“On Rosh Hashanah it is inscribed,
How many will pass and how many are born,
Who shall live and who shall die..
Who shall rest and who shall wander..”
(Unetaneh Tokef)
As you can probably tell from this ancient verse, the Jewish version of New Year ain’t some breezy rendition of Auld Lang Syne, cheeky kiss at midnight, and fleeting resolution to give up chocolate. No, Rosh Hashanah is a very different kettle of (gefilte) fish.
It’s Judaism’s annual Day of Judgment no less, when one’s deeds are scrutinised, divine judgement is meted out, and our fates become sealed for the year ahead. It’s like having an annual appraisal with God, but with more guilt and less biscuits.
And as such, Jewish New Year is less an excuse for a knees-up, and more a deeply solemn day of reflection: a day of scrupulously looking back over the year, dutifully recalling one’s past deeds, and endeavouring to make your next-year version an upgrade on the current one. Even for someone like me, whose Jewish identity is more cultural than religious, it can still have a strong resonance.
It can be particularly emotive as it’s also a time for remembering people no longer with us. And for me, that’s none other than my late, great Auntie Ruth..
(Oh, Auntie Ruth. How best to describe you? How best to conjure your spirit and your verve?..)
