After most of a century, I still get a thrill every time we recommence the Torah reading at the New Year, because I know it won’t be the same as last year. Partly it’s me — I’ve changed, I’ve learned something in the past year, so the way I read changes.
Who was Rabbi Ovadia Yosef? An aged rabbi responsible for countless offensive statements (on Arabs, Ashkenazim and countless others he saw as opponents) and the head of a political party with a reputation for corruption? Perhaps.
Simchat Torah is an emotional day, concluding the Tishri Yomtov season and ending the entire festival sequence that started with Pesach. As its name, Joy of the Torah, indicates, it’s a day focused on the Torah, when we complete the annual cycle of Torah reading and begin it all over again amid singing, dancing and communal festivities.
Succot is the Festival of Joy. The word simchah is used more often in the Torah in relation to Succot than any other Yomtov. In our prayers we call it zeman simchateinu, the time of our rejoicing. Joy is the leitmotif of the holiday.
Jews do not often talk about Satan and hell, but Yom Kippur has a surprising and meaningful relationship to the demonic. This is not surprising given that it is the day on which we loudly list our sins over and over again by reciting the Ashamnu and Al Chet prayers.
Once, when sitting with a woman who was near to the end of her life, she asked if she could confess something about her son. He had had a difficult life, she said, in childhood and in adolescence and now, as a young man, he had ended up in prison.
In my installation address earlier this week, I highlighted the importance of ahavat chinam, the natural, unquestioning love that we should have for others. We sometimes take this idea for granted, not fully appreciating just how tough a challenge it really is, but also how significant an impact it can have.
Even a broken clock tells the right time twice a day.
We all know the routine. As the ordered blasts — Tekiah! Shevarim! Teruah! — come in quick succession, the congregation holds its breath in anticipation of the dramatic climax. Finally, the longest note of all: Tekiah Gedolah!
Rosh Hashanah means, literally, the Head of the Year, an idiomatic way of saying in Hebrew the beginning of a new year. The element of doubt in this idiom comes from the fact that the Mishnah devoted to Rosh Hashanah identifies four “heads of the year”.
As we enter the reign of a new Chief Rabbi, Rabbi Mirvis has declared that his mission is to develop each synagogue into an all-embracing community centre, evolving from a centre simply of prayer and learning.