The Most Surprising Line in the Prayer Book
Prayer books are not usually etiquette manuals. They tell us what to say to G-d, not what to say to the person sitting beside us.
Which is why there is one short line in the Rosh Hashanah prayers of tonight that is so surprising.
Actually, it’s the line immediately after the evening services for tonight (the first night of Rosh Hashanah). The Alter Rebbe does something rare. He records a custom we should do as part of our prayers:
“It is customary on the first night of Rosh Hashanah to greet one another as follows: “L’shanah tovah tikatev v’techatem – May you be inscribed and sealed for a good year.”
The prayer book does not instruct us to wish everyone “Good Shabbos” every Friday night. It does not remind us to say “Chag Sameach” on every holiday. Yet on the holiest and most serious night of the year, the prayer book tells us to stop and bless someone else.
Why here? Why now?
In fact, turning our attention toward another person, especially while still in the Synagogue, on this holy night of Rosh Hashanah, feels very out of place.
This is the time when each of us stands before G-d in a deeply personal space. We are looking back at the year that has passed, thinking about our successes and failures. We remember the promises we kept and the ones we forgot. There may be thoughts in our hearts on Rosh Hashanah that we have never shared out loud.
And when you appreciate the unique spiritual energy of the first night of the New Year according to Chassidic philosophy, the paradox of blessing others on a night of introspection is even more shocking.
As the Alter Rebbe explains, when the old year ends, the Divine vitality that sustained the world during the previous year rises back to its source. Like a person in a deep sleep, the world is only technically alive during the first night of the year. Its outer life continues, but the inner desire and awareness we experience when awake and alert, is missing from the Universe at this time.
It is only through our prayers and the blowing of the shofar the next morning, that an entirely new pleasure in creation is drawn down into the world for the coming year.
It is a night of spiritual sleep and uncertainty. The old energy has withdrawn, and the new light is still waiting to be revealed. You might expect that at such a moment, a pious and righteous Jew would retreat even further into private prayer, forging his new relationship for the year ahead.
Yet at the very moment we would expect him to climb higher, the prayer book sends him sideways. Turn to the person beside you.
Look at him. See her. Offer your fellow Jew the most precious blessing you can give, with heartfelt wishes that they are “inscribed and sealed for a good year.”
There is an old parable about a father whose two sons were fighting. One son was wealthy, while the other was poor.
When the father announced that he was coming to town, the wealthy son prepared his beautiful guest room, certain that his father would stay with him in his luxurious house. Instead, the father went directly to the modest home of the poor son and remained there.
Hurt and confused, the wealthy son realized he would need to go to his brother’s house to find his dad.
“Am I not your son? Are you not my father? Why didn’t you come to my home?”
To which the father replied, “If he is not your brother, how can I be your father?”
On Rosh Hashanah, one of our most powerful prayers we say over and over, is called “Avinu Malkeinu – Our Father, our King.” It contains a long list of our deepest needs and requests. Yet every line begins with the same opening words “OUR Father, OUR King…”
Notice that we do not say, “My Father, My King.” We speak only in the plural.
Because how can we ask G-d to be our Father if we refuse to recognize His other children as our brothers and sisters?
How can we ask Him to look beyond our faults, and forgive our own shortcomings, when we will not look beyond the faults of another?
I think this explains why the Prayer Book included a formal instruction for us to bless each other with a sweet new year immediately after the Prayers.
Because to stand before G-d on Rosh Hashanah, we must first learn to stand together.
One of the most famous and important teachings of Tanya is that what separates us is our bodies. But from the perspective of our souls, all Jews are indeed one. “We have one father for us all”, and therefore “all Israel are literally brothers.”
Physically, we are different people with different needs, personalities, opinions and struggles. Spiritually, however, our souls share one Father and one Divine source. We are not merely similar. We don’t just share history or have the same ancestors.
At our deepest, truest level, we are actually one.
The physical world constantly reminds us of separation and limitation. Two chairs cannot occupy the same space. A dollar spent here cannot also be spent there. An hour of time given to one person cannot be given to someone else.
So when we define ourselves only by what we possess, another person’s success can feel like our loss. Attention for them means less attention for me. Their blessing somehow threatens mine.
The spiritual mindset is fundamentally different. It allows me to define myself in the plural instead of only in the singular.
King Solomon says, “The soul of man is the candle of G-d.” Our souls are compared to a flame.
Here’s what’s truly amazing about fire. Almost all physical objects can be placed beside one another, but will still remain separate. However, when two flames meet, they become one larger, more powerful, flame. You can no longer identify where one ends and the other begins.
Neither flame loses its light. The opposite is true. Together, they burn more brightly.
That is the unity we must have on Rosh Hashanah. It does not mean that we must all think alike or become identical. It means recognizing that another Jew’s light does not diminish mine. It adds to it.
So, how should we prepare for Rosh Hashanah?
Call someone with whom you have lost touch. Forgive someone who disappointed you. Offer an honest compliment. Invite someone who may be alone. Pray for another person’s needs before your own.
And when Rosh Hashanah begins, as you finish your spiritual journey into the Heavens with your very first prayer of the New Year, turn to another Jew and bless them with all your heart and soul. Mean every word.
Because the highest spiritual ascent happens by coming down from our private world and becoming part of something greater than ourselves.
On that note, Chana and I offer our most sincere and heartfelt blessings to each and every one of you from the depths of our hearts.
May Hashem inscribe and seal every member of your family for a good and sweet year. May the spiritual blessings of Rosh Hashanah descend into your physical life in ways that you can see, feel and celebrate.
May you be blessed with good health and complete healing, with happiness and peace of mind. May your homes be filled with love, your relationships with warmth, and may your children bring you tremendous nachas.
May you be blessed with abundant livelihood and financial security. May you have all the money you need (plus a little more), the time to enjoy it, and the wisdom to use it well. May all your worries be resolved, and may your heart be filled with confidence and hope.
And may our brothers and sisters in Israel and throughout the world, be blessed with safety, peace and revealed miracles.
In short, may this year be not only good in Heaven, but sweet for us all down here on earth.
L’Shanah Tovah U’metukah!
Rabbi Yankie & Chana Denburg
