What comes to mind when we picture the High Holidays? The synagogue is more full than usual, it has been freshly cleaned, old lights have been changed and white curtains have replaced the usual red or blue. The sermon is more stiff and polished, and the majestic tunes are less familiar. A professional cantor has been hired to add to the dignity of the service. For many Jews, these are the only days of the year on which they make their ways to the synagogue. Even for regular synagogue goers, there can be a sense of unfamiliarity and not belonging. The majesty of these days can have us behaving with unaccustomed formality and perfect manners. The service feels distant from the layman, to be conducted only by professional clergy. Honors, usually distributed to just anyone in the community, are on these days reserved for the Rabbi, the Chazan, the Shofar blower and those pillars of the community who can afford to stand out on these days. 

 

In protest against this attitude stand the opening lines of last week's Parsha (Devarim 29:9-14). “You are standing here today, all of you before G-d”. Not only “the heads of your tribes, your elders and your officers”, but also “every man in Israel”. Not only the men, nor yet only the adults, but “your young children, your women” are all called to G-d’s service. The lower classes? “The proselyte that is in your camp, from the wood choppers your water carriers”. Every Jew is called upon, not to observe respectfully, but to be an active participant in his or her religion. And what if there should come some future time in which hearts and minds are not as receptive to the Torah's ideas as they once were? “Not with you alone do I make this covenant… but with all that are here, standing with us today before G-d, our G-d, and with all that are not here with us today”. In every future time, wherever we may live and to whatever culture we may have become accustomed, we are called upon, all of us, men, women and children, wealthy and poor, educated or otherwise, to connect with the timeless relevance of the Torah. 

 

On Rosh Hashana, G-d does not fix his searching gaze on the Rabbi or the Chazan, not on the synagogue president or on the wealthy patrons, but on every Jew. All who come into this world pass before Him individually, like sheep” (Rosh Hashana 1:2). On Rosh Hashanah, every individual, great or small, is the subject of G-d's undivided attention. Every heart is searched for a response to the summons of the Shofar. Every mind is examined: do today’s solemn devotions represent the beginning of a fresh commitment for the new year, or will they be stored away to be retrieved and dusted off next year?

 

As we present ourselves before G-d this Rosh Hashana, let us remember that we do not stand as spectators or as respectful congregants, but as full participants, G-d’s children and subjects, each of us eager to prove himself worthy of another year in G-d’s service.