Today is the Jewish holiday known as "Rosh Hashanah." According to the Hebrew Calendar it is the first day of the New Year which is usually celebrated
by Jews everywhere in accordance with the instructions God gave to His people through Moses. This can be found in the Old Testament passages of Leviticus 23:23-25 and
Numbers 29:1-6.
Rosh Hashanah is a sacred holiday that is also called the "Feast of Trumpets." By tradition it is a time to examine one's heart and seek forgiveness for one's
sins. It is also a time to make a fresh start and a new beginning where the record of a Jew's sins during the previous year is wiped away. Therefore, in this regard,
it is supposed to be a holiday of hope. At Rosh Hashanah a Jewish person makes a renewed commitment to God. He tries to also rekindle his devotion of the Creator if
it has waned.
Meanwhile, I can recall my days growing up in the Bronx. During Rosh Hashanah my Dad would take me to one of the synagogues in our neighborhood. A synagogue is
a place where Jews worship and receive religious instruction.
The synagogue my Dad and I went o most often, however, was located on Ward Avenue just off Watson Avenue in the Soundview section. It was an old two story brick
building with creaky wooden floors throughout its few small offices and the main sanctuary. Along most of the back and side walls of the building's first floor
interior were rows of warped bookcases filled with must smelling books. And during Rosh Hashanah holiday the wooden pews in its plain looking sanctuary would be
crammed with mostly older men, all of them standing on their feet for what seemed to be many hours. They'd rock forward then backward, too, as they prayed, which is
the custom of many Jewish males. This was the synagogue of my grandfathers. The rabbis who ran it were very strict. Their faces, as I remember them, were oftentimes
serious and somber. I do not recall ever seeing them smile.
The inside of this house of worship was dark and dingy. The few windows it had all faced dreary alleyways on every side but its front had a small stained
glass window built into the top floor's brick facade. A part of this glass showed the "Star of David." The Ward Avenue building was a scary place for a kid.
Because of the scarcity of sunlight the inside had shadows in many places, and I remember hearing strange noises on occasion.
Once through the front doors of this spooky synagogue there was a small foyer area with a concrete floor. And also in the foyer to the right of the entrance was a
narrow spiral staircase which led up to the second floor. Here, at the top of the staircase, was a small landing where there was a steel door that was always locked.
And when one of the rabbis would spot me and some of the other kids climbing the steps, which we'd do on occasion for fun and because we were bored, he'd yell at us
to come back down. The steps were off limits. Yet in the years I attended services during the high holy days like Rosh Hashanah, or when I attended the Hebrew school
classes that were being offered to eventually prepare me for my Bar Mitzvah, when I wasn't playing hooky from Hebrew school - which was much of the time - I never saw
that door get opened. I thought for sure there were dead bodies behind it in a secret chamber that was forever shut.
I was convinced the Ward Avenue synagogue was haunted. I hated being inside it, and would've never gone into it aside from the fact that I had to attend services
there three times per year (Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Passover) at the behest of my parents and grandparents. And for a Jewish boy not to attend on such holy days
would be a big sin. Plus, I was enrolled at the Ward Avenue synagogue's Hebrew school and had to attend classes - at least I was supposed to - from fall to late spring.
This is something every Jewish boy has to endure.
However, in time my parents discovered a more moderate option. There was another synagogue several blocks away in the opposite direction. It was called "Young
Israel" and it was located on the 1200 block of Stratford Avenue just off Westchester Avenue. It was an approximately five minute walk from my home, the same as
the other house of worship. So my Dad and I began to alternate between the two.
Young Israel was progressive, too. It was a bigger and brighter building with a mixed congregation of men and women. The Ward Avenue synagogue was womanless. To
the best of my recollection they did not allow those of the opposite sex to come and worship, which is not unusual in an orthodox Jewish setting. Nevertheless, even the
rabbis at Young Israel made the sexes sit apart. As per the common custom, the men would sit together in the main section toward the front where the alter and the
sacred scrolls were located, while the women sat to one side but toward the back of the synagogue where a section was reserved just for them. Here a long curtain was in
place from one end of the women's section to the other prevent the ladies and men from seeing each other.
It seemed strange to me that my mother and grandmother had to hide behind a curtain and could therefore only listen to the rabbi as he spoke. I guess he wanted no
distractions between the sexes while worship was going on or when the sacred scrolls were being read. It was apparently Young Israel's philosophy not to make any
provisions for temptation. Yet with dozens of women sitting in the same general area separated only by a thin veil of fabric, surely the scents from so many
different brands of perfume would waft beyond the partition toward the nostrils of the men. No doubt such an array of fragrances would at some point cause any
mind wandering males to think of other things besides the words of the rabbi's sermon.
As for myself, though, the Jewish holidays had little spiritual meaning, at least not when I was growing up. I'd have much preferred riding my bicycle or playing
some kind of ball game than attending synagogue services. I also remember feeling trapped whenever I had to go into a house of worship. And when I finally got Bar
Mitzvahed at the age of thirteen, I was done attending any kinds of services. The only exception, however, was when my mother died. I was fourteen, and her funeral
service was at a different synagogue. This was my last time in a Jewish house of worship.
Ironically, many years later, when I accepted Jesus as the Messiah, my interest in Judaism arrived. As a believer in Jesus I had immediately begun to thirst for
the words of God in both the Old and New Testaments. I was now hungry to know more about the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
It was at this time when I was "born again" that I actually became interested in my heritage as a Jew. Nowadays, as a follower of the Lord Jesus, I am in no
way required to follow the Old Testament laws and regulations concerning the various holidays and holy convocations. Nor do I have to participate in the sacrificial
system that was established under the laws of Moses for these have already been fulfilled in Messiah Jesus. The same is true with any special feast days.
Yet I can, however, appreciate the deeper spiritual meanings of the days such as Rosh Hashanah. To me this holiday represents the yet future coming of the Lord to
remove His church from the earth - whether this actually happens on a future Rosh Hashanah or not, I do not know. And it likewise represents the eventual return of the
Messiah to earth to put an end to war and to establish His peaceful kingdom upon this earth as He reigns from His throne in Jerusalem, an event yet to happen. "Even
so, come, Lord Jesus."
D.B.
