Tossing bread into the ocean on the Jewish New – Latest News
On Sunday, a whole bunch of Jews in LA will stroll to the seashore.
There, they’ll throw handfuls of bread crumbs into the water, symbolically casting all the sins of the previous 12 months upon the tides.
It’s a custom referred to as Tashlich, and it’s one of the more pleasant rituals of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.
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On Sunday, a whole bunch of Jews in LA will stroll to the seashore. Los Angeles Times by way of Getty Images
Not everybody goes to the ocean — any physique of “living waters” will do.
That means something with a natural move by it may be used for Tashlich. A river, a spring, a lake — all qualify. (A swimming pool doesn’t.)
Water is a image of life, and purification, in the Jewish custom. Many Jewish rituals contain immersion in water — which is, in flip, the source of the Christian sacrament of baptism.
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But at Tashlich, we don’t immerse our our bodies. We let go of the previous.
I’ve fond recollections of a few years of strolling to the seashore in entrance of Gladstone’s restaurant in Pacific Palisades, pre-fire, with Ziploc luggage full of bread, and a growing brood of kids in tow.
There, bemused, bikini-clad beachgoers would watch us as we gathered in our most interesting garments close to the water’s edge, or climbed the rocks on the breakwater, reciting prayers and psalms earlier than chucking our crumbs into the sea.
People participate in a Tashlich ceremony on the first day of Rosh Hashanah on Wednesday, Sept. 8, 2021, at Venice Beach in Venice, California. Los Angeles Times by way of Getty Images
Hundreds of people would make their method to the sand, over the course of the afternoon, usually accompanied by a rabbi or cantor carrying a shofar — the horn of a ram or kudu, which is sounded at the New Year as a call to the trustworthy to repent. (The Hebrew root of the phrase “shofar” is the similar as the root of the phrase for “self-improvement.”)
The kids beloved Tashlich. The older ones beloved to compete with one another to see who might throw their bits of bread farthest.
The naughtier ones, forgetting the objective of the entire train, beloved to check their goal on a seagull or two.
The little ones usually took a number of tries earlier than throwing a piece that really reached the water.
And as soon as in a whereas, the call of the shofar — shiny and sharp from the ram’s horn, low and mellow from the kudu — would rise above the sound of the waves.
In the years earlier than my household and I moved to Palisades, we used to stroll the size of the Santa Monica Pier, tossing bread alongside the bemused fishermen.
People participate in a Tashlich ceremony on the first day of Rosh Hashanah on Venice Beach on Wednesday, Sept. 8, 2021, in Venice, CA. Los Angeles Times by way of Getty Images
One 12 months, a seal entertained my daughter by nibbling at our discarded crusts of bread as they floated on the waves.
Each 12 months in Palisades, we’d meet associates at Tashlich from completely different congregations. Palisades has two — one Orthodox synagogue affiliated with the Chabad motion, and one Reconstructionist congregation, on the liberal facet of issues.
There’s an outdated joke about a Jew rescued from a desert island, who had constructed two synagogues. “That one, I pray in; that one, I refuse to enter.”
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But at Tashlich, all of the boundaries appeared to break down.
Why do I write in the previous tense? There will nonetheless be providers in Palisades this 12 months. The rabbis are decided to revive their communities.
Sadly, many of us are nonetheless far-off. We have but to return home.
People participate in a Tashlich ceremony on the first day of Rosh Hashanah on Wednesday, Sept. 8, 2021, on Venice Beach in Venice, California. Los Angeles Times by way of Getty Images
I divide my time between LA and Washington, DC. Our home will not be but repaired. Our neighborhood remains to be in ruins.
This weekend, I’ll stroll with my household to Rock Creek — a humble stream that runs by the nation’s capital metropolis earlier than becoming a member of the mighty Potomac.
The creek is gorgeous, in its own manner — closely forested, with an occasional bridge spanning the banks.
But it’s polluted: You can toss your bread in the water, however you dare not swim there.
Every time I go to Rock Creek, I believe back to Palisades and the hidden waters of Temescal Canyon. There, the creek flows over waterfalls, clean and crisp.
The fire, and the mudslides that adopted, destroyed the acquainted trails alongside the canyon, and buried the secret rock swimming pools we used to go to.
It will likely be years earlier than a new path is constructed, and the rock swimming pools are gone endlessly, no less than as we knew them.
I remind myself that I’ve to let go of that. Rebuilding can by no means restore issues precisely as they have been.
Some issues are misplaced. And some issues — new issues, maybe higher issues — will take their place.
I look ahead to coming back — to the acquainted ritual of Tashlich on the seashore, to the glittering gentle of the afternoon solar on the Pacific, fading ever so barely as summer time turns to autumn.
And I’ll assume of everybody I do know in Palisades — those that have left, those that have come back — and want everybody a candy, completely happy New Year.
Joel Pollak is the Opinion editor of the California Post.
