The character of Rosh Hashanah can be quite confusing. Indeed, there seem to be conflicting messages about the nature of this holiday. Certain indicators point towards a day of joy and happiness, while others suggest a serious and perhaps even morose nature. Let us consider some of these data points and then attempt to make sense of the character of Rosh Hashanah.
Perhaps the most famous primary source can be found in Sefer Nechemia. The Jewish people recognize their less-than-stellar spiritual transcript. Fearing the harsh judgment of Rosh Hashanah, they fast and mourn. Ezra, seeing this behavior, promptly redirects them: “Go eat, rejoice, and don’t be sad, since Hashem is your strength” (Nechemia 8:10). Ezra rejects the nation’s perception of Rosh Hashanah as a day of sadness and instead emphasizes the joyful and celebratory nature of the day.
In contrast, a well-known Gemara paints a very different portrait. The Gemara (Rosh Hashanah 32a) recounts that angels were surprised that Am Yisrael wasn’t reciting Hallel on Rosh Hashanah. They approached Hashem for clarification, and Hashem explained, “When the King sits in judgment with the Books of Life and Death open, would it be appropriate to sing Hallel?” This Gemara ascribes a heavy seriousness to the day, one that’s incompatible with celebration and joviality.
In line with these differing perspectives on Rosh Hashanah, many debate whether it is forbidden, permitted, or even encouraged to cry on Rosh Hashanah. The Ariz”l suggests that not only is crying desirable on Rosh Hashanah, but one who doesn’t cry likely suffers from a degree of spiritual numbness. In contrast, the Vilna Gaon argues that it’s inappropriate to cry on Rosh Hashanah. Based on the words of Ezra, the Vilna Gaon explains that our certainty in Hashem’s mercy should cultivate a more joyful disposition.
The shofar, as well, seems to contain the duality of these themes. On the one hand, the shofar represents our celebratory coronation of our King. With confidence and joy, we crown Hashem as our King and enthusiastically reaffirm our allegiance to only Him. At the same time, the shofar also awakens us from our spiritual slumber and spurs us to brutally honest self-assessment, since our status quo is far from sufficient. Furthermore, according to others, the piercing sound of the shofar conveys vulnerability and despair, representing prayers that are too vast, too desperate, and too emotionally laden to articulate in coherent sentences.
How does one make sense of these very divergent messages regarding the fundamental nature of Rosh Hashanah? While some sages decide that one side or the other is more reflective of the essential character of Rosh Hashanah, Rav Yisrael Salanter offers a different perspective on these conflicting messages.
Regarding the dispute about whether to cry on Rosh Hashanah, Rav Salanter suggests that it depends on the person. If one is very emotional and tends to cry easily, they should try to restrain themselves from crying on Rosh Hashanah. On the other hand, if one isn’t naturally a crier, they should try to rouse themselves to shed authentic tears.
Though Rav Yisrael Salanter may have been emphasizing the inherent value of broadening oneself, perhaps one can deduce that both themes reflect true and real dimensions of the day. Maybe we aren’t meant to reconcile the conflicting elements and should instead hold onto these disparate themes that coexist alongside each other. Rosh Hashanah is both a day of great joy through our confidence in Hashem’s mercy and a time of solemnity, confronting how much is at stake as we are put on trial. It is both a day to celebrate Hashem’s sovereignty and an opportunity to recognize responsibilities we have sorely neglected as servants of that King.
Taking this one step further, perhaps the conflicting themes are actually anchored in one another. Our vulnerability leaves us feeling helpless and terrified, but we can manage this emotion knowing that we are in the hands of He who heals, protects, and provides. Our shortcomings are blindingly highlighted in the glare of self-reflection, but we have been chosen with love by the ultimate King, and we rejoice in His kingship and in our role in bringing Him honor.
This year, our nation has unfortunately had too much practice holding conflicting emotions. We have encountered bravery, grief, heroism, evil, despair, persistence, gratitude, and generosity of spirit all wrapped together. We pray that this be a year where Am Yisrael can rejoice in our role as servants of Hashem amidst healing, blessing, and tears of joy.
Dr. Ilana Turetsky is a full-time faculty member at Azrieli Graduate School of Yeshiva University.