Next Friday, the sun will set and the 23rd day of the Hebrew month of Tevet will begin.
Millions of Jews all around the world will gather together. Many will sit down to a festive meal, don special headgear and open bottles of special wine.
All of these millions of Jews will, at the appointed hour, recite the ritualistic and ceremonial words of that evening — “Happy New Year.”
The festive meal I referred to is not a Jewish one. The headgear consists of funny hats. The special wine is champagne. And the ritual I am referring to is “New Year’s Eve.”
Yes, there you have it. This year on the 23rd of Tevet — Dec. 31 — Jews will observe “New Year’s Eve,” which has tragically become a part of Jewish culture.
Frankly, I don’t fully understand how Jews can with sincerity wish other Jews a “Happy New Year” three months after Rosh Hashanah.
Whose new year is it? Indeed, I don’t even fully understand how Jews can celebrate Jan. 1 at all, which marks the circumcision of Jesus on the eighth day after his birth on Dec. 25.
I don’t understand the importance attached by Jews to “New Year’s Eve,” the start of the new Christian year, the new Christian era. Particularly when these Jews then add insult to injury by uttering the very same words they use to usher in the solemn and religious observance of Rosh Hashanah — “Happy New Year.”
“New Year’s Eve” has become so much a part of the Jewish people, that such parties are even held in synagogues, defiling those sanctuaries, degrading the religious significance of those holy places and disgracing the Jewish community.
Are we Jews that ignorant of the Christmas season and the significance of “New Year’s”? Are we that unaware? Are we that uncaring? Are we self-destructive?
Do we hold our Judaism, our self-respect, the martyrdom and sacrifice of Jews throughout the ages in such low regard that we must adopt Christian celebrations and practices. The very meaning of these practices disaffirms our faith and contradicts our being Jewish, considering that we were sometimes martyred at the hands of those who did so in the name of Christianity.
I don’t understand us.
When will we learn the truth that we Jews celebrate New Year’s by donning the yarmulke, the tallit and the kittel — not by wearing silly hats. We blow the shofar on our New Year’s, not irreverent noisemakers, which we reserve for Purim.
Our count down from 10 to 1 is not the seconds as we approach midnight, but rather the 10 days of repentance from Rosh Hashanah as we approach the closing of the gates at Yom Kippur’s final Ne’ilah service.
On our New Year’s we eat festive meals in our homes, not out on the town. And we eat those meals with our full families — not alone and apart from our children. We eat in the light of the candles we have kindled with blessing, rather than under the glare of sparklers and secular candlelight. We drink the solemn and sober wine of kiddush, not the frivolous and intoxicating bubbling wine of champagne.
We gather in synagogues, not in restaurants and hotels. We come together to pray, not to party. We observe in joy and solemnity, not in raucousness and debauchery.
When will we appreciate the fact that the only “hangover” from our Jewish New Year is a set of High Holy Day resolutions we made after the repentance, meditation and introspection of our liturgy and ritual.
When will we Jews learn that we have already in our faith and tradition a New Year’s celebration — one that is eminently more meaningful and appropriate to us as individuals and as Jews than “New Year’s Eve.”
This year the secular “New Year’s Eve” falls on our holy Shabbat, Friday evening, and we are faced with a choice.
We can celebrate a secular or Christian holiday in desecration of our own Sabbath, or we can usher in the holy Sabbath of our faith and our tradition.
Our choice should be clear. This year in particular, let our actions make a statement, to our children and to our community, as to what our priorities really are.