Noticing
Thoughts on Rosh HaShanah 2020
I remember the
first time that I noticed someone coughing. I was praying Shaharit on a Monday
morning shortly after Purim and the man sitting to my right let out a weak
cough. I instinctively stopped reading and looked up at the man. Several
minutes later, a man to my left cleared his throat. This time I kept my head
down, but I became distracted, stumbling over the next few words that came out
of my mouth.
Coronavirus has
forced us to notice. Today we notice the people around us in unprecedented
ways. We’ve also become more aware of the physical spaces we inhabit, paying
careful attention to exactly where we walk, sit and stand. And, on a deeper
lever, we’ve developed a heightened sensitivity to our personal feelings of
fear and vulnerability.
Avraham Avenu is
the Torah personality we focus upon most during Rosh HaShanah. We consistently
invoke his memory and actions in our prayers as a source of inspiration
and merit. Avraham’s life centered around two seemingly different endeavors: hesed
to other people and a deep connection to God. These actions were drawn
together, however, by his unique way of noticing. Avraham’s hesed began
with his sight of people in need: “And he lifted up his eyes, and behold, three
men stood nearby” (Bereshit 18:2). And
his discovery of God was much the same: “On the third day, Avraham lifted up
his eyes and saw the place afar” (Bereshit 22:4). Avraham was the paradigmatic noticer.
His sensitivity to the world and people around him was the driving force behind
his remarkable life.
The Rabbis taught:
“God is my light (Tehilim 27:1) – This is Rosh HaShanah.”[1]
Rosh HaShanah is a day of light. It is a time of noticing. Indeed, HaRambam
wrote that the very function of the shofar is to awaken us from our
spiritual slumber, directing our focus to the matters of life which are truly
significant.[2]
Surprisingly, though, Jewish mystics designate night as the time of divine
judgment (din). It would make sense, then, to associate Rosh HaShanah –
“The Day of Judgment” (Yom HaDin) – with the darkness of night. The
Rabbis likewise taught: “Blow a shofar at the New Moon, at the covered time
for our holiday (Tehilim 81:4) – Which is the holiday on which the moon is
covered? You must say that this is Rosh HaShanah.”[3]
How can Rosh HaShanah be a time of “light” and noticing, while at once existing
as a time darkness and concealment?
The story is told about two men who were each given the task of identifying
their friends in the darkness of night. One was given a flashlight, and he
easily recognized his acquaintances by shining the light at their faces. The
other, however, never got a flashlight, and was therefore forced to identify
those around him by carefully listening to the sounds of their voices and
footsteps. Predictably, the first person performed best in the challenge, as
the sight of people’s faces is far more revealing than audial clues. The second
individual, however, acquired a skill that would last him long into the sun-lit
hours of daytime. He had developed a sensitivity akin to that of a blind
person; he could identify his contacts in any future situation – even if his
vision was blocked.[4]
The challenge of concealment brought forth the opportunity to notice.
I underwent a
related experience several years ago. Following a severe virus, I lost my sense
of taste for a period of over a year. Surprisingly, though, I discovered that I
naturally developed a new skill in that midst. Without actually tasting the
food or drink in my mouth, I could still identify exactly what it was. Several
of my students put me to the test. They created different concoctions of water,
soda, grape juice and other beverages, handing me the cups to drink while I was
blindfolded. Judging the drinks solely by their texture – how they felt in my
mouth, on my teeth and tongue, and down my throat – I scored a perfect score on
the “taste test.” It was the “concealing” nature of my lost taste that enhanced
in me the ability to notice.
Rosh HaShanah is a
time of mysterious din. It pushes us into the hidden realm of the
Divine. The challenge is daunting, as the fear of stumbling in the darkness is
real. But the opportunity is ripe, as well. We can choose to falter or we can
decide to notice. We can accept the darkness or we can discover the light.
Following in the
ways of Avraham Avenu, we too must notice. Ironically, coronavirus has actually
made the task easier to fulfil. So, pay attention to your surroundings. Find
God’s presence in the world around you. Raise your eyes above the masks of
others. Gaze into their eyes and notice them. And embrace those difficult
feelings of fear and vulnerability to notice yourself.
[2] HaRambam, Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Teshuvah 3:4.
[3] Rosh HaShanah 8a.
[4] R. Yisshak Hutner z”l mentioned this parable in an entirely different context in Pahad Yisshak: Purim (Brooklyn, NY, 2004), Inyan 34. The essay was translated into English in Pinchas Stolper, Living Beyond Time: The Mystery and Meaning of the Jewish Festivals (Brooklyn, NY, 2003), pg. 299-302.