![]() |
Jewish World Review Sept. 14, 2001 / 25 Elul, 5761
http://www.jewishworldreview.com --
AN odd Rosh Hashana custom, duly recorded in the Talmud and halachic codes,
is the lavishing of puns on holiday foods.
Most Jews know that on the first night of the Jewish new year, it is
customary to eat a piece of apple dipped in honey, to symbolize our hope for
a sweet year. Less known is the Rosh Hashana night custom of eating foods
whose names augur well for the future. Though the Talmud's examples are, of
course, in Hebrew or Aramaic, the commentaries direct us to find our own
pun-foods in whatever language we may speak.
"Lettuce have a wonderful year" might thus be an appropriate example. Or
"Help us pear away our sins." Or even an entreaty that G-d be our
advocate -- before a piece of avocado. (Partaking of a raisin and stalk of
celery, as one respected rabbi smilingly suggested, after expressing the
hope for a "raise in salary" might be stretching things a bit, but then
again maybe not.)
Such exercises might seem a bit out of place, though, on the Jewish holy
"day of judgment." But that is only because we regard the custom
simplistically, as some quaint superstition. In truth, though, it is
precisely Rosh Hashana's deep austere gravity that lies at the custom's
source.
There are other interesting and telling Jewish customs regarding Rosh
Hashana, like the pointed recommendation that the Jewish new year be
carefully utilized to the very fullest for prayer, Torah-study and good
deeds, that not a moment of its time be squandered. Mitzvos and good
conduct, of course, are always "in season", but they seem to have particular
power on Rosh Hashana. Similarly, Jewish sources caution against allowing
anger to develop on Rosh Hashana. The Jewish new year days are to reflect
only the highest Jewish ideals.
The 16th century Jewish luminary Rabbi Yehudah Loewy, known as the Maharal,
points out the crucial nature of beginnings. He explains that the
trajectory of a projectile -- or, we might similarly note, the outcome of a
series of mathematical computations -- can be affected to an often
astounding degree by a very small change at the start of the process. A
diversion of a single degree of arc where the arrow leaves the bow -- or an
error of a single digit at the first step of a long calculation -- can yield
a surprisingly large difference in the end. Modern scientific terminology
has given the concept both the unwieldy name "sensitive dependence on
initial conditions" and the playful one "the butterfly effect", and allusion
to the influence the flapping of a butterfly's wings halfway around the
world could presumably have on next week's local weather.
Rosh Hashana is thus much more than the start of the Jewish year. It is the
day from which the balance of the year unfolds, a time of "initial
conditions" that is exquisitely sensitive to whatever we choose do on it.
The Rosh Hashana puns, too, may be closely tied to how crucial it is to the
year it ushers in, how finely attuned it is to our every action. While such
word-play would hardly seem a substantive means of ensuring good fortune,
and is not suggested by Jewish texts for any other time of the year, on Rosh
Hashana -- with its sensitivity to even mundane acts -- it is afforded great
prominence.
For by imbuing even things as seemingly meaningless as our choice of foods
with meaning on Rosh Hashana, we are symbolically affirming the proposition
that beginnings have particular potential. That there are times when each
of our actions has magnified meaning. By seizing even the most wispy
opportunity to try to bestow blessing on the Jewish new year, we declare our
determination to start the year as right as we possibly can.
Do the puns actually work? Have they some real effect on our year? We are
not explicitly informed by the Talmud. What they unarguably accomplish,
though, is to impress upon us the unusual degree to which our actions at the
start of a Jewish year affect how we will live its balance.
And with that determination, we are more likely to value every opportunity
to truly improve our spiritual lot -- to make ourselves into better Jews in
our relations both to one another and to our Creator.
So may all we Jews merit a Rosh Hashana with only sweetness and joy, devoid
of sadness or anger. And may we all seize every such chance to make 5762's
beginning as perfect as we are able - and thereby usher in a year when our
collective and individual Jewish lives take a distinct and substantial
turnip for the
better.
Food for Rosh Hashana thought
By Asher V. Finn
Asher V. Finn is a Manhattan-based freelancer, part of Am Echad's pool of
writers. Comment by clicking here.
