Sermon for Erev Rosh Hashanah 5786
September 22, 2025
Happy New Year!
I’m so glad that everyone is here this evening to celebrate the Jewish New Year.
However, and I hesitate to tell you this, but if you search carefully through every single word of the Torah, you will not find a single mention of the 1st day of Tishrei being Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.
But please don’t rush off! I can still assure you we didn’t all get the date mixed up!
Let me try to clarify this confusion:
It is true that the first mention in the Torah of what we now observe as Rosh Hashanah does not characterize it as a new year festival at all.
Rather, what the Torah says at Leviticus 23:23-24 is this:
וַיְדַבֵּ֥ר יְהוָ֖ה אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֥ה לֵּאמֹֽר׃
“Adonai spoke to Moses, saying:
דַּבֵּ֛ר אֶל־בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל לֵאמֹ֑ר בַּחֹ֨דֶשׁ הַשְּׁבִיעִ֜י בְּאֶחָ֣ד לַחֹ֗דֶשׁ יִהְיֶ֤ה לָכֶם֙ שַׁבָּת֔וֹן זִכְר֥וֹן תְּרוּעָ֖ה
מִקְרָא־קֹֽדֶשׁ׃
“Speak to the Israelite people thus: In the seventh month, on the first day of the month, you shall observe complete rest, a sacred occasion commemorated with ‘TERU’AH’”
The word “teru’ah” is translated there in the Jewish Publication Society Tanakh as “loud blasts”.
And a similar reference in Numbers 29, which is our maftir reading for both mornings of Rosh Hashanah, describes this day as being
מִֽקְרָא־קֹ֙דֶש...י֥וֹם תְּרוּעָ֖ה
“a sacred occasion… a day of TERUAH”
which the Jewish Publication Society translates there as “a day when the horn is sounded.”
But no mention of these loud blasts --- or of this sounding of the horn --- as being connected with any sort of New Year festival.
Indeed, you may recall that the very first mitzvah in the Torah that is applicable to the Jewish people as a people is the mitzvah that God proclaims to Moses and Aaron just before that first Passover when we leave Egypt. And what is that mitzvah? As it says in Exodus 12:2 –
הַחֹ֧דֶשׁ הַזֶּ֛ה לָכֶ֖ם רֹ֣אשׁ חֳדָשִׁ֑ים רִאשׁ֥וֹן הוּא֙ לָכֶ֔ם לְחָדְשֵׁ֖י הַשָּׁנָֽה׃
“This month shall mark for you the beginning of the months; it shall be the first of the months of the year for you.”
And, of course they are talking there about Nisan – the month at the start of spring when we celebrate Passover. That’s the month that the Torah consistently identifies as the first month of the year.
Admittedly, elsewhere in the Torah, the beginning of every month, Rosh Chodesh, is designated as a semi-holiday. But, that still leaves us with the question: Why then is the “Rosh Chodesh” of this seventh month of the Hebrew calendar – the month later known by its Babylonian name “Tishrei” – why is the beginning of this seventh month considered a full-scale festival?
Later commentary in the Talmud identified this first day of the seventh month as being the anniversary of the creation of the world. Actually, even that is an oversimplification since there is an argument in the Talmud that the world was created on the 25th of Elul and that this 1st day of Tishrei is not the birthday of the world, but rather the birthday of humanity (i.e., the sixth day as described in the Creation story of Genesis chapter 1).
But, long story short, ultimately, it became the normative Jewish tradition to treat this seventh month of the Biblical calendar as the start of the year for purposes of counting the number of years since the creation of the world.
Of course, I am assuming that none of us in this room take any of that chronology literally. It is way more than 5786 years since our world was created, at least in the way we define “years.” But I am also assuming that I don’t have to convince you that the profound lessons which scripture teaches need not lead us to reject our modern understandings of science.
We praise God as the author of Creation in our standard prayers every day of the year. And on this day when we celebrate the anniversary of Creation itself --- however many billions of years ago that might have actually been --- how much more so are we inspired to pause to reflect on the awesomeness of it all.
The Talmud says that this is the day on which humanity is judged and on which our fates are determined for the year to come. And, the traditional teaching goes on, since none of us are wholly good or wholly evil, we have another ten days until Yom Kippur to tip the balance --- through our efforts to atone for our misdeeds and to make things right between ourselves and our fellow creatures and between ourselves and God.
But all that is later gloss on what is actually written in the Torah.
Going back to the Torah’s portrayal of this day as being “zichron teruah” (“commemorated with loud blasts”) or “Yom teruah” (“a day when the horn is sounded”) – descriptions that do not identify this day with the New Year --- why are we making a big deal out of this day?
Or to put it in other words, if Tishrei is the seventh month and not the first month, what’s with all the shofar blasts?
If we go back to the Torah, in its own terms, at the time of its own writing, the horn blasts of the first day of the seventh month --- and the purification rituals of Yom Kippur --- all of these are just preliminary steps leading up to the big day – the full moon of the seventh month --- The holiday known as Chag Hasukkot – The Festival of Booths. Indeed, later on in the Talmud, Sukkot is simply called “He-Chag” – “The Festival” par excellence.
Now, I know you’re all here tonight because it’s Rosh Hashanah, not because we’re anticipating Sukkot which starts two weeks from tonight.
But, even as we recite the traditional prayers of Rosh Hashanah tonight and tomorrow and the day after, and even as we recite the traditional penitential prayers of Yom Kippur ten days from now --- and even as we recite our prayers throughout every day of the year --- the image of the sukkah is never far from our consciences.
During the entire month of Elul and throughout the High Holidays, it is traditional to recite Psalm 27.
And in Psalm 27, verse 5 we have this poignant image:
כִּ֤י יִצְפְּנֵ֨נִי ׀ בְּסֻכֹּה֮ בְּי֪וֹם רָ֫עָ֥ה יַ֭סְתִּרֵנִי בְּסֵ֣תֶר אָהֳל֑וֹ בְּ֝צ֗וּר יְרוֹמְמֵֽנִי׃
“For God’s sukkah will shelter me in days of evil; God’s tent will conceal me, raising me high upon a rock.[1]”
And every evening of the year, in the Hashkivenu blessing, our prayer that we be safe from any and all dangers that may lurk in the night, we ask:
וּפְרוֹשׂ עָלֵינוּ סֻכַּת שְׁלוֹמֶךָ
(“ufros aleynu sukkat shelomekha”)
“Spread over us the sukkah of Your peace.”
What is a sukkah – it’s a flimsy shelter at best. Susceptible to wind and rain, open to the elements. A couple of weeks from now many of us will spend some time in the sukkah, even if just for the few moments of reciting a couple of blessings and sampling some wine or grape juice and challah. The ones among us more ambitious in their piety may eat some meals in a sukkah or even sleep in it.
Tradition invites us to think of it as our temporary home.
But thinking of this precariousness of the sukkah sensitizes us to the fact that our way of life in general is seeming more precarious these days.
Climate change has led to existential insecurity. We see that in the out-of-control wildfires that recently devastated southern California – including destroying the homes of my predecessor and classmate Rabbi Amy Bernstein and those of many of her neighbors and colleagues. Meanwhile, here in Duluth, a city touted as a “climate refuge” in some recent publications, we experienced the worst cycles that I can recall of unhealthy air quality this summer as a result of smoke from Canadian wildfires.
Not only is the physical environment seeming as precarious as a sukkah these days – but the political environment as well. Can we be confident that we still live in a so-called “free country” when an out-of-control executive branch, aided and abetted by an obsequious legislative branch is disappearing vulnerable individuals into veritable concentration camps without due process of law?!!!
And precarious as well is our sense of physical safety in the face of too-freely-available guns in the hands of nihilistic sociopaths. To take one such example, the recent mass shooting at Annunciation Church in Minneapolis shocked and saddened all of us. But it could have been a lot worse had the church there not previously adopted a security policy of locking its main doors after folks had entered to celebrate mass. It was a rueful realization to me that nowadays it’s not just synagogues that feel the need to employ such security policies
And precarious as well these days is that ultimate safety valve for Jewish life, the State of Israel, as it finds itself increasingly isolated and increasingly treated as a pariah and while Jewish solidarity itself is threatened as we are riven by heated arguments as to whether Israel’s challenges are to some extent self-imposed – and while Israeli hostages and Gazan civilians, and IDF soldiers and reservists all continue to face deadly dangers from the forces of unabashed terrorism.
In short, these are precarious times.
But we must never succumb to despair or hopelessness.
Each of us, individually as well as in concert with others, has the capacity to do our part in making a positive difference. Each of us can increase the quantity of kindness in the world through our own attitudes and actions.
………………………………………..
A couple of months ago, Liam and I went to see writer-director James Gunn’s new Superman film.
There was a scene in it that apparently touched off some debate among reviewers and which struck a chord with me. It was a scene that almost didn’t make it into the final cut of the film:
The controversy was described in an article in the New York Times from late July of this year by its Pop Cultural reporter Kyle Buchanan. Let me quote you the relevant passage. Buchanan writes:
James Gunn’s new take on “Superman,” in theaters now, has its fair share of flight scenes and they’re all convincingly done. But the movie’s mission statement has more to do with a pure spirit than a special effect: In the middle of one frenetic action sequence, after noticing a tiny squirrel is in danger of being crushed by debris, Superman leaps into action to rush the animal out of harm’s way.
Sure, you’ll believe a man could fly. But would you believe that man would go to the trouble of saving a squirrel?
“The squirrel moment is probably one of the most debated,” Gunn told me recently. In early test screenings, some audiences were confused about why Superman (David Corenswet) would prioritize a tiny critter when all of Metropolis was in jeopardy. But to Gunn, that was exactly the point: His cleareyed, upbeat incarnation of Superman prizes saving every life, human or not.[2]
That squirrel saving scene in James Gunn’s “Superman” film reminds me of a couple of Jewish teachings that I bet many of us are familiar with:
From Mishna Sanhedrin:
“Anyone who saves a single life, it is as if they have saved an entire world.”
And from Maimonides’ Hichot Teshuvah (Laws of Repentance)
“[T]hroughout the entire year, one should always look at oneself as equally balanced between merit and sin and the world as equally balanced between merit and sin. By performing one sin, one tips their balance and that of the entire world to the side of guilt […] On the other hand, by performing one mitzvah, one tips their balance and that of the entire world to the side of merit and brings deliverance and salvation to onself and others.” [3]
………………………………………..
In the midst of the precarious social, political and physical environment in which we all find ourselves at this start of this new year 5786, none of us have the wherewithal to repair the world singlehandedly. But surely we are all constantly encountering situations where we can take a small action which, like Superman saving a squirrel, might not seem like much – yet might actually make all the difference.
May we embrace such opportunities in the year to come.
And may all of us be inscribed in the book of life and may it be a shanah tovah umetukah, a new year of goodness and sweetness, for all of us, for all Israel, and for all the world.
Amen
© Rabbi David Steinberg (2025/5786)
[1] Translation by Rabbi Ron Aigen
[2] https://www.nytimes.com/2025/07/22/movies/superman-squirrel-james-gunn.html
[3] Laws of Repentance 3:4
