Rosh Hashanah, A Sweet New Year
My family takes a trip to Vancouver’s Granville Island public market every September, headed straight for the nearest local fruit stand. “Pick whatever looks the most interesting, but make sure it’s something you haven’t tried all year,” my dad instructs us. The usual picks are dragon fruit or passion fruit, which my siblings and I later cut open and wince at its brain-like texture. There is always a pomegranate and a handful of fresh apples.
Gathering new fruit is part of how my family welcomes Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. To me, this tradition encapsulates the essence of the holiday. A new year is a new beginning, a chance for a fresh start. There is a Jewish prayer called schecheanu that honours exactly this. Our selected fruits come home with us to our second night Rosh Hashanah dinner; we say the schecheanu, and dig in. To me, this sets a tone for what is to follow: a year of being open to new possibilities and connections.
Rosh Hashanah casts a positive outlook on the year to come without predicting its outcome – that’s up to you, as the holiday involves a lot of reflection and introspection. Growing up, Rosh Hashanah entailed two full mornings spent in synagogue alongside my mom, sister, and grandma. I would wear uncomfortable high-heeled shoes and anticipate the meal to follow. While my Hebrew knowledge could somewhat guide me through the content of the service, my mind usually wondered. Unlike December 31st, my focus is not on major changes, new activities, or sweeping commitments. While New Year’s resolutions are notorious for falling short come January 2nd, I have often found my Rosh Hashanah reflections to be long-lasting.
A key part of the Rosh Hashanah service is the blowing of the shofar – a ritual instrument made of a ram’s horn. The sounds of the shofar are a wakeup call, propelling its listeners into a period of repentance for their wrongdoings over the past year. Perhaps it is the blowing of the shofar, the spirituality of synagogue, or the traditions that symbolize starting anew, but Rosh Hashanah leads me to recapture my self-awareness and my relationships. I take inventory of my actions, consider the company I’ve kept, and seek forgiveness where necessary.
In line with other new year’s celebrations, optimism is central during Rosh Hashanah. “A sweet new year” is the season’s greetings, and we dip apples in honey to further reflect the sweetness associated with the holiday. On December 31st, New Year's Eve in the Gregorian calendar, optimism manifests through ambitious resolutions, midnight kisses, and glamorous parties.
Whether it is the Hebrew or the Gregorian calendar that you are flipping over, it should feel joyful and hopeful to begin a new year. While a risk-taking mindset is encouraged during this time, it is comforting to have traditions that signal that this year may just be better – or sweeter – than the last.
The opportunity to gain this awareness is what makes Rosh Hashanah special to me. Rosh Hashanah is holding up a mirror to life and having it reflected back to you through a lens of optimism and hope. It is turning a fresh page, even when you didn’t realize a page needed turning.
If this is the first time you are hearing about Rosh Hashanah, or you are celebrating this weekend like me, I hope you are inspired to reflect, recapture, and maybe try a new fruit.
Shana tova umetuka – have a happy and sweet new year.
Header: Amelia Tran