“RABBI’S
MUSINGS (& AMUSINGS)”
Erev Rosh Hashanah of
5777
29 Elul Av 5776/ October
2, 2016
Although I have lived
in Monsey for most of my life, I am not a Monsey native. My formative years
were spent living in the legendary Lower East Side of Manhattan. Until I was
eight years old, we lived on the second floor of 550G Grand Street, near where
it intersects with East Broadway.
I have many wonderful
memories from my years living there. Gus’s pickles were a constant at our
Shabbos table, as were Chinese noodles purchased in nearby Chinatown. Through
first grade I attended Mesivta Tiferes Jerusalem, and our family davened in the
Poilishter Shteeble. But best of all was the fact that both sets of my
grandparents lived just a few minutes away, in nearby apartment buildings. It
was a special treat that when we would come to shul every Shabbos we would
daven alongside my Sabbah a’h.
One of the many endemic
experiences of living on the Lower East Side was saying tashlich near the base
of the Williamsburg Bridge on the first day of Rosh Hashanah. It seemed that
the entire Jewish community, which included hundreds of people, was there.
As a child I was sure
that it was our saying of tashlich that caused the East River to be so murky
and polluted. After all, the river contained all of the discarded sins of all
of Manhattan on one side, and all of Brooklyn and Queens on the other.
Another special
experience of those years was spending Shabbos with our Sabbah and Savta. They
lived on the fifth floor of their apartment building. On the way home from shul
we would race up the flights of stairs urging Sabbah – who did quite well for a
man of his age – to come quicker.
One of the highlights
of those Shabbosim was lying down in Sabbah’s bed when he would read us a book.
The book I remember him reading to us most was Scuffy.
Scuffy was a toy
tugboat who grew bored circling around the bathtub of his young owner. He
dreamed of traveling the open waterways in freedom. On one occasion he somehow
managed to wiggle away from his owner in a small pond. The pond flowed all the
way until it reached a river. Scuffy was enjoying every minute, including the
views along the way, until the river became more raging and he neared the vast
and frightening ocean. At the last moment before the water thrust him into the
ominous endless ocean, a hand grabbed the terrified little toy tugboat by its
stack. It was the young boy who owned Scuffy. Only from then on Scuffy was only
too happy to be back in the bathtub, circling around and doing what he was made
to do.
As a young boy that
story put me to sleep. Reflecting on that story now however, made me think of
it from a different perspective. In certain ways the story of Scuffy is our
story. Chazal relate that the yetzer hara does not immediately goad a person to
commit a serious transgression. Rather, he suggests that the person push his
boundaries slightly, to test out the waters. He convinces to do things that
aren’t really wrong per se, but may simply be something that make us feel
somewhat uncomfortable. But the current only becomes stronger, until the person
soon finds himself being rushed along the flow, no longer able to stop himself.
The once pleasant streams have flowed into uncontrollable raging rivers, which
lead to the ominous oceans.
But there is a hand
that reaches out to grab us and reel us in before we become completely lost. In
the waning moments of Yom Kippur, during the climactic prayer of Neilah, we
declare: “You give a hand to sinners.” There is hope for return!
Perhaps that is part of
the reason why the custom is to recite tashlich by a body of flowing water. It
reminds us of the progression of sin and how easily we can become swept away.
At the same time, it reminds us that there is a force stronger than all the
rivers and oceans, i.e. the Being that created repentance even before he
created those bodies of water.
We stand before the
water with a feeling of meekness and humility and begin the prayer, “Who is
like You, One who bears sin, and overlooks transgression…”
Therein lies our hope,
if we will only allow that outstretched hand to embrace us.
Gut G’bentscht Yahr & Shana Tova,
R’
Dani and Chani Staum