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Meditations on Rosh ha'Shanah 5781: The Meaning of "Shanah Tovah"
When I think back to the headspace I was in last Erev Rosh ha'Shanah, I am shocked by the level of unfounded certainty I had about how the year would play out. Obviously, I didn't think I'd be able to predict the particulars of the upcoming year, but I was so secure in my ability to predict its general parameters that I wasn't even aware of my own baseless assumptions.
For example, I wondered, "How many new Shalhevet students will we be able to recruit in the upcoming year?" Never once did it occur to me that the school would close permanently. I wondered, "How successful will I be in preparing my AP English students for the exam in the spring?" Never once did I imagine that all of my students would be taking their drastically modified exam from home, after two months of stressful and disruptive preparation over Zoom. I wondered, "How will my personal and professional development this year improve my practices as a high school teacher next year?" Never in a million years would I have guessed that I would no longer be a high school teacher in 2020-2021.
The pandemic's telescoping effect on my ability to see into the future has been humbling, to say the least. The fact that we can't even see a week or two into the future has made me realize the folly of trying to predict what will happen later in the year. It has become increasingly real to me what ought to have been real all along: the fact that the future is unknowable.
Because of this fundamental shift in perspective, I find myself in a much better position to appreciate the reality of the Yom ha'Din (Judgment Day) we are about to experience. In the Zichronos part of the Mussaf of Rosh ha'Shanah we say: "and over countries [judgment] is pronounced, which of them is destined for the sword and which for peace, which for famine and which for abundance, and on it, creatures are recalled, to be remembered for life or for death." In past years statements like these seemed like hyperbolic abstractions, but this year they are more real than ever. The same is true of the mentality Chazal urged us to have, that our individual and collective fate is "hanging in the balance," awaiting the verdict of the Dayan ha'Emes (True Judge).
Speaking of Judgment Day, I find myself recalling the maxim that a certain single mother used to say to her son throughout his upbringing: "There is no fate but what we make." On its surface, this aphorism underscores the primacy of bechirah (free will) and its role in determining what happens in our lives. When I thought about this statement this morning, my reaction was, "That's not entirely true! Yes, our choices play a role in shaping our fate, but so much of our fate is determined by factors beyond our control! Our lives are a product of our own decisions and external factors!"
But then my thinking shifted back to the words of Shlomo ha'Melech, the Rambam, the Stoic thinkers, and others whose writings I've been pondering lately, and I was reminded that we live a dual life. One is life as a human being who lives in the world of ideas; the other is life as a physical creature living in a physical world. Regarding this physical life it would not be true to say, "There is no fate but what we make," but regarding our metaphysical existence as a tzelem Elokim (truth-seeking intellect), the statement is 100% true (regardless of whether this is what Ms. Connor had in mind when she said it).
Chazal teach: "Everything is in the hands of heaven except for the fear of heaven" (Berachos 33b). The Rambam (Responsa #436) explains that the phrase "fear of heaven" in this context refers to all of our free will decisions, insofar as all decisions culminate in either mitzvah or aveirah (transgression). Thus, while all of our other circumstances may be "in the hands of heaven," our "fear of Hashem" - that is, our life as a decision-making tzelem Elokim - is entirely in our own hands. No matter what unforeseen circumstances we find ourselves in, we always have the ability to choose between mitzvah and aveirah, wisdom and folly, good and evil, truth and falsehood.
And that, I believe, sheds a new light on the uncertainty of the upcoming year. The circumstances which will determine the trajectory of our physical lives this coming year are unknowable and unpredictable, but the factors which will determine our true lives are fully within our control. I find that thought to be both tremendously reassuring and terribly frightening. It means that no matter what happens to us this year, our fate as human beings is still in our own hands. "There is no fate but what we make."
The Rambam, in his commentary on Rosh ha'Shanah Perek 1 Mishnah 2, explains that the judgment of Rosh ha'Shanah and Yom ha'Kippurim determines things like health, sickness, life, death, and the other circumstances of our physical lives. In light of the foregoing observations, I believe we can reframe what we mean when we daven for, yearn for, and wish each other a "shanah tovah." We can't be asking for a year characterized by the true good - a year of choosing the good - since that good is dependent entirely on each of our own choices. Rather, I believe we are asking Hashem to bless us with external circumstances which are conducive to choosing the good, for it is far easier to make good choices when we enjoy health, security, livelihood, and the other physical blessings. What we do with these blessings is up to us, but we are entirely dependent on Hashem for furnishing the circumstances which facilitate our good choices.
And so, with that meaning in mind, I would like to wish all of us - you, me, the Jewish people, and all of mankind - a "shanah tovah."