From the Rabbi...

Come and walk with us along the way. Be part of Emmanuel's congregational life. Share our ups and downs, and get to know who we are. The following article represents some of my thoughts over the past ten years, or so. Some of the material may be a bit outdated—just overlook the references to time, and listen for the heart in each story.

What Makes the High Holy Days "High"?

I don't know about you, but each year at this time I have to remind myself just why the upcoming holidays are called the High Holy Days. After all, many of the biblical holidays seem as special as these.

At Passover we ask, "Why is this night different from all other nights?" Perhaps Passover should be a high holy day. In the winter, we enjoy Hanukkah—menorahs, potato latkes, dreydels, eight days of gifts. It's a pretty "high" time. Why not call Hanukkah a high holiday? Purim, with its parties, plays, carnivals and hamantashen is certainly an up time. We get silly and have a pretty "high" celebration. Why isn't Purim considered a high holiday?

Why do we call only Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur High Holy Days? What makes the High Holy Days so high?

Rosh HaShanah, which literally means "Head of the Year," isn't a High Holy Day because it's considered the Jewish New Year. It's nothing like December 31 with all its revelry. So, as a New Year's celebration, if it leaves so much to be desired, why call it "high"?

The "highness" is found in the real meaning of the day. The name Rosh HaShanah is not found in the Bible, but in Jewish tradition. The biblical name for this day is Yom Teruah, "the Day of the Blowing" (of the shofar, the "ram's horn").

The shofar blew to warn the people of Israel of danger, to call the congregation to worship, to announce a fast, but most importantly, to awaken the people to repentance. Rosh HaShanah is a "high" holyday, not because it has become the traditional New Year's Day, but because the sound of the shofar was heard and the people were called to the higher activity of appreciating the kingship of God.

Yom Kippur, the second High Holy Day, is the annual time the nation of Israel had their sins atoned for. The day was accompanied by animal sacrifices, an awesome ceremony by the High Priests, and a general sense of relief when the sacrifice was offered and atonement was made. But there is no more Temple, no sacrificial system. So why is it still called "high"?

Even without the Temple and the sacrificial system, the concept of atonement, of having ones sins forgiven, was maintained in the diaspora. The foundation was laid in the Torah; the actuation occurs every day. Thus, we fast on Yom Kippur as a reminder of the sacrifices in ancient days. This, too, is a high activity, and thus Yom Kippur became one of the High Holy Days.

The ten days between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur are called the "Days of Awe," the Yamim Nora'im, days in which to make amends with those whom we have wronged in the past year—especially God. Having spent time before Rosh HaShanah examining one's life (traditionally, the entire month before—Elul—is used for this purpose), when the shofar sounds we begin seeking reconciliation with those we have wronged in the past year.

On Yom Kippur, when the final shofar blast is heard, we symbolically see the gate (ne'ilah) of heaven closed for another year. Hopefully we've made amends with all those we've wronged and will find ourselves written in the Book of Life for another year. The Days of Awe add to making the High Holy Days high.

During this season, the routines of life—making a living, raising the children, enjoying a hobby—are downplayed in deference to considering the kingship of God and his rule in our lives. That's why these two holy days and the days in between, although not described as "more important" in the Bible, have been elevated to the status of the "High Holy Days." The rabbis understood just how important repentance, reconciliation and atonement were. We who are Messianic know that we have all of this through Yeshua. May our observance of the High Holy Days be truly high this year.

Yours in Yeshua,

Rabbi Baruch (Barry) Rubin