Rosh haShanah Retrospective (5782/2021)
Throughout the course of my Jewish life, my home practice adapted to the meandering trajectory of my life. The first Jewish holiday I ever observed was Hanukkah, with Rosh haShanah a close second (the next year). I remember being a young and Jewishly inexperienced college student, attempting to bake my first raisin-filled round challah for the Jewish New Year. I had never baked bread before and here I was, in my early twenties, embarking on a deep relationship with the dough: a relationship that endures to this day.
Preparation:
Conclusion:
Rosh haShanah meant something different to me as a single young woman in the throes of discovering Judaism than it did as a young bride, a rabbinical student, a mother or a pulpit rabbi. I was ordained while 8 months pregnant with my first child and the baby was born only a few weeks before Rosh haShanah. One of my most powerful High Holiday memories of that year (2013) was the image of me nursing my three-week old son at the synagogue under the soft folds of my cream-and-silver colored tallit. There could not have been a clearer connection to the Shechinah (Divine Feminine) for me than in that moment.
The next Rosh haShanah, I was serving a pulpit and newly pregnant with my second child. No more were there moments of luxuriating in the spiritual richness of Elul. Gone were the quiet hours of journalling, studying and prayer. My confessions were reduced to quick scribbles in my journal mere minutes before the start of Kol Nidrey. My High Holiday practice had shifted on its axis: babies, toddlers, morning sickness, nursing, liturgy practice, sermon revision, logistics. The High Holidays became a heady mixture of young motherhood with the demands and ambitions of the rabbinate. I no longer had hours to prepare High Holiday dinners or weeks to retreat in quiet contemplation as I journeyed towards t'shuvah. I didn't even have time to write people handwritten cards.
With this new reality admittedly came new resentments. I felt I was losing myself, my minhagim (customs) and my connection to God during this holy season as all was consumed by professionalism and parenthood. After the birth of our third child, I knew I wanted to retool my High Holiday practice to reclaim my sense of joy and self. I learned that this would take meticulous planning. Let me take you along what our family did and what it was like for us.
I knew Future Me would be grateful if I cooked in advance. I designed my menu about a month out from Rosh haShanah, making a clear list of all the dishes we wanted to make. Then I subdivided those in the items that would freeze well: challah, brisket, chicken soup, apple-honey cake. These are also the 'big ticket' items that take a lot of time to make, so cooking them weeks in advance and freezing them shaved off about 80% of our food prep. The other menu items (gefilte fish, salads, fruit platter, apples with honey) could be made a day before or on the day.
I cleared out a section of the freezer for easily identifiable storage and could now focus on the other aspects of the festival. Buying the food supplies also helped spread out the financial pressures of putting on a big dinner with expensive kosher meat across two rather than one month.
Framework:
I thought long and hard about how I wanted to 'frame' Rosh haShanah for my family; both as a standalone event as well as part of the wheel of the year. Taking a bird's eye view of how you experience the rhythm of the Jewish year and the values you wish to affirm can help you tease out important threads. Since Hanukkah and Purim are light on theology and Pesach centers around liberation, I wanted to add depth and drama to the High Holidays. I decided to lean into two 'big' themes of the machzor: hayom harat olam ('today is the birthday of the world') and melekh al kol ha'aretz ('God is sovereign over the entire world'). Acknowledging that this is a sweeping and universalist time of year, I chose to consciously emphasize it. My children might not be old enough yet to experience the grandeur of the machzor but they are old enough to appreciate symbolism around planetary birthdays and Divine sovereigns. Every kid loves a birthday party and a fairy tale!
These frames were 'fun' enough to add whimsy ('let's throw the planet a birthday party!') yet hefty enough to add real substance to the interlocking themes of Creation and God. It was my goal to create an elevated experience and esthetic. More about this later.
Experience:
Rosh haShanah is not an easy sell to children. Its symbology and significance is obtuse and complex; its theology beautiful but baroque. It doesn't have the same apparent child-friendly charm that Hanukkah, Purim and Pesach have. Added to that the stresses of a rabbinic family knuckling down to serve a congregation for the most high-octane days in the year and its easy for children to be or feel left out.
Hence, I decided to splurge on a Days United box. My personal approach to services like Days United is to selectively use them for moments where I feel I cannot supply enough child-friendly content myself. Hence, I will be a Rosh haShanah box but not the Hanukkah or Purim boxes because I am in far less need of them. In this way, I am using an external party's infrastructure to strengthen our Jewish home practice in a tactical way.
Projects:
Apart from the Days United box, I wanted my kids to be involved in a holiday-themed craft activity. Given the framework, I provided gold sparkly paper and other craft supplies and asked them each to make a golden crown: for God, as symbolized by crowning the challah. (Round challot themselves already symbolize a crown). They were also welcome to wear the crown at the dinner table, in a 'birthday party' type of mood.
The second project was to make Torey Avey's spectacularly delicious apple honey cake (with apples picked at our local orchard) and turn it into a birthday cake, with pretty icing, colorful sprinkles and birthday candles. I even had the kids blow out the candles and sing Happy Birthday for the earth! This was an experience that was relatable to them and a project that prompted important conversations around the (admittedly fairly dense) idea that God is sovereign and what the ethical implications are of Divine sovereignty in ethical monotheism.
An additional adult-only project I engaged in was making a Rosh haShanah/Fall wreath to hang on the door.
Esthetic:
It was important to me that Rosh haShanah felt elevated, festive and seasonal. As a European who grew up celebrating Christmas, I had experienced Christmas esthetics in a way that centered a classic, festive mood rather than the whimsy of American Christmas and I wanted to transplant some of that 'vibe' into Rosh haShanah, our most elevated season. I created a gold-and-white tablescape with affordable golden charger plates from Michaels dotted with touches of red (apples) and amber (honey), used my Spode Judaica items for a pop of contrasting color and laid out a sumptuous fruit platter.
With some forethought and discipline, I was - for the first time in years of being a pulpit rabbi - able to enjoy a festive dinner with my family and friends while also repairing myself to the synagogue on time--without stress. All I needed to do in the morning was reheat the dishes, prepare the additional food items together with my husband and set the table. The kids were kept occupied with their crafts and we sat down to a beautifully styled and deliciously dinner. I was able to be fully present and enjoy the festival on its own terms. I felt I had reclaimed what I had lost in the busy-ness of my life.
All in all, I have every intention of going through the same process this year and I look forward to thawing my frozen brisket and searing it in the pan. I think I might play up the 'birthday of the world' theme with some birthday decor (this would be a fun and easy improvement) and ask the kids to make crowns again as well assigning them other age-appropriate crafts. Guess what? I already have some Rosh haShanah challah in the freezer...
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