Seen Sunday on the bus:
One lady is fiddling with her cell phone, seemingly oblivious to the loud beeps it’s broadcasting into the ear of the woman sitting next to her. Swelling visibly with irritation, Lady 2 finally lets her have it. Can’t she tell how annoying the noise is?
Lady 1 sticks up for herself, and then stands to leave the bus. It’s almost her stop.
But at the door of the bus, she turns back, and returns to her seat: “I’m sorry,” she says. “And happy new year.”
“Happy new year,” her former seatmate replies. And they part in peace.
Everyone’s conscience, religious and secular alike, seems to be tender at this time of year. Why?
On Monday, my morning soundtrack was punctuated with bus noises, birdsong, and the sweet voices of children sing-chanting their prayers. Schools across Israel resumed classes after the hofesh gadol: the “big break” of the summer. This was an unusually short break (since late June!) because the fall holidays are unusually early this year. There will be just time enough for the children to learn about the fall holidays, before they plunge into celebrating them!
And there are plenty of holidays to celebrate. Next Wednesday night marks Rosh Hashana, the traditional Jewish new year. Ten days later is Yom Kippur — the Day of Atonement — the solemnest day of all, when the streets are filled with children, because traffic has come to a stop, and almost everyone fasts. The ten “days of awe” in between are a time to clear one’s accounts before God and man, a time to repent — which in Hebrew means “to return.” Four days after that is the harvest-feast of Tabernacles, known in Hebrew as Sukkot.
In English, we wish one another a “Happy new year!” In Hebrew, you’re wished a good or sweet year. That’s why the festive food of choice, come next Wednesday night, will be apples dipped in honey.
So in this season we have fasting and feasting, awe and repentance and sweetness. Can we really mix all that?
Yes, and more. We can add polio vaccinations for the children, country-wide, thanks to a new strain of polio that somehow arrived here from Pakistan. (No new cases; just carriers, thank the Lord). We can add to that yet another possible conflict in the region: days of trepidation, preparing emergency supplies (and filling my freezer with homemade waffles because it’s nourishing comfort food) while waiting and wondering. Was that a chemical attack in Syria? (Probably). Will the US step in, as they’ve promised? And if they do, will the Syrians retaliate on Israel, as they’ve promised?
We have to wait and see.
So in this season of awe and repentance and preparation and trepidation, is there such a thing as sweetness?
The answer to that is YES.
Recently, someone told me of a book called Repentance, the Joy-filled Life. And you know, if God is our Father, then to repent is to return home to joy. And even fear and trepidation can be sweet, when it reminds us to run home pell-mell, and into His waiting arms.
Recently, I read Isaiah 53 in Hebrew and was struck with the majesty of the language, the majesty of God’s intent for us, and the sheer dizzying height of His sacrificial love.
Just one verse contains the gospel in a nutshell. As my mentor once told me, you can go in one end, and come out the other, saved!
All we like sheep have gone astray,
Each of us turned to his own way
And the Lord has laid on him
The iniquity of us all.
It paints a picture of unruly, willful sheep, trampling on their own green pastures, knocking over the table spread for them in the wilderness, lost in the maze of their own foolish choices. And a shepherd who says, “No matter the cost, I want to find them!” And then He does.
Oh yes, there’s sweetness. There’s a table in this wilderness. It’s the fact that we’re with Him.
Elisabeth Adams 