September 25, 2024|כ"ב אלול ה' אלפים תשפ"ד Rosh Hashana in the Shadow of Tragedy: Balancing Fear and Joy Amid Uncertainty
Print ArticleBalancing the emotions of fear and joy is a core theme of Rosh Hashana, a holiday that is both deeply solemn and profoundly uplifting. These dual emotions reflect the broader complexities of life itself, and this year, after the devastation and trauma of October 7, 2024, when we face unprecedented challenges, that balance seems even harder to maintain. How do we celebrate Rosh Hashana with joy in a time of deep collective pain? Should fear eclipse our joy, or should joy still find its place amid the fear?
Rosh Hashana is a time when we stand before God in judgment, yet it is also a time of new beginnings and hope. The tension between these two experiences is a fundamental part of the holiday's identity, and as we look to celebrate this year, these questions take on a greater sense of urgency. How do we live in that tension, holding onto both the fear of judgment and the joy of renewal?
The Mitzvah of Joy: Where Does It Fit on Rosh Hashana?
One of the clearest expressions of this tension is the mitzvah of simcha (joy) during the festivals. The Torah commands us to rejoice on the pilgrimage festivals—Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkot—with the phrase "וְשָׂמַחְתָּ בְּחַגֶּךָ" (Deuteronomy 16:14). However, Rosh Hashana is notably absent from that list. Yet in Psalms, Rosh Hashana is referred to as a "chag" (festival): "Blow the shofar on the new moon, in the hidden time for our festival day" (Psalms 81:4). This ambiguity creates a tension: Is there an obligation to rejoice on Rosh Hashana or not? How do we reconcile the seriousness of the day of judgment with the festive atmosphere of a holiday?
In fact, Jewish tradition offers a powerful answer to this question in the episode of Ezra and Nechemiah. When the people of Israel, having returned from Babylonian exile, heard Ezra read the Torah on Rosh Hashana, they began to weep. Overcome by fear and guilt, they were reminded of their failures and shortcomings. Yet Ezra and Nechemiah rebuked them, urging them instead to eat, drink, and rejoice, for “the joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10). They taught that even on a day of judgment, there must be a focus on joy.
The Geonim later took this lesson to heart when asked whether one should fast on Rosh Hashana. They ruled that fasting was inappropriate, citing Ezra’s instructions to the people to celebrate. In contrast, some Rishonim and even certain communities maintained customs of fasting, highlighting the ongoing debate over the appropriate tone of the day. The Shulchan Aruch ultimately rules that we do not fast, but it also cautions that the joy of Rosh Hashana should not be excessive, for "the fear of God should remain on them" (Orach Chaim 597:1).
Themes of Fear and Joy in the Liturgy and Shofar
The central prayers of Rosh Hashana—Malchiyot, Zichronot, and Shofrot—also embody this tension. Malchiyot, the coronation of God as King, is a joyous declaration of God’s majesty. We celebrate the opportunity to acknowledge God’s sovereignty. But Zichronot reminds us that we stand in judgment before God, that our actions are being remembered and scrutinized. It evokes fear, a recognition that our lives are fragile and finite. Shofrot ties these themes together, as the sound of the shofar serves both as a celebration of God’s kingship and as a call to repentance, reminding us of our vulnerability.
The sounds of the shofar themselves carry both fear and joy. The straight blast of the tekiah symbolizes clarity and joy, while the broken sounds of the shevarim and teruah reflect our fear, our inner brokenness. As the Torah teaches, the teruah is sounded during times of war, evoking fear and alarm, while the tekiah is sounded on joyous occasions (Numbers 10:9-10). These sounds remind us that life is full of both war and peace, pain and happiness, and Rosh Hashana asks us to hold both realities together.
The Tension in Historical Perspectives
The Mishnah famously describes Rosh Hashana as a day when all creatures pass before God like "bnei maron" (Rosh Hashana 16a), a phrase that has been interpreted in multiple ways. Some understand it as sheep passing before a shepherd, evoking a sense of vulnerability and fear. Others liken it to soldiers passing in review before their commander, a more triumphant and confident image. This multiplicity of interpretations allows for different emotional responses on Rosh Hashana, from fear and trembling to pride and celebration.
The Rambam, in his Laws of Megillah and Chanukah (3:6), reinforces this duality, explaining that we do not recite Hallel on Rosh Hashana because it is a day of "fear and dread, not excessive joy." This further emphasizes that Rosh Hashana is not purely celebratory but rather a day that holds both fear and joy in delicate balance.
Three Approaches to Balancing Fear and Joy
As we reflect on how to navigate this tension, especially in the wake of the tragedy of October 7, three possible approaches emerge:
1. Choosing Fear or Joy Based on Personal Spiritual Needs
One option is to recognize that different people may connect to God in different ways on Rosh Hashana. Some years, or for some individuals, fear might be the dominant emotion—whether due to personal challenges, communal tragedies, or a heightened awareness of judgment. Others may feel more naturally drawn to joy, celebrating the opportunity for renewal and the promise of God’s mercy. Just as some communities historically fasted while others feasted, we might choose to emphasize either fear or joy, depending on what will bring us closer to God in our current state.
2. Fear and Joy as Inseparable Dualities
Another approach comes from the Talmud Yerushalmi, which emphasizes that Jews approach judgment with a unique sense of confidence. Rabbi Simon notes that while most people facing judgment would dress in black and mourn, the Jewish people wear white, eat, drink, and rejoice, trusting that God will perform miracles for them (Yerushalmi Rosh Hashana 1:3). This suggests that fear and joy are not contradictory emotions but two sides of the same coin. We fear the judgment, but we also rejoice because we have faith in God’s mercy.
This duality is particularly relevant after a year of such profound loss. We may feel overwhelmed by the fear of what lies ahead, especially after October 7, but we also know that God has always been with us in our darkest moments. Like the Jews in Ezra’s time, who cried at the sound of the Torah but were urged to rejoice, we too must find a way to celebrate even in the midst of our grief.
3. Joy Born from Faith Amid Tragedy
The third approach, inspired by a story of Elie Wiesel and the Lubavitcher Rebbe, offers a path for those struggling with faith after tragedy. Wiesel, who had lost faith in God’s justice after the Holocaust, was told by the Rebbe, “To love God is to accept that you do not understand Him.” Wiesel’s faith was one of struggle and anger, but it was still faith. The Rebbe’s response—that one cannot abandon belief in God even after Auschwitz—reflects a deep truth about Rosh Hashana: the joy we experience is not naive or unreflective. It is a joy born from a profound relationship with God, one that includes questioning, pain, and struggle, but ultimately leads to faith and hope.
After October 7, we are left with many questions. How could such a tragedy happen? Where was God? These are questions that may not have easy answers, but they do not negate the possibility of joy. In fact, it is precisely in our struggle with God that we find the potential for deeper faith and, ultimately, deeper joy. As Wiesel himself wrote, “My anger rises up within faith and not outside it.” In fact, we have shining examples of wives and parents of slain soldiers, like Jen Airley, Rabbi Doron Perez, Varda Morrell and Hadas Lowenstein, who refuse to allow the death of their loved ones to break their spirit. They continue to find a way to go on with life and sing and celebrate even with a hole in their heart.
Conclusion: A Year of Trembling and Rejoicing
This Rosh Hashana, we stand at a crossroads of fear and joy. The events of this past year—most notably the tragedy of October 7—have left us with a profound sense of vulnerability and loss. Yet, as we blow the shofar and recite the words of Malchiyot, Zichronot, and Shofrot, we are reminded that even in the darkest moments, there is a path to joy. It is not a joy that ignores the pain of judgment, but one that embraces it, knowing that our God is both our King and our Father.
As we celebrate this Rosh Hashana, let us allow both fear and joy to dwell within us, knowing that each emotion has its place in our service to God. Fear reminds us of the gravity of the moment, but joy gives us the strength to face it with hope, faith, and resilience.