As the season known in Jewish tradition as the 'High Holy Days' begins, Helen Belton looks at the meaning and significance of Rosh HaShanah (Jewish New Year) or the Feast of Trumpets.
This Sunday night, Jewish people around the world will gather in synagogues and homes to celebrate the eve of the Jewish New Year with prayers, songs and food - particularly sweet food (typically apples and honey), symbolising the desire for a sweet year ahead. People greet each other with "Shanah Tovah!" or 'Good Year!'
This festival is known in the Bible as the 'Feast of Trumpets', but how did it also become known as Jewish New Year? In the Bible the instructions about this festival are sparse.
Leviticus 23:23-25:
The Lord said to Moses, "Say to the Israelites: 'On the first day of the seventh month you are to have a day of sabbath rest, a sacred assembly commemorated with trumpet blasts. Do no regular work, but present a food offering to the Lord.'"
Numbers 29:1-6:
On the first day of the seventh month hold a sacred assembly and do no regular work. It is a day for you to sound the trumpets. As an aroma pleasing to the Lord, offer a burnt offering of one young bull, one ram and seven male lambs a year old, all without defect. With the bull offer a grain offering of three-tenths of an ephah of the finest flour mixed with olive oil; with the ram, two-tenths; and with each of the seven lambs, one-tenth.
Include one male goat as a sin offering to make atonement for you. These are in addition to the monthly and daily burnt offerings with their grain offerings and drink offerings as specified. They are food offerings presented to the Lord, a pleasing aroma...
No mention of New Year, so how did the association come about? Biblically, New Year is at Passover. Exodus 12:2: "This month is to be for you the first month, the first month of your year." It is a more obvious choice, as it marks the redemption from Egypt.
However, in rabbinic tradition the first of the month of Tishri, the day of the Feast of Trumpets, came to be known as Rosh HaShanah, literally 'Head of the Year' ('Rosh' is Hebrew for head, 'ha' is the definite article, and 'shanah' means year). This may have arisen because Exodus 23:26 and Exodus 34:22 describe the Feast of Tabernacles (also known as the Feast of Ingathering, i.e. of the harvest) which takes place 15 days later as occurring at the end (or turn) of the year, signifying the close of the agricultural year and the beginning of the next.1 Ezekiel 40:1 also speaks of the time of Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement, which follows 10 days after Rosh HaShanah) as being at the beginning of the year. Also, Ezra read the Torah (the Law of Moses) before Israel on Tishri 1 in Jerusalem (Neh 7:73-8:9).2
The Jewish historian Josephus wrote in the first century: "Moses...appointed Nisan [the month of Passover]...as the first month for the festivals...the commencement of the year for everything relating to divine worship, but for selling and buying and other ordinary affairs he preserved the ancient order [i.e. the year beginning with Tishri]" (Antiquities 1.81).3
In rabbinic tradition, the 1st of the month of Tishri became the first day of the new year for all ordinary affairs, perhaps because of its proximity to the turn of the agricultural year.
In Jewish tradition, the gates of heaven are opened at Rosh HaShanah and closed on Yom Kippur. In between are Ten Days of Repentance (Aseret Yemei Teshuvah). By the end of Yom Kippur, one hopes to be inscribed in God's Book of Life.
Rosh HaShanah is also known as 'Yom HaDin', or 'Day of Judgement'. We are called before the heavenly Judge to give account for the deeds of the preceding year and to be weighed in the balance. Abraham Chill writes:
Satan stands there to indict him. Armed with accusations, incriminations and denunciations he charges that this person is incorrigible and irredeemable; he sins continually; she brazenly defines the word of God – in short, this man or woman deserves to die.
In order to negate the accusations of the enemy, preparation for Rosh HaShanah begins early.
On the first day of the month of Elul (which began this year at sundown on 14 August), prayers of repentance, known as selichot, are said. A custom that has grown up in the last 200 years is to read Psalm 27 every day during the month of Elul, with its emphasis on the light and salvation of the Lord, the plea that the Lord would not hide his face in anger, or reject or forsake, and the final command to "Wait for the Lord". There is also a custom of saying repentance prayers (known as tashlich, meaning casting) at a body of water, to reflecting Micah 7:19, "You will again have compassion on us; you will tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea."
The daily blowing of the shofar or ram's horn begins at Rosh HaShanah, a sound which heralds the period known as the High Holy Days or the 'Days of Awe' (Yamim Noraim).
The sound of the shofar is the rallying call to repentance (Heb. teshuvah, literally return). Psalm 89:15 states: "Blessed is the people that knows the joyful sound". In Hebrew, "joyful sound" is teruah, the sound of the ram's horn, and so the Feast of Trumpets is known as Yom Teruah. Teruah means a massive shout, either by a crowd or by a ram's horn, the kind of shout that caused the walls of Jericho to come tumbling down (Josh 6:20).
Teruah is a form of prayer that appears several times in the Psalms: "All you people clap your hands, raise a joyous shout (teruah) to God" (Psa 47:2). During their travels in the desert, the sound of the shofar alerted the people of Israel when it was time to move on. Both meanings of teruah, a joyous shout of supplication and the sounding of the shofar, unite in Yom Teruah (Feast of Trumpets).
The daily blowing of the shofar is intended to rally people to repentance and is said to herald God's judgment and victory.
There is an imperative to this sound: it is awe-inspiring and can make us tremble. When God gave the Torah at Mount Sinai, the shofar sounded: "On the morning of the third day there was thunder and lightning, with a thick cloud over the mountain, and a very loud trumpet blast. Everyone in the camp trembled" (Ex 19:16).
The sound of the shofar commands repentance. It is an opportunity we spurn at our peril. "Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts as you did in the rebellion" says Psalm 81 (also Psalm 95 and Hebrews 3:15). The "rebellion" refers to the incident where Moses struck the rock and water came out after the Israelites complained about lack of water. It became synonymous with the people of Israel testing their God. The correct order is established at Rosh HaShanah: God tests his people. We must be soft-hearted and repentantly open to God's testing, rather than hard-hearted, querulous and stubborn:
"He [Moses] named the place Massah [testing] and Meribah [quarrelling] because of the quarrel of the sons of Israel, and because they tested the LORD, saying, "Is the LORD among us, or not?'" (Ex 17:7).
Psalm 81 speaks of God's frustration with his people's intransigence: "If my people would only listen to me, if Israel would only follow my ways...with honey from the rock I would satisfy you." This is a symbol of the sweet presence of God in our lives which is only available through Messiah: 1 Corinthians 10:4 says that the spiritual rock that accompanied the Israelites in the desert was Messiah. The passage also warns that they all went through the same experiences in the desert but many of them perished and only some were saved. It is a stark and timeless warning that not all who journey with us and receive the same blessings will ultimately respond to God's voice.
Rosh HaShanah establishes that we do not test God, but God tests his people.
Challah bread shaped for Rosh HaShanah.At Rosh HaShanah, Sabbath bread (challah) is dipped into honey, which symbolises the hope for a sweet new year in harmony with God and man. Challah is plaited for the Sabbath but at Rosh HaShanah it is curled into a circle. By tradition, Rosh HaShanah is the anniversary of creation and so on that day we declare that the Lord is King of the world - the round or crown shape of the bread is a reminder of that.
Rosh HaShanah is known in Jewish liturgy as a 'Day of Remembrance' (Yom Hazikaron). It is a day to remember the binding (akedah in Hebrew) of Isaac, that mysterious story which baffles and amazes in Genesis 22, which is read in synagogues on the second day of Rosh HaShanah. Also read is the story of Hagar and Ishmael being sent away into the desert (Gen 21). Other readings are 1 Samuel 1:1-2:20, where Hannah dedicates her precious son Samuel to the Lord, with its echo of Abraham's willingness to sacrifice Isaac, and Jeremiah 31:1-19 with its message of redemption from exile. Sacrifice, testing, dedication and redemption are the themes.
At Rosh HaShanah, God is measuring our deeds in the light of eternity, remembering those which are laudable, which then become part of God, so to speak, as they are part of the divine memory. God chooses to forget the misdeeds of which we have repented, so that they are not carried into eternity.
At Rosh HaShanah, Sabbath 'challah' bread is dipped in honey symoblising hope for a sweet new year in harmony with God and man.
1 Corinthians 3:13 speaks of those whose deeds that are not built on the foundation of Messiah:
"their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day [Day of Judgement] will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person's work."
By the end of Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement), 10 days after Rosh HaShanah, rabbinic teaching says that judgement for that year is sealed and the books of life and death are closed: one hopes to be inscribed in the Book of Life rather than the Book of Death. Repentance towards God and man and good deeds in the run up to Rosh HaShanah are hoped to outweigh the bad deeds of the year so that one may continue to live, but there is no assurance of acceptance.
It is only in Messiah that we have the certain hope of redemption. As we come into his light our deeds are exposed and we see that even those we hoped were righteous are "filthy rags" (Isa 64:6).
Ephesians 5:8-16 promises that in Messiah we escape darkness (and the futility of trusting in our good deeds to win favour with God) and we come into the light of the Lord. Let us open our ears to the trumpet or shofar blast calling us to repentance, reminding us of the ram that replaced Isaac as sacrifice and let us pray that more and more Jewish people will awaken to the true meaning of the Akedah, that it is Messiah who is our sacrifice, who is calling us to repentance in the blowing of the ram's horn. We echo the prophetic cry:
"Wake up, sleeper,
rise from the dead,
and Messiah will shine on you."
Those who awaken from spiritual slumber may look forward to the final trumpet or shofar call of God, in fulfilment of the promised redemption. 1 Corinthians 15:51-52 reminds us of that glorious hope:
Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed — in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.
Those who awaken from spiritual slumber may look forward to the final trumpet or shofar call of God, in fulfilment of the promised redemption.
Similarly 1 Thessalonians 4:15-16 is associated with the Festival of Trumpets:
According to the Lord's word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Messiah will rise first.
Let us pray this Rosh HaShanah for every Jewish soul to be inscribed in God's Book of Life in line with the apostle John's vision in Revelation 20:12, "And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Another book was opened, which is the book of life. The dead were judged according to what they had done as recorded in the books."
Passover is about flooding the memory, binding the mind to the eternal. In evoking the past, meaning is restored to the present and hope assured for the future.
“Why is this night different from all other nights?” This is the ancient question the youngest child asks at the Passover meal. The short answer for this and most Jewish festivals is, “They tried to kill us, they didn’t succeed, let’s eat!” The serious answer is the same but more elaborate: it is a celebration of God’s deliverance, freedom and new life
Passover carries cultural resonance like no other festival, being powerfully evocative even for those who do not fully grasp its spiritual significance.
The celebration of Passover has helped to ensure the survival of the Jewish people, reminding each generation of the hope of deliverance during dark times. One of the names for Passover is the Season of our Freedom (Heb. translit. Z'man Cheiruteinu). Yet freedom for the Jewish people has been elusive. During centuries of exile and persecution, the dream of Zion was kept alive at Passover in the final poignant line of the haggadah1: “Next year in Jerusalem”.
"Passover was a journey of hope for all generations: from slavery to freedom, from darkness to light, from exile to restoration."
Empires rose and fell but this tiny people survived through centuries of persecution and exile. Why? Because God has preserved them. One of his tools for their preservation is their continual re-enacting of his deliverance at Passover. Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote in 1967, when the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, came back under Jewish control for the first time in 2000 years during the Six Day War:
Why did our hearts and minds throughout the ages turn to Eretz Israel [the land of Israel], to the Holy Land? Because of memory…There is a slow and silent stream, a stream not of oblivion but of memory from which we must constantly drink before entering the realm of faith. To believe is to remember. The substance of our very being is memory, our way of living is retaining the reminders, articulating memory.2
Passover was not simply about the preservation of the past; it was the key to the future. It was a journey of hope for all generations: from slavery to freedom, from darkness to light, from exile to restoration. Each generation is a link in the chain of the journey from slavery to redemption.
Passover is not just about recollection, but partaking. The story is revived each year with each generation taking its place as the subject of the narrative.
In every generation, every person must see himself as if he himself came out of Egypt, the haggadah instructs, because Moses commanded that when you eat the unleavened bread of Passover, “On that day tell your son, ‘I do this because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt’” (Ex 13:8).
From the Warsaw Ghetto Underground Press, April 1, 1942, the eve of Passover:
We are still having the festival of freedom at a time of inhuman slavery. And even though freedom is being trampled underfoot every day by the boots of the most terrible monster in all generations, it continues to flourish in our souls, and we believe and hope.
Passover, the most beautiful festival in our history, returns and revives the eternal idea of freedom in our memory. For [our] tortured [people] these days, it is a recollection of redemption. We understand today [more] than before the meaning of the words, ‘In every generation, every person must see himself as if he himself came out of Egypt.’ It is the command of history. No generation may forget the experiences that the people underwent in the foreign diasporas.3
In Deuteronomy 25:17-19, Israel was instructed to remember their first national enemy who had attempted to annihilate them:
Remember what the Amalekites did to you along the way when you came out of Egypt. When you were weary and worn out, they met you on your journey and attacked all who were lagging behind; they had no fear of God. When the Lord your God gives you rest from all the enemies around you in the land he is giving you to possess as an inheritance, you shall blot out the name of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget!
So they were to remember, but in order to forget. However, the Amalekite spirit persists and has not been blotted out. At the Jewish festival of Purim, deliverance from attempted genocide by Haman, a descendant of the Amalekites (recorded in the book of Esther), is celebrated. Hamans have continued to arise. “In every generation, they rise up against us to annihilate us” laments the haggadah.
So, as you remember what happened to your ancestors, you imagine that first flight from your persecutors as though you were there: you escaped Egypt, crossed the sea on dry land, and fled to safety following a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.
Hebrews 7:10, discussing priestly tithing, says that Levi could be said to have paid tithes through Abraham to Melchizedek even though he was not alive then, but because he was in the body of his ancestor. The implication of this curious idea is that because each Jewish life is inherited from another Jewish life, in a continual chain of descent, so with the author of Hebrews it could be said that each person was there at that first Passover in the body of their ancestors.
Leon Wieseltier writes:
It was one of the primary purposes of Jewish ritual and liturgy to abolish time, to make Jews divided by history into contemporaries (and Jews divided by geography into neighbours); in this way the many communities of Judaism were unified into a single people and the experiences of many Jews into a single story.4
God instructed Israel to observe this festival because it would be like a sign (in Hebrew, ot; in Greek, semion).
This observance will be for you like a sign on your hand and a reminder on your forehead that this law of the Lord is to be on your lips. (Ex 13:9)
This is one of the verses from which the command to wear tefillin (phylacteries) arose. Tefillin are small black leather boxes containing verses from the Torah on parchment that Jewish men bind with leather straps to their foreheads and hands. (Women may “lay” tefillin too, but were exempted from the commandment due to the demands of their maternal duties.)
The express command in Exodus 13:9 is to celebrate Passover; the implied command is to put on tefillin. The purpose of tefillin is to be a sign and reminder of the deliverance of God’s people from Egypt. The process of binding tefillin to the hand and the forehead is intended to remind the wearer that he is bound to the Lord in mind, action and speech - God’s Word “is to be on your lips”.
"Through centuries of shaking, the tangible reminders of God’s goodness in the Passover and tefillin have bound the Jewish people to each other and to their God."
So, celebrating Passover and putting on tefillin have become tangible signs of God’s goodness setting apart the Jewish people. In Exodus 13:16 the command is repeated: “And it will be like a sign on your hand and a symbol on your forehead that the Lord brought us out of Egypt with his mighty hand.” The Greek translation of the Old Testament (Septuagint) uses the word “unshakeable” (ἀσάλευτον) here to describe this memorial sign.
Through centuries of shaking, the tangible reminders of God’s goodness in the Passover and tefillin have bound the Jewish people to each other and to their God. Passover is about flooding the memory, binding the mind to the eternal. In evoking the past, meaning is restored to the present and hope assured for the future.
Repetition is the key to remembering and so Passover is repeated year after year by generation after generation.
The importance of linking the generations is demonstrated by the number of genealogies in the Bible. It was Jewish descent, rather than assent to a set of truths, that marked out God’s people before Messiah. Physical and spiritual heritage were intertwined. Names were remembered because of the important of physical heritage. It was vital to ensure that the inheritance of each tribe was not lost (see Zelophehad’s daughters in Numbers 27).
Remembering the names of your ancestors was therefore crucial for creating an unbreakable chain of memory and history to pass on so that the word of God was not forgotten.
To have your name blotted out was a terrible punishment. “May they be blotted out of the book of life and not be listed with the righteous” is the curse in Psalm 69:28. Revelation 3:5 says: “The one who is victorious will, like them, be dressed in white. I will never blot out the name of that person from the book of life, but will acknowledge that name before my Father and his angels.” So, all believers have memorial inscriptions: both Jew and Gentile.
Gentiles have always been part of the story of God’s people. Exodus 12:38 says about the flight from Egypt that, “Many other people went up with them”. Presumably Egyptians, possibly native slaves seizing the opportunity for freedom, clung to the Israelites, as Ruth the Moabite woman would later do, saying, “Your God is my God” (Ruth 1:16). So, Gentiles too have spiritual ancestors from the Exodus, the “Many other people” who left Egypt with the Hebrews.
Since Messiah came, Gentiles may join Israel by faith. They are included in God’s family by assent not descent, by faith rather than physical ancestry. Gentiles have a claim on the family inheritance because they have joined the family of God’s people and may share in its rich heritage: “…you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household” (Eph 2:19).
"The call of Passover is to all people everywhere: join the Exodus, leave the Egypt of sin and death...be joined to God’s people"
So the call of Passover is to all people everywhere: join the Exodus, leave the Egypt of sin and death that is human life as we know it, be joined to God’s people, the “one new humanity” (Eph 2:15) of Jew and Gentile through faith in Messiah, so that you may know and be known by one Father, the God of Israel, who is ruler of all.
Celebrating Passover is powerfully resonant for Gentile believers: it adds richness and depth to a faith that is often abstract, referencing Bible history but as observers without ownership. Passover roots and grounds us in the history and memory of a real family, God’s family.
For some Jewish people, seeing Jesus in the Passover has revealed the true meaning of the redemption narrative. A non-believing Jewish friend realised during a Passover seder5 explaining its messianic significance that, “Jesus is one of us, he’s Jewish!” She is now a believer in Jesus as Messiah.
However, are Gentile believers neglecting this rich heritage? In our churches and homes, are we building on this powerful mnemonic which binds us to each other and our God? Are our homes places where precious memories are formed or, in our busy and fractured family lives, do we leave that to the minister and the Sunday School teacher?
"Celebrating Passover is powerfully resonant for Gentile believers: it adds richness and depth to a faith that is often abstract, rooting and grounding us in the history and memory of a real family, God’s family."
Perhaps the neglect of study, worship and biblical celebration in our homes is the root of our spiritual impoverishment and a cause of our fragmentation and rootlessness as families, churches and communities. In Britain, we have lost much of our rich Christian heritage, but we have a chance to recover a deeper, more resonant heritage from our ancient spiritual ancestors. This is what the LORD says: “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.’” (Jer 6:16)
Our shared biblical history is not just an abstract set of salvation concepts but a fixed reality that was lived, and is lived, in each generation. Do we count ourselves as having been there? This powerful, grand narrative of the Exodus should be the bedrock of our Christian experience, undergirding the transforming gospel message of freedom and new life. Instead, many churches are we offering a tepid, watered-‑down, people-pleasing faith.
What is the sign in our lives that we belong to the Lord? It should be the word of God on our lips, the Passover message of deliverance and new life written on every page of our lives. We are “living letters” (2 Cor 3:3), signs to the world around us, foreigners and exiles (1 Pet 2:11-13), who are “in the world but not of it” (Jn 17:14,16).
Just as the Jewish people have always been God’s signpost to the world by their very continued existence, and have suffered and been rejected for it, so believers in Messiah Yeshua, joined to Israel (Eph 2:11-18), should aim to write the truths of the gospel with the largest letters we can, just as Paul wrote in his large hand to impress on the Galatians (Gal 6:11) that the inscription required by God was no longer circumcision, but the marks of the work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts, written in our lives in word and action.
"We are not required to circumcise or put on tefillin, but to bind the Lord’s commands to our minds and actions by the daily “putting on” of Messiah"
We are not required to circumcise or put on tefillin, but to bind the Lord’s commands to our minds and actions by the daily “putting on” of Messiah: “clothe yourselves with Christ” (Rom 13:14, Gal 3:27, Col 3:12). Is the writing in our lives clear enough so that our faith can be “read” by all and 'strangers' want also to follow us out of Egypt?
As already pointed out, the ancient Greek translation of Ex 13:16 uses the word “unshakeable” to describe the memorial sign that is Passover: “And it will be like a sign on your hand and a symbol on your forehead that the Lord brought us out of Egypt with his mighty hand.” During the shaking that is to come, believers need to cling to that which cannot be shaken.
Jesus is already established in the Passover – in plain sight but hidden. At the beginning of the traditional Passover seder (Hebrew for order) a mysterious custom takes place. Three matzot (pieces of unleavened bread) are placed in a bag with three compartments. The middle piece is broken, half is returned to its compartment and the other half covered in a cloth and hidden to be 'resurrected' later as a children’s hide and find game at the end of the meal where they 'ransom' it for sweets.
The origin of this custom is uncertain. The hidden piece of matzah is called the afikomen, the meaning of which is, 'he who comes' or 'the one who has arrived'. When the children find it they 'ransom' it in exchange for a prize. So, there is a trinity of unleavened bread (lack of yeast symbolising purity), the second piece of which is broken, then buried or hidden in a cloth, then ransomed and eaten by all, while those who find this treasure receive a prize.
Jesus' body was broken, he was buried, wrapped in cloth, and later brought back or resurrected. His sacrifice may be partaken of by all. His death is the ransom for sinners. He is the “pearl of great price” (Matt 13:45-6), a priceless treasure and the prize of salvation (Philippians 3:14), available to all who choose to partake (Jn 1:12). It is thought that the afikomen is the piece of matzah that Jesus broke and offered to his disciples when he said, "This is my body, broken for you" (Mk 14:22).
"At Passover, whether Jew or Gentile, we are invited to journey afresh with Messiah, whose body was broken for us and whose blood was shed as our Passover Lamb (1 Cor 5:7)."
One Passover custom among Sephardi Jews is for the leader of the Passover seder to leave the room and return with the afikomen in a knapsack over his shoulder, carrying a walking stick and wearing a tightened belt.
The children ask, "Where are you coming from?"
The seder leader replies, "From Egypt."
Then the children ask, "Where are you going?"
The answer: "To Jerusalem."
When we turn to God we embark on a journey from Egypt, the old life of sin, to Jerusalem, our redemption in Messiah. As we journey we may limp, hence the walking stick, as some of our sinful ways still linger, hindering us. We have to deny the self, tightening our belts, so to speak. Yet the only burden we need to carry is that of Messiah, represented by the afikomen in this story. "Take my yoke upon you," says Jesus, "for my yoke is easy and my burden is light" (Matt 11:29).
At Passover, whether Jew or Gentile, we are invited to journey afresh with Messiah, whose body was broken for us and whose blood was shed as our Passover Lamb (1 Cor 5:7). Let us no longer neglect our rich inheritance in Messiah. Remembering the past sets us on the right path for the future.
When we know where we have come from, then we know where we are going.
1 The haggadah (in English, telling) is a book of prayers, blessings and story-telling that is recited at the Passover meal.
2 Heschel, A J, 1967. Israel: An Echo of Eternity. New York, p60.
3 Roshkovsky, L. Pesach and the Holocaust, Yad Vashem, The International School for Holocaust Studies.
4 Wieseltier, L. Culture and Collective Memory, New York Times, 15 January 1984.
5 Seder is Hebrew for 'order'. It refers to the service that takes place in the home on the first night of Passover involving a meal and the eating of specific elements relating to the original Passover.