Rosh Hashana 5781

It is Saturday, the first day of the Jewish New Year 2020. Since it is on the Sabbath, we do not blow the shofar, hearing the shofar the only reason I would go to services. My friend, in texting me about the death of RBG yesterday (aleha shalom) described 2020 as “this terrible year.” And I certainly agree. So many terrifying things have converged this year that it is hard to hold on to hope.

After the election on 2016, I promised myself that I would not stoop to hating Donald Trump. By this date, however, my darker angels have prevailed: I hate the man. He is the great divider ( though he does not deserved the adjective great). He has encouraged and legitimized our penchant to be mean, to dehumanize those with whom we disagree, to condone violence, to misinterpret, blame, and hurt. He has manipulated and degraded our political process and everyday does damage to our polity and our country in apparently, every way he can. Enough!

Still, and despite extreme changes of weather, the pandemic and the emotional instability it engenders, the leaves are beginning to turn, the asters are bloom, the air is brisk (at least where there are no fires). and I am feeling very fortunate.

Last night I had two granddaughters sleeping in my little apartment: My 10 year soon to be eleven year old charmer that lights up my life and my first and oldest grandchild who is 20. She is exploring options in Maine for finding a place a job and a direction of her own. She is an original thinker, and stuns me with her appreciation of her day to day experiences. She loves to wash my dishes.

So, earlier today, I made a point of getting us all together with apples and honey, to at least acknowledge the new year. (I am very conflicted and also very attached to my Jewish roots. My offspring and theirs vary individually in their connection.) I sliced a beautiful store bought apple and an apple from the pile my older granddaughter collected while exploring along the Greenway yesterday. Those apples, of course, are not uniform, are spotted and are riddled with the paths of insects. They tend to oxidize quickly, so as soon as they are cut, they turn brown. They are not particularly attractive. But the apples she collected were sweet and tangy, and dipped in honey they were wonderful.

When I send out my New Year’s greeting this year, I cannot overlook the fact that this year has not been kind. 5181 has really got to be better. Holiday greetings usually articulate our wishes for a sweet (apples and honey) happy and healthy new year- and that our names be written in the book of life. That’s a big ask for the coming year. My particular addition is that we may learn to accept what the years ahead bring us with equanimity and that we really commit to finding the ways that will make the coming years sweeter, happier and healthier for all of us living on the earth.

According to some interpretations, the fact that the New Year falls on the Sabbath presages extraordinary possibilities and the constellation of letters and numbers are such that they predict big changes in the coming year. Let us hope that these are positive possibilities.

Despite their many imperfections, the apples that we gather can be tasty and sweet. Pay attention. Appreciate the sweetness.