down with our families on Shabbat to share a d’var Torah or sing a Shabbat song together. We can periodically get together with our coworkers to do a good deed.
The harmony that will grow from our active participation during this year will hasten the arrival of Moshiach and, thus, bring the ultimate fulfillment of hachel with complete and joyous unity.
May God grant us all a joyful, prosperous, and sweet New Year.
Rabbi Mordechai Kanelsky
Congregation Shomrei Torah Ohel Yosef Yitzchok and Bris Avrohom, Hillside
Rosh Hashana 5769 begins a year of hachel, which means “gathering and unity.” At the time when our Holy Temple was still standing, all Jews – men, women and children (even infants) — would gather in Jerusalem every seven years and the king would read selections from the Torah to them. These words of Torah helped to strengthen their faith in God and their dedication to His commandments.
Although we have no Holy Temple, the Lubavitcher Rebbe encouraged us to organize hachel gatherings to strengthen and deepen our relationship with God and the Torah. As our connection with God grows, so does our connection with each other. Any differences between us begin to seem trivial and insignificant. Regardless of each person’s strength or weakness, we are all united as one, with a greater awareness of God and his presence in our daily lives.
We can accomplish this on many different levels – in our homes, in our workplaces, in our communities. We can sit down with our families on Shabbat to share a d’var Torah or sing a Shabbat song together. We can periodically get together with our coworkers to do a good deed.
The harmony that will grow from our active participation during this year will hasten the arrival of Moshiach and, thus, bring the ultimate fulfillment of hachel with complete and joyous unity.
May God grant us all a joyful, prosperous, and sweet New Year.
Rabbi Mordechai Kanelsky
Congregation Shomrei Torah Ohel Yosef Yitzchok and Bris Avrohom, Hillside
Welcoming the New Year in a Different Paris
October 23, 2008 - Mara Sokolsky, Jewish Exponent Feature
This past erev Rosh Hashanah found my husband and I scurrying through the streets of Paris's Jewish quarter. Hours earlier, those streets pulsed with the sounds of schmoozing and shopping. We, along with local Parisians and a gaggle of tourists feasted on Mi-va-mi's falafel l'authentique and Sacha Finkelsztajn's Viennese strudel.
But now the streets were quiet, the shops closed. The new year was at hand.
More than 30 years ago, I spent my junior year abroad in Paris. Young, eager and fluent in French, I soaked up the beauty and culture of that city like a happy sponge. Now, on our first big empty-nest vacation, I wanted to share some of that long-ago magic with my husband.
And magic it was. We glided on a boat under the magnificent bridges traversing the Seine. We climbed the hills of Montmartre; we sat with our espresso and watched passers-by from a string of outdoor cafes.
As Rosh Hashanah approached, we finalized our holiday plans with the local Chabad rabbi. He directed us, in Yiddish-tinged French, to a shteibel, a small house of prayer on the second floor of a nondescript building in the heart of the Jewish quarter. That's where my husband and I were hurrying as the old year fell away.
Lubavitch Chasidim are wonderfully hospitable, but they aren't known for their decorating style. The shteibel had all the makings of a beautiful, old Paris apartment: delicate moldings, chandeliers, hand-painted designs along the tops of the walls. Yet, mostly what you saw was a crowded, makeshift shul, with chairs, benches and tattered prayerbooks strewn next to a small women's section.
I sat alone in that section. Of course! The Lubavitch wives were home preparing dinner. Ultimately, three young women with various nose and lip piercings joined my ranks. They were traveling together from Australia and, like us, had invitations to go home with one of the families after the davening.
Our host was a warm, chatty dentist who had become Lubavitch in his early 20s. His cultured wife spoke excellent English. Only five of their 10 children were at home, but they had guests around their table from Algiers and Berlin. In a lively polyglot of languages, we chatted, gorged ourselves, and dribbled enough honey to help ensure a sweet new year.
But we needed to hear the shofar. In the morning, we went to the Synagogue des Tournelles, which we'd heard was beautiful and was within walking distance of where we were staying.
Tickets weren't required, but our admission depended upon a convincing argument to the guards posted outside. When they finally accepted that we were wandering Jews looking to be with our brethren, they opened the doors to the most- breathtaking house of worship I'd ever seen, much like a lavish European opera house.
I climbed the stairs to the balcony. Few women were listening to the service; most were chatting amiably. Occasionally, I'd hear a line in Arabic. So many Jews in France have North African roots. The Sephardic melodies were mesmerizing, so distinct from our Ashkenazi ones at home.
My husband remarked later that the men occasionally davened, but mostly kissed each other (four times on the cheek in true French fashion) and chatted as much as the women.
But when it came time for the shofar, the shul became still. All the men raised their tallitot over their heads. The women whipped out scarves and held them over their heads. It was a bit like watching everyone go under his or her own chupah.
I marveled at this ritual. Although far from home, it felt entirely natural to experience a connection with fellow Jews in heeding the call to be awake and centered as we entered the promise of the new year.
Mara Sokolsky is a freelance writer living in Providence, R.I.
This past erev Rosh Hashanah found my husband and I scurrying through the streets of Paris's Jewish quarter. Hours earlier, those streets pulsed with the sounds of schmoozing and shopping. We, along with local Parisians and a gaggle of tourists feasted on Mi-va-mi's falafel l'authentique and Sacha Finkelsztajn's Viennese strudel.
But now the streets were quiet, the shops closed. The new year was at hand.
More than 30 years ago, I spent my junior year abroad in Paris. Young, eager and fluent in French, I soaked up the beauty and culture of that city like a happy sponge. Now, on our first big empty-nest vacation, I wanted to share some of that long-ago magic with my husband.
And magic it was. We glided on a boat under the magnificent bridges traversing the Seine. We climbed the hills of Montmartre; we sat with our espresso and watched passers-by from a string of outdoor cafes.
As Rosh Hashanah approached, we finalized our holiday plans with the local Chabad rabbi. He directed us, in Yiddish-tinged French, to a shteibel, a small house of prayer on the second floor of a nondescript building in the heart of the Jewish quarter. That's where my husband and I were hurrying as the old year fell away.
Lubavitch Chasidim are wonderfully hospitable, but they aren't known for their decorating style. The shteibel had all the makings of a beautiful, old Paris apartment: delicate moldings, chandeliers, hand-painted designs along the tops of the walls. Yet, mostly what you saw was a crowded, makeshift shul, with chairs, benches and tattered prayerbooks strewn next to a small women's section.
I sat alone in that section. Of course! The Lubavitch wives were home preparing dinner. Ultimately, three young women with various nose and lip piercings joined my ranks. They were traveling together from Australia and, like us, had invitations to go home with one of the families after the davening.
Our host was a warm, chatty dentist who had become Lubavitch in his early 20s. His cultured wife spoke excellent English. Only five of their 10 children were at home, but they had guests around their table from Algiers and Berlin. In a lively polyglot of languages, we chatted, gorged ourselves, and dribbled enough honey to help ensure a sweet new year.
But we needed to hear the shofar. In the morning, we went to the Synagogue des Tournelles, which we'd heard was beautiful and was within walking distance of where we were staying.
Tickets weren't required, but our admission depended upon a convincing argument to the guards posted outside. When they finally accepted that we were wandering Jews looking to be with our brethren, they opened the doors to the most- breathtaking house of worship I'd ever seen, much like a lavish European opera house.
I climbed the stairs to the balcony. Few women were listening to the service; most were chatting amiably. Occasionally, I'd hear a line in Arabic. So many Jews in France have North African roots. The Sephardic melodies were mesmerizing, so distinct from our Ashkenazi ones at home.
My husband remarked later that the men occasionally davened, but mostly kissed each other (four times on the cheek in true French fashion) and chatted as much as the women.
But when it came time for the shofar, the shul became still. All the men raised their tallitot over their heads. The women whipped out scarves and held them over their heads. It was a bit like watching everyone go under his or her own chupah.
I marveled at this ritual. Although far from home, it felt entirely natural to experience a connection with fellow Jews in heeding the call to be awake and centered as we entered the promise of the new year.
Mara Sokolsky is a freelance writer living in Providence, R.I.
Friday, October 03, 2008
Rosh Hashana, Chabad style
From Bangkok to Cusco, Dharamsala to Pucon, thousands of Israelis will be celebrating the Jewish New Year in Chabad houses around the world.
Anat Shalev
Nothing spells family like the holidays, but then again – nothing spells a holiday for many Israelis quite as much as traveling abroad.
Those choosing to spend Rosh Hashana outside Israel, may find themselves welcoming the Jewish New Year in one of the numerous Chabad houses around the world, offering them a little taste of home for the holidays.
Rabbi Nehemia Wilhelm, of the Chabad chapter in Bangkok, will be celebrating his 14th Rosh Hashana in the Thai capital, and according to him the experience is always elating: "It's always very exciting to see Jewish people celebrating the beginning of the new year together, in unity. It offers so much hope for the year to come," he told Ynet.
Rabbi Wilhelm is expected to see some 1,400 people attended his Rosh Hashana dinner. The hall, he said, can only house 900 people, so they will be having two dinners, in order to accommodate the demand. How does the House prepare for feeding 1,400 people? "Well, many of them come in early and help with the preparations," he said.
Rabbi Shneor Rotem, of the Chabad House in Bolivia, told Ynet they are expecting 80 Israeli hikers for Rosh Hashana dinner: "We are delighted to be able to give them a warm Jewish welcome. Because of the kosher issue, we made our entire meal from scratch. Everyone here donated of their time and talent to help. God willing, we will have a wonderful evening."
At the foot of India's Himalaya, one can find the Dharamsala Chabad House. Rabbi Moshe Shaul Dror told Ynet some 600 Israelis would be attending their Rosh Hashana service and holiday dinner: "We go to great lengths to give the Israelis here an authentic holiday experience and our guests help with the preparations.
"I wish everyone a Shana Tova. May we all have a wonderful year, a year of security and redemption; and may we all be inscribed in the book of life," said Rabbi Dror.
The busiest Chabad houses are considered to be those in the Far East and South America, where hundreds of Israeli hikers – most of them on their post-IDF service cross-continent travels – come to celebrate the holidays.
Anat Shalev
Nothing spells family like the holidays, but then again – nothing spells a holiday for many Israelis quite as much as traveling abroad.
Those choosing to spend Rosh Hashana outside Israel, may find themselves welcoming the Jewish New Year in one of the numerous Chabad houses around the world, offering them a little taste of home for the holidays.
Rabbi Nehemia Wilhelm, of the Chabad chapter in Bangkok, will be celebrating his 14th Rosh Hashana in the Thai capital, and according to him the experience is always elating: "It's always very exciting to see Jewish people celebrating the beginning of the new year together, in unity. It offers so much hope for the year to come," he told Ynet.
Rabbi Wilhelm is expected to see some 1,400 people attended his Rosh Hashana dinner. The hall, he said, can only house 900 people, so they will be having two dinners, in order to accommodate the demand. How does the House prepare for feeding 1,400 people? "Well, many of them come in early and help with the preparations," he said.
Rabbi Shneor Rotem, of the Chabad House in Bolivia, told Ynet they are expecting 80 Israeli hikers for Rosh Hashana dinner: "We are delighted to be able to give them a warm Jewish welcome. Because of the kosher issue, we made our entire meal from scratch. Everyone here donated of their time and talent to help. God willing, we will have a wonderful evening."
At the foot of India's Himalaya, one can find the Dharamsala Chabad House. Rabbi Moshe Shaul Dror told Ynet some 600 Israelis would be attending their Rosh Hashana service and holiday dinner: "We go to great lengths to give the Israelis here an authentic holiday experience and our guests help with the preparations.
"I wish everyone a Shana Tova. May we all have a wonderful year, a year of security and redemption; and may we all be inscribed in the book of life," said Rabbi Dror.
The busiest Chabad houses are considered to be those in the Far East and South America, where hundreds of Israeli hikers – most of them on their post-IDF service cross-continent travels – come to celebrate the holidays.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Casting off the year past
Area Jews observe holiday of Rosh Hashana, a time of reflection and introspection.
As the sun settled at dusk Thursday on the backs of turtles bobbing in a koi pond at Brand Park, a heartfelt, sustained whimper echoed throughout the area.
Meant to imitate the sound of a human’s cry, the noise came from a shofar — or ram’s horn — blown by Rabbi Simcha Backman, who led a Rosh Hashana service at the park.
The traditional blowing of the shofar takes place during a moment of introspection in the service, when congregants summon their sins, grab hold of them and throw them away at the start of the Jewish new year.
“The most human emotion is a cry, so we blast the horn to bring out human emotion and remind humans that we are but human,” Backman said. “You look inside and reflect.”
But Rosh Hashana is not just a time for Jews to reflect; it also provides an opportunity to commit to jettison bad habits and improve, he said.
The Thursday service, which drew about 30 people, was held at the Whispering Pine Tea House and Friendship Garden in Brand Park. It was an ideal setting for a Rosh Hashana service not only for its serenity, but for the koi pond — a perfect place for congregants to toss their sins, or as the symbolic tradition goes, bits of bread.
After the formal service and a collective reading of the Tashlich, also known as the 13 attributes of mercy, congregants passed around bags of sandwich bread, removing small pieces to throw to the fish.
“The fish, they wait for this every year,” said Mort Laski, a member of Chabad Jewish Center of Glendale.
As part of the two-day Jewish New Year tradition, Jews are supposed to find a body of water and cast their sins into it, Backman said.
If someone doesn’t find the water during Rosh Hashana, they have 10 days before Yom Kippur to find a pond, stream, an ocean — just about any body of water will do, he said.
Beyond the sunset service in the park, Jews also attended services in synagogues in Glendale and Burbank.
About 200 members of Temple Beth Emet congregated at St. Jude’s Episcopal Church in Burbank for a morning service marked with hand-clapping, singing and chanting in unison.
The congregation has suffered the loss of several of its members this year, so the new year and the hope that comes with it was especially poignant, Rabbi Mark Sobel said.
“Love involves all the emotions, and we have a loving relationship with God,” Sobel said. “With that in mind, it’s natural to laugh with, yell at or talk to Him, but in love, that relationship grows and strengthens.”
For Eagle Rock resident Hope Friedman, Rosh Hashana is an opportunity to tackle self-improvement.
“It’s about being a better person,” she said.
Other congregants, like Brett Bigley, cherish the holiday as a chance to spend time with family.
Bigley drove to the Temple Beth Emet service to see members of his extended family who were at his bar mitzvah and marriage, he said.
“They’re such a welcoming congregation,” he said.
Back at the koi pond in Brand Park, the day was about sharing for Jordan Marx, 5.
“I have an idea,” he said as he prepared a handful of bread for the fish.
“If I smush it up, they will have more.”
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