Erev Rosh-Hashanah 5786
A moonless night has fallen, and a new year has begun. In the Jewish calendar, each Jewish day begins, not arbitrarily in the middle of the night, but rather, after sunset, and then, daylight receding minute by minute, proceeds into the darkness. If ‘Jewish time’ is part of our consciousness, when the sun sets, we will be conscious of the transition from one day to the next. As it is, most of us are aware of Jewish time only in moments; on Shabbat; at festivals; in particular, when a new year begins. Our lives regulated by the civil calendar we rarely live in Jewish time. This is most obvious when it comes to the changing months. Of course, we know when the first day of Tishri begins because it heralds the New Year, Rosh Ha-Shanah. But what about the other months of the year?
Moon-watchers, familiar with the phases of the moon, will have more of a sense of the changing Jewish months because each month follows the moon: beginning in darkness, day-by-day, the waxing moon becomes full between the 14th and 16th of each month, before waning, and ending in darkness. Significantly, the new year, alone of all the sacred days, dawns during the dark phase of the moon. The festival that marks the mid-point of the year, Pesach in the Spring, commences at the full-moon. Three other sacred days are also located around the full moon: the biblical late harvest festival of Sukkot, begins, like Pesach on the 15th of the month; similarly, the post-biblical New Year for Trees, Tu Bishvat; while Purim, is on the 14th.
Being conscious of the Jewish calendar does not indicate a preoccupation with Jewish concerns. On the contrary. Unlike the civil calendar, the Jewish calendar, governed by sunsets and moon phases, is moored in the natural world. According to Jewish tradition, ‘today is the birthday of the world’ – ha-yom harat olam.[1] The changing year-date, reflects a counting of the years based on the chronologies in the book of Genesis that take us back to yom echad, ‘day one’ of the planet, as recounted in Genesis chapter 1, verses 1-5; the world ushered into existence by the word of God. We read in verse 5:
Va-yikra Elohim la-or, ‘yom’, v’la-choscheh kara, ‘lailah’. Va-y’hi-erev, va-y’hi-voker, yom echad’.
Translated literally:
Then God called to the light, ‘Day’, and to the darkness, He called, ‘Night’. And there was evening and there was morning, one day.
‘One day’, not ‘first day’; there is no presumption in the verse about what is to follow: a ‘second day’ (1:8); ‘third day’ (1:13); and so on.
Of course, as progressive Jews we do not believe that the world came into existence by the word of God five thousand eight hundred and eighty-six years ago. But you don’t have to be a creationist to appreciate the importance of celebrating the birthday of the world, any more then you have to embrace the midrashic notion of God creating and destroying multiple worlds before creating this one to appreciate the imperative of tikkun olam, the repair of the world.[2] The significant point is that the Jewish calendar begins, not with the first ancestors of our people, but with the earth, and the wider universe. The Jewish year turns with the planet around the Sun, and measures time with the phases of the moon.
So, as the New Year begins in the darkness of this moonless night, we have the opportunity to pause and consider our responsibilities as citizens of this wondrous blue planet. As we do so, we can draw on the resources of our Jewish texts, not least, in the first two chapters of the Book of Genesis.
There are two creation narratives in B’reishit, Genesis. Genesis 1 presents a hierarchical account with humanity as the apex of creation empowered to dominate and subdue the other living creatures (Gen.1.28). Genesis 2 gives a more holistic account in which the human formed from the dust of the ground, has the more modest role of Gardener and Guardian (Gen.2.15).
Apart from the fact that humanity is created last, the apex of life, Creation in Genesis 1 is conjured up by words and the Creator creates by declamation: ‘And God said, “let there be light”. And there was light’ (Gen.1.3). In Genesis 2, on the other hand, Creation is so tangible, it is, quite literally, earthy. Rather than employing the abstract verb to ‘create’, bara (root: Beit Reish Aleph), here, like a potter, YHWH God ‘forms’ [va-yitzar] (root: Yud Tzadi Reish) the human out of the dust of the ground. Moreover, the human [ha-adam] is directly identified with the ground [ha-adamah].
An earthling, formed from the dust of the ground, the human also partakes of the Divine. In Genesis 1, the connection with the Divine is abstract: the human is created in the image of God (who has no image). In Genesis 2, the connection is visceral: ‘YHWH God … breathed into their nostrils [b’apav] the breath of life [nishmat chayyim]’ (Gen.2.7). The human is infused with the Divine.
Although the first and second narratives concerning the creation of humanity are distinguished by the emphasis on human domination in the first and guardianship in the second, both present unequal relationships: the unequal relationship between the human and the rest of Creation in Genesis 1, and the unequal relationship in Genesis 2 both between the human and the animals whom the human names (2.19-20), and between the man and the woman (2.23).
Nevertheless, there are also hints in both accounts of coexistence with the Earth and its creatures. Significantly, in Genesis 1, a feature shared in common by both humans and animals, is that they are vegetarian. As we read (Gen.1.30):
And to every land animal, and every bird of the sky, and all that creeps on the Earth which is a living being [nefesh chayyah], [I give] all green vegetation for food.
Later, after the flood which has destroyed all the vegetation, that shared bond between all living creatures is broken when humans are permitted to eat meat, albeit, not the blood, which is identified as the nefesh, the ‘being’ of the animal (Gen.9.3-4).
With the identification of an animal’s blood as their nefesh, ‘being’, we have another significant connection between humanity and the animals. Although the second Creation narrative singles out the human for nishmat chayyim, the ‘breath of life’, each creature, according to the first account, is a living being, nefesh chayyah. I have translated the word nefesh as ‘being’. The more familiar and usual translation is ‘soul’. But the concept of soul – a consequence of the binary division between body and spirit – is not found in the Hebrew Bible. Nefesh has a much more material resonance in the biblical landscape, hence, the identification of the ‘blood’ of an animal as its nefesh. Significantly, all the words that have been spiritualised in post-biblical discourse – ru’ach, n’shamah and nefesh – have a materiality about them: ru’ach, ‘spirit’, that which moves unseen, is ‘wind’; n’shamah is ‘breath’, which by definition is a physical dynamic property, albeit invisible; nefesh; the inner ‘being’ is identified with blood, because that is the substance that flows around inside the body, not least, activating our beating hearts. Ru’ach, n’shamah and nefesh are all invisible, but they are all, nevertheless, tangible, physical forces.
The Creation narratives in B’reishit may be read as mythological stories about how things began, and also as cautionary tales about human arrogance. They may also be read for their teachings concerning the need for human beings to exercise responsibility in relation to the Earth and its myriad forms of life, and for their suggestions concerning the essential affinity between the human and the Earth – adam-adamah – and between the human and the other creatures that are also designated as nefesh chayyah, living beings. As earthlings, human beings are not just burdened with the role of being guardians, we are blessed with the same gift of existence as all the other forms of life. This blessing, experienced with every precious breath we take, is an invitation to coexistence.
This blessing also has practical implications for the treatment of other creatures, and for the harnessing of the green life of the planet to human needs. For example, from a Jewish perspective, the dietary laws which are rooted in binary teaching concerning what may or may not be eaten, initially set out in the Book of Leviticus chapter 11, have been reframed in some circles to reflect ecological considerations. Kashrut, a noun based on the Hebrew root Kaf Shin Reish, means that which is ‘fit’. In recent years Jewish definitions of food fitness have expanded to include our responsibility for animal welfare and the environment, with organic, local, and free-range food production, and the need to protect species diversity, becoming major priorities.[3]
The observance of Shabbat provides another opportunity for practising coexistence. Caught up in the 24/7 culture of contemporary life, it is hard to set aside a day of complete cessation. But perhaps, as we face ecological devastation and climate catastrophe, as we count the cost of near-global industrialisation and reckless consumerism, as we begin to acknowledge our domination of all other life forms on the planet, as we run out of breath, we may begin to see in Shabbat an invitation to take a breath and rediscover ourselves as earthlings, and equally important, to give the Earth a rest, too.
The root meaning of Shabbat is to ‘cease’. Shabbat is our weekly opportunity to cease our frenetic activity, at least for one day. Significantly, the biblical calendar in the Book of Leviticus chapter 23, places Shabbat at the head of the list of festivals that follow (Leviticus 23:2-3). This is because Shabbat is the model for all the sacred days of the biblical year, including the first day of the seventh month (Lev. 23:23-25), which became Rosh Ha-Shanah, literally ‘the head of the year’.[4] All the festivals are marked by ceasing from work and gathering in community.
The expression used throughout Leviticus 23 to indicate this gathering in community is mikra kodesh, literally, ‘a sacred calling together’. So, here we are this evening, on the birthday of the world, summoned to be part of this mikra kodesh, and to embark on our journeys of t’shuvah, of ‘return’, together and individually, towards renewal. We are called to repair our lives and our relationships. We are also called to contribute to the repair of the world, tikkun olam. If the repair of the world is to become a reality, it will entail recognising ourselves as earthlings and embracing a life of coexistence with all the life forms on this planet, our only home. Kein y’hi ratzon. May this be our will. And let us say: Amen.
Rabbi Elli Tikvah Sarah
Leicester Progressive Jewish Congregation
Erev Rosh-Hashanah 5786
22nd September 2025 – 1st Tishri 5786
See Machzor Ruach Chadashah (London, Liberal Judaism, 2003, p.147) for the text of ‘Ha-Yom harat olam’, a text, usually sung that begins, ‘Today is the birthday of the world.’ Traditionally, it is recited after each set of shofar blasts during the Rosh Ha-Shanah Musaf, ‘Additional’ Service. It is found in the first published liturgy, Siddur Rav Amram, vol. II, p.114 (9th century) and is common to the rites of all denominations. ↑
See, for example, Midrash B’reishit Rabbah 3:7 (c.300-500 CE), for commentary on Genesis 1 which speaks of previous worlds that God had created and destroyed. ↑
See: The LJ leaflet Ethical Eating by Rabbi Janet Burden https://www.liberaljudaism.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/Ethical-Eating-MAR-2020.pdf See also: https://evolve.reconstructingjudaism.org/eco-kashrut-a-kashrut-for-our-times/
https://ecojudaism.org.uk/ The Eco Synagogue initiative Focuses on the practical application of ecological considerations to congregational life, including, synagogue food policies https://www.jvs.org.uk/2018/03/12/ecosynagogue-launches-london/ For an individual example of eco-agriculture in action in Britain: https://sadehfarm.co.uk/saveMidrash Tehillim (Psalms)sadeh ↑
The first paragraph of Mishnah Rosh Ha-Shanah (1:1) lists the four days that are ‘new years’ the Jewish year: First of Nisan: the new year for Kings, and for the order of the festivals; first of Elul: the New Year for animal tithes; First Tishri: ‘The new year for years – rosh ha-shanah la-shanim’; Fifteenth of Sh’vat (Tu Bishvat): ‘the new year for the tree – rosh ha-shanah la-ilan. ↑