Holy Days’ Blessings
Why I’m grateful for Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur
IN April, as I concluded a dozen years as archbishop, a reporter surprised me by asking an easy question: “What do you like most about New York?” He may likewise have been startled when, high on the list, I mentioned: “The friendship and cooperation of our Jewish neighbors.”
Of course I listed the Yankees and the Mets, the great Italian restaurants and the Rockettes, but I prioritized my affection for the Jewish community.
Especially do I relish their holy days, and two of the most significant, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, are upon us. Not only do I wish God’s blessings upon our Jewish community on these two occasions, but I thank them as well for the meaning and lessons these days hold for all of us.
Rosh Hashanah is, of course, the Jewish New Year. (We Catholics have our own the first Sunday of Advent.) I’ve always shared with my rabbi friends my envy that their new year comes as fall, school reopening, the end of summer, the conclusion of the harvest and the first Giants game all take place. How natural to celebrate a fresh start!
To be able to “begin anew” is a given in the human person, with our nature oozing resilience and our always wanting to try again. As the Bible cherished by Jews and Christians teaches, each morning the rising sun reminds us that God has not given up on us. Therefore, neither should we.
Do we ever need that renewal now! For a year-and-a-half, we’ve asked with the psalms of Israel, “How long, O Lord?” — as we’ve been scared, confused, saddened and tense over the COVID crisis. If that were not anxiety enough, we’ve got Afghanistan, Haiti, the border, political bitterness here at home, hurricanes and wildfires.
Shall we cower and cover up in bed each morning or take a deep breath, thank the Lord for being with us, make an act of trust and start afresh? Rosh Hashanah chooses Option 2. Thanks! We all need that.
Then the “Day of Atonement,” Yom Kippur.
An abandoned beggar, rescued from the gutters of Calcutta by Mother Teresa, asked her later what she would most like to change in the world. She replied, “Myself.”
Even this radiant saint admitted she needed conversion of heart, renewal, a reform of selfish, destructive tendencies in herself.
If I understand this holy day correctly, that’s what our Jewish neighbors acknowledge on the “Day of Atonement.” They heed the exhortation of their prophets to repent and return to God’s law and covenant. That’s akin to what we Christians do during Lent and, again, if my facts are straight, what the Islamic community does during Ramadan.
Once again, I sure find that sentiment refreshing. When’s the last time we heard someone caught in a bad mistake or crime simply whisper, “I’m sorry! I did it! I’m at fault! I need forgiveness of God, the people I’ve hurt and myself ”?
Instead, we usually hear blame placed on our upbringing, our culture, the wrongs of others or people out to get me. We usually preface an admission with, “Well, if I hurt anybody, I regret it.” On Yom Kippur, our Jewish friends rather say, “I have hurt God, others and myself, and I’m sorry!”
As that old commercial put it, “Thanks! I needed that!”
Thank you, older brothers and sisters in faith, as Pope Francis calls the Jewish people, because this at-times discouraged neighbor and friend sure can use a fresh start; this sinner certainly needs to say, “I’m sorry!” With all the neuralgia we as Catholics have, with the horror of scandals and crisis of sexual abuse, count me among you as needing a fresh start and sincere
contrition. You may even see me sneak into the back of the temple!