The High of the Holy Days

So what is the “high” of the High Holy Days, exactly?

With the Hebrew month of Tishrei nearly upon us, replete with prayer services and celebrations, it’s a time to be mindful of what the inner dimensions of these special days actually are. Every holiday in the Jewish calendar has layers of spiritual, mystical and practical relevance to our lives. Here’s a very condensed crash course.

Yamim Noraim, literally meaning “Days of Awe” — as this season is called — examines our relationship with God and the quality of our lives as we begin a new year. 

The goal is to take the message of each of the highs with us into the months ahead, maximizing our ability to live mindfully and meaningfully.

Rosh Hashanah, literally meaning “head of the year,” is just that: the Jewish New Year. 

The ongoing theme in the prayers and traditions is recognizing God as our King, as in the Avinu Malkeinu prayer (literally, “our Father, our King”).

A new year becomes hollow and meaningless if it’s only about resolutions involving the self (think articles on “top resolutions for this new year”— joining a gym, starting a diet, saving money).

A new year becomes full and meaningful when it’s about first acknowledging the centrality of God in our lives and the importance of inviting him in. 

Against that backdrop of existential reflection and gratitude, our resolutions will naturally reflect our desire to strengthen our relationship with God and increase the meaning and purpose in our lives. Certainly these should involve self-care, because we need a strong body and sense of well-being to have the strength to do for others. But they should also include committing to certain acts: calling my grandmother once a week (it’s easy to talk about social justice but it’s truly actualized when we remember our own family members, including the ones who are hard to talk to); giving tzedakah regularly (this can mean having a charity box on our kitchen window sill and dropping in a few coins before dinner, remembering those who have less) and attending a Torah class (we can’t care about something we don’t know).

Some questions for reflection:

What was my perception of God in my childhood, and has this perception changed?

What steps can I take to reinforce my relationship with God this year?

Yom Kippur, literally meaning “Day of Atonement,” is a day of making amends and of forgiveness.

Now that we understand clearly from Rosh Hashanah our dependence on God, how can we grow closer to him? In our recommitment to God’s wants and others’ needs, there is one more step we must take before we can celebrate the relationship: making amends with him. But before we can do that, God asks us first to make amends with our family and friends.

When God sees that we are “loving whom your Beloved loves,” he is especially open to our prayers and requests.

After we have asked forgiveness from the people in our lives, we turn to God and acknowledge where we have fallen short this past year, expressing our pain and regret, and committing to doing better in the year ahead.

It is in this spirit of honesty and vulnerability that we can culminate Yom Kippur day with the holiest moments of the entire year, in an intense, intimate oneness with God in the Neilah prayer.

We end this service with singing and dancing, confident that God loves us unconditionally and has surely forgiven us. 

Some questions for reflection:

Which friends and family members do I need to make amends to?

What of my shortcomings do I need to talk to God about?

How might reflecting on God as a being who loves me unconditionally influence my relationship with him?

Sukkot, literally meaning “booths” or “temporary shelters,” is the holiday during which we eat in a sukkah and further reflect on our relationship with God.

It is on the foundation of honesty and intimacy we built during Yom Kippur that we now celebrate our relationship with God.

In our Yom Kippur conversation, we left off acknowledging that we are one with God, and that we have an unbreakable bond and dependence on him — both individually and collectively as the Jewish people.

We now continue that conversation as we eat and discuss in a sukkah, commemorating God’s clouds that protected the Jews from the various dangers like snakes, scorpions and enemies in the Sinai desert. 

We affirm that, then and now, our security comes from more than stocks and bonds and solid roofs over our heads — it comes from God’s will and his goodness.

Is it disconcerting and anxiety-provoking to face the fact that there are no guarantees in life, especially in our uncertain world today? Of course!

But that’s why we rejoice in our relationship with God — we acknowledge that ultimately there is no reason to be afraid, because he is our ultimate provider, protector and constant presence.

How can we remember and affirm this to ourselves throughout the upcoming year? By reading this truth over and over again each week in the Torah readings.

And because we have this gift of true security — knowing that God looks out for us and gives us the Torah, which gives us the tools to constantly affirm this reality — it is indeed reason to rejoice!

On Simchat Torah (the day immediately following Sukkot), we dance with the Torah.

But we dance with it closed.

If we opened it up, some might feel inadequate or intimidated by others who are more familiar with the text.

The learning and doing can, and must, come later.

But on this day, we all just rejoice that this gift of truth belongs to everyone. It’s not simply the rabbi’s, or the rebbetzin’s, or the learned scholar’s. It belongs equally to every Jew.

Some questions for reflection:

How have I made ideas, material things or acquisitions my sense of true (or only) security?

How can I make rejoicing in God’s protection and presence a daily act of affirmation and gratefulness?

What mitzvah can I commit to that connects me to my inner essence, the people around me and to God himself? 

A lasting high doesn’t come from a promotion, social media, a new car or a glass of wine. Although these are certainly wonderful things to savor in the moment (and become meaningful when used in meaningful ways, such as with family or for God), in and of themselves, they don’t spiritually sustain us. 

This season is called the High Holy Days because of the truly elevated, lasting purpose it gives us.

They don’t promise adrenaline rushes or everlasting bliss. But they give us something better and deeper: They give us precious reminders of God’s presence in our life, his unconditional love for us, his forgiveness, his protection, his guidance, and our ability to act with courage and kindness, tapping into our higher self.

In a world that is fraught with uncertainties and disappointments, these highs can serve as the foundation of faith and quiet security to have a deeply meaningful year.

Rebbetzin Shula Bryski is co-director of Chabad of Thousand Oaks and the founder of rentaspeech.com.