by Carrie Bornstein
Today is one of my favorite days of the year at Mayyim Hayyim: the day we put the honey sticks next to our front door in anticipation of Rosh Hashanah. Usually I hold off – waiting until the world’s birthday arrives to reunite my apple with its honey.
But today… let’s just say that my fingers are sticky as I type.
My first time learning the original sources about Rosh Hashanah was at the Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem, with one of my favorite teachers, Rabbi Zvi Wolff. I was ready to jump in – to learn the basis for one of the holidays I’d celebrated my whole life.
But after four weeks of intensive study about the structure of the Rosh Hashanah service, how to make amends with people we have wronged, and Who by Fire and Who by Water, I raised my hand.
“Um, Zvi?”
He glanced up reluctantly, possibly anticipating what would come next.
“Rosh Hashanah starts tomorrow night…”
“Yes?”
“Well, this is our last class before that.”
“And?”
“This is all so heavy. We’ve been focusing on t’shuvah (repentance), calling out to God, and the very day that God decides whether or not I’m going to live through the next year. What about the festivities? The apples? The honey? Happy New Year!?”
I couldn’t believe that such major representations of the holiday were not overtly noted in the text. I learned that even though we have brought this symbolism to the holiday, its essence, textually, is much more weighty.
This past month of Elul offers weeks of reflection time – to consider our relationships with one another, with God, and our place in the world. We have a chance to right what needs fixing, and commit to doing better in the future, petitioning for another year.
Perhaps it is precisely because of Rosh Hashanah’s gravity that we cling so tightly to the lightness of apples and honey. It’s just too scary without it.
So as our waters become filled with all those looking to mark the transition from one year to the next, a simple honey stick makes the weight of the holiday just a little more sweet.
Start your new year with a gift that’s sweet. Your gift to Mayyim Hayyim ensures a welcoming and safe experience in Boston, changes the face of Jewish ritual, and allows us to consult to communities around the world.
Carrie Bornstein is Mayyim Hayyim’s Executive Director. Follow her on twitter @carolinering.
E.J.
I still have my Honey Sticks from Mayyim Hayyim and when thinking about doing a Rosh Hashanah care package they were my inspiration. I love this holiday but I think you are absolutely right – without the sweetness and lightness the honey and apples bring it would be too much. Lovely lovely post.
Idana Goldberg
Hi Carrie – I just came across your post and noted your perplexity that apples and honey are “not in the text.” In doing research for RAVSAK’s Rosh Hashana card this year, (https://www.ravsak.org/programs/rosh-hashanah-2012) I learned two interesting things about the origins of the minhag, that I hope you don’t mind my sharing here. One, is that the earliest mention of honey in connection with Rosh Hashana is from Rav Hai Gaon (d. 1038 CE), who on Rosh Hashanah night would bring “gourds, fava beans, leeks, dates, beet greens, and fruits in a basket with honey and black-eyed peas.” Rav Hai Gaon would then recite: “A land flowing (with milk and honey).” The practice more familiar today, is first mentioned in 1330 CE by Rabbi Jacob ben Asher, known as the Tur, who explained that the custom in Germany was to start the Rosh Hashanah meal by eating a piece of apple dipped in honey and reciting May it be a sweet new year. What I think is so wonderful about these examples, and is so relevant to the important work you do at Mayyim Hayyim is the way that things that feel like they existed “forever” do indeed have their own origins and evolved along with local customs. May the new rituals that you help to create and facilitate at Mayyim Hayyim one day feel like “apples and honey.”
Shana Tova and Chag Sameach.
Idana Goldberg
Carrie Bornstein, Executive Director
Thanks, Idana!