Happy Holy Days or Days of Terror
This essay written 15 years ago still seems irreverently relevant
In the context of a less than fully gratifying political, economic, diplomatic and environmental period, it has been somewhat difficult to find the vein of humor and cheer for this High Holy Day greeting. Admittedly, I do find myself thinking holy thoughts these days. These sacred musings are generally followed by an exclamation point, to wit: “Holy cow, my retirement fund lost how much!”
Interestingly, although we go through these days wishing each other well on the “High Holy Days,” that term appears nowhere in the Hebrew lexicon. It is not a biblical, Talmudic or rabbinic phrase. The term in Hebrew for the days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is “Yomim Noraim.” We commonly translate this phrase as the “Days of Awe” but it can also be interpreted as the “Days of Terror” or “Terrible Days.” While “Days of Terror” may be a more accurate term for the High Holy Days, it makes for a less than satisfactory greeting card — except, of course, if you are a Cossack: “Dear Raphael Family, Happy Days of Terror from Igor the Malicious. We’ll be there on Tuesday between 9:00 am and noon to plunder.”
Beyond my annual brooding about the disappointing Mets during this season, it is hard to read or listen to the news and not feel that these are days of terror. We face global economic meltdown, political paralysis, ongoing international strife, and global warming that is rapidly turning our planet into an Easy-Bake Oven. Perhaps these are terrible days.
As Jews, when we use the term “holy”, it is as a translation of the Hebrew “Kadosh.” Kadosh can be interpreted as holy and sacred, but I am drawn to “sanctified.” Holy and kadosh are adjectives – descriptors while “to sanctify” is a verb – a word of action. If these days are to be sanctified, it is up to us.
As many of you know, after six years of descending deeper and deeper into Alzheimer’s disease, my mother passed away, closing a difficult and painful period. While we mourn our loss, her death opened windows to memories of earlier times filled with joy and blessing. With her passing we were liberated to remember her as she had been: strikingly beautiful, charmingly funny, but most of all deeply loving. During terrible days, I think about my mother. Through her warmth and graciousness, she sanctified every moment and everyone she touched. I think about those last days with her in a hospital room in Jerusalem. Jacob traveled from the north of Israel to sit with me, and those waning moments with my mother were made holy. I think about the tender care my mother received in the hands of my sister Ruth and her family in Jerusalem. The last years of my mother’s life were sanctified by her devoted family.
Perhaps, this is the lesson of the season for all of us: These days can be filled with terror. Calling a day “holy” doesn’t necessarily make it so. But all of us can use these Days of Awe to be in awe of our families, friends, communities, country, and our planet and to sanctify our time together.
My best wishes to you and your family for a happy, healthy, sweet, and sanctified year.
