We are told over and over about the power of prayer. We know Hashem is more merciful than any person we could ever imagine. And Chazal tell us that Hashem waits for our prayers.
If we accept that our fate for the coming year is decided on Rosh Hashanah, we should spend the entire day in shul with tears streaming down our cheeks, imploring, beseeching, and begging Hashem for mercy. While it’s true that the davening on Rosh Hashanah is more intense than usual, for most people crying and begging isn’t an apt description. The question is: why?
Part of the reason is that the judgment on Rosh Hashanah is different from any other judgment we experience.
A Mockery of Justice
In 1994, O.J. Simpson was on trial for murder. The case drew great interest because, in a sense, the U.S. judicial system was on trial. To anyone reading the news objectively, it was clear. The man killed his wife. The question was: could money, fame, and bias sway the jury? A dream team of lawyers was called in to defend him. And after months of high acrobatics, a decision was reached.
The day the verdict was read, O.J. Simpson stood in court, waiting to hear his future. Would he spend the rest of his life behind bars, or would he again be free?
The jury foreman rose to read the verdict. “We find the defendant…not guilty.”
Simpson’s face lit up. The joy, the relief, the happiness was palpable.
That is judgment in this world. There is a period of fact finding, a period of deliberation, and then the decision is read for all to hear. At that point, the judge, the jury, the defendant, and all in attendance know the ruling.
We live through a similar process on Rosh Hashanah. There is a period of fact-finding and a period of deliberation before the verdict is reached. But we don’t hear the verdict. We don’t know what the decree is.
Were we given a year of life or not? Were we granted a year of health and well-being or not? The decree is set, but we don’t hear it. If we did, it would change the way we view life.
What We Don’t See
The Steipler Gaon was known as a man of extraordinary holiness and was accepted as one of the leaders of his generation. People would come to him from far and wide for advice or a berachah. Often, they would hear words that bordered on prophetic.
One day a man walked into the Steipler’s small apartment in Bnei Brak. It was midafternoon, and there were already many people on line waiting. Typically, the Steipler would sit at his desk and listen to the person who had come to see him for a moment or two, his eyes largely remaining on the sefer in front of him. It was rare for the Steipler to look up. When this man walked into the apartment, not only did the Steipler look up, he stared directly at him, and in Yiddish began shouting at him, “Rasha [wicked one], get out! Get out, rasha!”
Everyone in the room was silent. All eyes were on this man. He turned red. He turned white. Then he ran out of the apartment.
A few hours later, someone came to see the Steipler and said in a low voice, “Rosh Yeshiva, forgive me, but that man the Steipler called a rasha doesn’t seem to be such a rasha. When he left the Steipler’s apartment, he got into a car that had a number of other people inside. The car got into a major crash, and every other person in the car died. He was the only one who was unhurt. Obviously, he isn’t such a rasha!”
The Steipler responded, “Don’t you understand? When he walked into the room, the Angel of Death walked in with him. I didn’t have a choice. When someone humiliates his friend, it’s as if he killed him. That was the only way I could save him.”
There used to be a time when men like the Steipler could see the Angel of Death. We can’t. So it is difficult for us to relate to the issues that are decided on Rosh Hashanah.
Nevertheless, when you look around an average shul on Rosh Hashanah, you should recognize that many decrees are being put into place. That man who lost his job and can barely pay his bills will be granted a year of great financial well-being. That older single who has not yet found her bashert will be granted to meet him this year. The couple that has not yet merited having children will now be granted a child.
There will, however, also be many decrees that aren’t so pleasant. That man will lose his business. This family will go through great travails. That woman will be stricken with a dreaded illness. And if you daven in a large enough congregation, there will also be at least a few people who won’t make it to next Rosh Hashanah.
We don’t see this. We walk out of shul on Rosh Hashanah and we wish each person a good sweet year. But we don’t know. We don’t know what the decree is. We don’t know what the outcome will be.
But we understand that Hashem knows what is best. Hashem sits as the ultimate Judge, and Hashem metes out mankind’s fate.