Shana Tova to those who will celebrate Rosh Hashanah beginning at sundown this evening.
The seasons are starting to change, summer is ending and fall beginning and with it a rush to ready ourselves, especially here in New England for the winter we so often fear and never quite fully prepare for.
Happy 5782 (cue the noisemakers and the confetti? Probably not). Rosh Hashanah runs through nightfall Wednesday. Judaism is one of the world's most durable and enduring religious persuasions. As a FARC (Fallen Away Roman Catholic), I envy anyone whose faith, especially today in the world we have created, allows them to move forward and carry on; even if I no longer share that ability to believe (but would like to) because of misplaced, stiff-necked pride.
My existentialism of despair, I suppose, will have to provide its own comfort, cold as it is, or at least I hope it will as I have little else and when the day comes that I'm finally sure of my lines, I have every confidence no one will be there.
Rosh Hashanah celebrates a religion in many respects no larger, perhaps, in size than the mustard seed about which a Teacher of another time spoke so eloquently but whose impact by its very existence is, for many, proof of a Divine Providence's steadfast watchfulness in comparison to which, the birds of the sky and the lilies of the field can only dream while, sadly, in so many parts of the world, others who profess to revere a God of their making can only scheme.
-bill kenny
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