A few hours before Rosh Hashanah, my phone buzzed. I opened it and read:
“Shana Tova, dead Rabbi.”
Death threads on the eve of one of the holiest days of the year?! From a friend—or who I thought was a friend—no less?
Don’t worry—I’m alive and well. At least I think I am. And I’m pretty sure my friend was a victim of autocorrect at its finest and wasn’t actually letting out his anger at me just hours before the Day of Judgment. He probably didn’t even notice!
But it got me thinking about what Rosh Hashanah really means, and I think maybe there is something to take note of in that odd little greeting.
In a sense, we’re all supposed to become a little “dead” on Rosh Hashanah. Every year G-d gives us a chance to hit reset, to let go of the old version of ourselves, and to step into the new year newly alive, reborn almost, with a clean slate. All the things that have been holding us back and dragging us down—the anger, grudges, jealousy, laziness, pettiness, and bad habits—those parts of us need to die so that the new version of ourselves can be born.
Much like a snake can’t grow without shedding its skin and a seed can’t sprout without disintegrating first, a person can’t truly begin a new year without saying goodbye to at least some of the old one. In Chassidic thought, this is called bittul—nulification. You have to nullify yourself in order to become a better person. Let go of your ego; let go of arrogance. Humble yourself, so that the real, holy, alive you can shine through unencumbered.
I was deeply inspired by how many people took new commitments upon themselves in our shul over Rosh Hashanah: to study Torah, to give charity, to come to shul more often … and so many others.
As we step into 5786, I encourage you to examine what in your life is ready to “die” so that something new and holy can be born. What grudges, fears, or bad habits are holding you back from living fully?
● Used to waking up at 8 a.m.? Wake up an hour earlier at 7 a.m. so you can come to shul and be part of a minyan.
● Used to working late on Fridays? Scrap that—come home early to light Shabbat candles before sunset.
● Mindlessly scrolling on your phone at night? Kill that habit and study Torah instead!
It appears my friend’s autocorrect was, in fact, a stroke of Divine inspiration, and “Shana Tova, dead Rabbi” really means: may this year bring the death of the parts of you that hold you back—and may the real you, the good, vibrant, holy, alive, core you, shine brighter than ever before.
So to my friend (and his mischievous iPhone): thank you for the blessing. And to all of you—my community, my friends, my family—may this year bring you life. Real life. A year where your soul is awake, your heart is open, and your joy is abundant.
Shana Tova—from your very much alive rabbi.