Every autumn, just as the leaves begin to hint at turning and the air starts whispering of change, the Jewish calendar rolls out one of its most profound and poetic holidays: Rosh HaShanah, the Jewish New Year.
Unlike the glitter and countdown of January 1st, Rosh HaShanah is quieter. Slower. Less about champagne and late nights. More about awakening to our gratitude for all we learned in the previous year and filling our hearts with hope for the coming year.
It’s a day not only of beginning but of becoming—not only of celebration but of creation.
So, what exactly are we doing on Rosh HaShanah? What is the purpose of Rosh HaShanah?
We’re doing what humans do best: telling stories, searching for meaning, and choosing (again) to be woven into the fabric of the world—with purpose. But what is that purpose?
The Psychology of New Beginnings
Psychologically, new years—whether secular or sacred—hold immense symbolic power. As psychologist William James noted, “There is nothing so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task.” Rosh HaShanah offers us the psychological gift of both completion and renewal.
From a neuroscience perspective, rituals like Rosh HaShanah can actually shift our cognitive wiring. They give us a liminal space—a threshold moment—to reflect, reset, and reorient ourselves. Just the act of setting intentions, engaging in ritual (like the sounding of the shofar and the collective chorus set within our worship services), and participating in community triggers the brain’s reward centers and soothes the nervous system.
In other words: the soul and the psyche both crave a moment to pause and start again. And they crave doing that collectively, in community.
You Are Here (On Purpose)
According to Jewish tradition, Rosh HaShanah marks the anniversary of the creation of the world—or more specifically, the creation of humanity. That’s right: the sixth day, the day we were formed from dust and divine breath. While the cosmos had already been busy sculpting oceans and galaxies, the entrance of the human being—adam—was the moment when creation itself tilted toward consciousness.
This isn’t just a lovely theological footnote. It’s the heartbeat of Rosh HaShanah.
The spiritual purpose of Rosh HaShanah is to remind us: you are not an accident. You are a co-creator in this endeavor. A partner in the ongoing unfolding of the world. This is the day we show up and embrace that role as partner, as co-creator in our world and in our community.
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel once wrote, “To pray is to take notice of the wonder, to regain a sense of the mystery that animates all beings, the divine margin in all attainments. Prayer is our humble answer to the inconceivable surprise of living.”2 Rosh HaShanah is our communal prayer that we, too, are alive, awake, and ready to co-create the year to come.
Builders of Israel, Builders of Tomorrow
Once we feel ready to begin again, we take on the mantle of bonei Yisrael. The phrase bonei Yisrael—builders of Israel—is not just a political or historical label. It’s a spiritual and psychological calling.
To be a builder is to believe that the world isn’t finished—and neither are you. Judaism doesn’t hand us a pristine utopia. Instead, it hands us tools: mitzvot, stories, rituals, values. And it says, “Go. Build something holy. Build community. Build justice. Build love.”
And here’s the kicker: you don’t have to be perfect to build. You just have to be willing to try. Willing to grow. Willing to show up. Willing to be wrong, and start again. This is Rosh HaShanah’s sacred psychology: the courage to begin—even when you’re still a work-in-progress (which, spoiler alert, we all are).
The Shofar: A Wake-Up Call and a Love Song
The shofar, the iconic ram’s horn blown on Rosh HaShanah, is often described as a spiritual alarm clock. But it’s not a nagging alarm. It’s more like your best friend calling you out with love: “Hey. You’re meant for something more. Time to remember who you are.”
Some commentaries teach that the shofar’s cries mirror human weeping—tekiah (steady), shevarim (broken), teruah (staccato)—because this is the day we feel everything5. The joy of creation. The grief of what’s broken. The excited energy it takes to heal and help and hope for what still can be created.
The shofar reminds us: Your voice matters. Your tears matter. Your presence matters. You matter.
So What Are We Celebrating, Really?
We’re celebrating that in a chaotic, complex, often aching world, we still choose to show up. We celebrate being woven together, both in community and also into the warp and weft of Creation itself.
We celebrate the power to renew the cycle of the year, and the radical audacity to believe that our actions—our choices, our repairs, our reaching out—actually matter.
We celebrate being bonei Yisrael, not just dreamers of a better world, but builders of it.
And most of all, we celebrate the possibility that this year, with all its unknowns and newness, might be the year we get a little closer to wholeness. Together.
Shanah Tovah. May this year be good, and may we be good to each other in it.
Sources
- James, W. (1890). The Principles of Psychology. New York: Henry Holt and Company.
- Van der Kolk, B. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score. Ritual and structured reflection can positively influence the parasympathetic nervous system and reduce anxiety.
- Babylonian Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 10b: “The world was created on the 25th of Elul; Adam was created on the first of Tishrei.”
- Heschel, A. J. (1954). Man’s Quest for God. New York: Scribner.
- Maimonides, Hilchot Teshuvah 3:4. The shofar is “a call to wake up from your slumber… and return to your soul.”
