Some label Rosh HaShanah and the period between the New Year and Yom Kippur as "Judgment Days," a time during which the trajectory of our lives for the coming year is reached.
Related Blog Posts on High Holidays and Jewish Rituals and Symbols
As the high holidays approach, we are reminded that there are so many meaningful Jewish moments to celebrate. Within the joy and ruach (spirit) of holidays like Rosh Hashanah, Sukkot, and Simchat Torah, lies the solemn and serious Yom Kippur. There are a myriad of ways to make Yom Kippur meaningful for young children, for whom especially, Yom Kippur is not an easy holiday to understand.
Perhaps the act of gluing is a metaphor for tikkun olam, the act of repairing the world, which is central to our beliefs as Reform Jews. There are so many issues to ponder.
As we prepare for the High Holy Days, we engage in cheshbon hanefesh, an accounting of the soul. During the month of Elul, we look inward and reflect. This poem speaks to the possibilities of healing ourselves and our world.
Why is the pomegranate such a prominent symbol of Rosh HaShanah and what are some other ways to use it?
I’m feeling very peaceful today. I went to the mikvah this morning. I was a little nervous, just because official rites of passage can be a little scary. But I knew everyone was going to be super nice and supportive (and they were!).
A camel carrying a load. A golden pair of balanced scales. An open heart and an open mind. These are three of more than two dozen artists' visions of justice and righteousness featured in the invitational exhibition, "Tzedek Boxes: Justice Shall You Pursue."
As Jews, we have the opportunity to celebrate the New Year not once, but several times. The Jewish year has four different New Year celebrations: Rosh HaShanah, Passover, Tu BiShvat, and Elul. Many Jews also celebrate the Gregorian New Year in January. That means we get five opportunities every year to do an accounting of our soul (cheshbon hanefesh) and make resolutions for growth and betterment.
As I boarded the plane to Israel in the summer of 2002 for my first year of rabbinical school at HUC in Jerusalem, my mother said, "Please, just don't meet an Israeli." As soon as the plane touched down at Ben Gurion airport, I knew that I was home. A few months later, I met that Israeli. From our first conversation, he understood that I was studying to be a rabbi, and I understood that he wanted to live only in Israel.
I am vegan because I am Jewish. Everything that led me to a vegan practice came from my childhood where I kept kosher, learned by asking thoughtful questions, and practiced daily rituals like hand washing and reciting brachot that brought intention to aspects of daily life.