I recently published this piece in a couple of local newspapers. I did already share this on Facebook but I thought pre-Yom Kippur, it would be good to reflect once again on this idea.
Joy and Fear during the holidays:
The Rosh Hashanah liturgy describes the Jewish New Year as a day consisting of two diametrically opposed images: “Today is the birth of the world. Today all creatures of the world stand in judgment – whether as children [of God] or as servants. If as children, be merciful with us as the mercy of a father for children. If as servants, our eyes [look toward and] depend upon You, until You be gracious to us and release our verdict as light, O Awesome and Holy One.” How can a person simultaneously grasp these two images of a day of birth, a day filled with joy and expectations, and a Day of Judgment, a day filled with fear and trembling?
As part of the preparation for the Jewish holidays of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Sukkot, there is a tradition to recite Psalm 27 at the conclusion of the daily morning services as well as either the daily afternoon or evening services. The recitation of Psalm 27 commences at the start of the Jewish month of Elul, the month preceding the holidays, and continues through the end of Sukkot. The words of Psalm 27 were King David’s prayer to G-d that he should merit dwelling in G-d’s midst, even when feeling abandoned and orphaned in the world.
In times of joy, it is fairly easy to find comfort and peace in life. Most people feel a sense of elation and independence. When in crisis, however, people often turn to those who have always provided strength and security for them in life. For most, parents represent that security. Yet, many of the crises faced occur when parents are no longer able to help. I have heard many caregivers of a dying loved one express the wish that one or the other parent were still alive to be a rock during troubled times. In the pre-holiday tradition of reciting Psalm 27, one of the verses recited reflects on the need for security during crisis. King David said, “While my father and mother have forsaken me, G-d will gather me in (27:9).”
The liturgy highlighted above focuses on the crisis moment of the holidays. The image of standing in judgment is an acute reminder that every year, as time moves forward, we face the inevitable truth that for some, the past year was not meant to be completed. As such, survivors are struck by a sense of loss during the liturgical points reminding them of the essence of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, namely the renewal for another year for some people while the conclusion for others. And yet, hope remains, that when we feel forsaken, there is still something to protect us.
Loss changes the fabric of one’s life. It removes the sense of invincibility and security. Yet, while reflecting on Judgment Day, one is also reminded that there will always be a security blanket. The security blanket, G-d, can be cherished or can be discarded. Either way, the blanket remains, accepting however one feels and reacts to happiness and sadness, joy and fear.