Crown the King, Don’t Confess: The Work of the New Year
Opening The Shulchan Arukh, the Code of Jewish Law, states it plainly: “Some are careful not to eat nuts on the New Year, because the Hebrew word for ‘nut’ has the same numerical value as the word for ‘sin.’” That is the law. But stop for a moment. What does this really mean? If this day comes to stir us to return to Hashem, to take stock, to look hard at the wrongs of the past year, why would we push away the very thing that reminds us of sin? Shouldn’t we stay right there with it, to think, to wake up? The question is sharper than it looks. And our whole understanding of what this day asks of us depends on it. The Parable That Reveals Everything Picture this. You have been invited to the crowning of a king. The great hall is full of light. The ministers stand in their finest robes. The whole crowd is on its feet. The music begins. At that very moment, you walk up to the king and say, “Your Majesty, do you remember a few years ago, when I betrayed you? I wanted to go back and talk about that...” There is no word for this. It is not just out of place. It turns the whole day upside down. On the day of his crowning, the king does not want to hear a confession. He wants to hear one cry and one cry only: “Long live the king!” Loyalty. Presence. A whole heart turning to him with joy. The Lesson: Our Work on the New Year The New Year is the day we crown the King of all kings, Hashem. Our Sages say it outright: “Hashem said: Say before Me verses of Kingship, so that you will crown Me as King over you.” This is the work. Not taking stock of yourself, not private confession, not dwelling on your faults and failures. The work is crowning Him. It is joining the great choir of all creation and calling out loud: “Hashem will reign forever and ever.” It is no accident that the order of the prayers itself shows this. The prayers of Kingship come before the prayers of Remembrance and the prayers of the ram’s horn. First of all, we recognize the King. Everything else comes after. Now the custom of the nut takes on a completely new meaning. It is not a superstition, and it is not a good-luck charm. It is a basic instruction about the work of this day. Do not bring even a hint, even a shadow of a thought, even the smallest spark of dealing with sin, on this day. Not because sin doesn’t matter. But because on the day of a crowning, turning your mind to sin is itself the biggest distraction from the one task this day asks of you: crowning the King. A Teaching of the Baal Shem Tov Here a deep point enters. It comes from the foundations of the teaching of the Baal Shem Tov, founder of the Hasidic movement, as Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi brings it in the Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought. We must guard ourselves against heavy sadness, even sadness that comes from our sins, because it completely blocks us from serving Hashem. And this warning matters most of all on the New Year. Think about it. A Jew who has awe of Hashem and an honest heart comes to the Day of Judgment. How natural it is for him to feel: “Now is the time to take stock. Now I should weep over my sins...” But that very feeling, however pure its source, if it pulls you toward yourself, toward smallness, toward the “I” and what it did wrong, is the exact opposite of setting the self aside and of joy. And those two are the vessels for crowning the King with a whole heart. On the Day of Judgment, Nehemiah, the leader who rebuilt Jerusalem’s walls, told the people: “Do not mourn and do not weep... for the joy of Hashem is your strength.” Not because everything is fine. But because this is not the time. Now is the time for the joy of accepting His rule, for setting the self aside before the greatness of the King.
Putting It into Practice
Your private reckoning will come. The Day of Atonement follows the New Year, and that will be the great hour for confession. But the New Year is not “a small Day of Atonement.” It is a completely different day. It is the day of crowning the King. So when you sit on the night of the New Year, when you stand in prayer, when you blow the ram’s horn or listen to it, don’t pull yourself backward. Don’t start going over the past year now. Let yourself be there, all of you, before the King. Crown Him. Declare your loyalty. This is the New Year’s way of returning to Hashem: not private confession, but giving the kingship back to its Maker. Because on the day of a crowning, “Long live the king!” That is everything.
Questions and answers
Q: Why do some people avoid eating nuts on Rosh Hashanah?
Rabbi Landau answers: The Shulchan Arukh, the Code of Jewish Law, states it plainly: “Some are careful not to eat nuts on the New Year, because the Hebrew word for ‘nut’ has the same numerical value as the word for ‘sin.’” That is the law. But stop for a moment. What does this really mean? If this day comes to stir us to return to Hashem, to take stock, to look hard at the wrongs of the past year, why would we push away the very thing that reminds us of sin? Shouldn’t we stay right there with it, to think, to wake up? The question is sharper than it looks. And our whole understanding of what this day asks of us depends on it.
Q: What does the parable of confessing your betrayal at a king’s coronation teach about Rosh Hashanah?
Rabbi Landau answers: Picture this. You have been invited to the crowning of a king. The great hall is full of light. The ministers stand in their finest robes. The whole crowd is on its feet. The music begins. At that very moment, you walk up to the king and say, “Your Majesty, do you remember a few years ago, when I betrayed you? I wanted to go back and talk about that...” There is no word for this. It is not just out of place. It turns the whole day upside down. On the day of his crowning, the king does not want to hear a confession. He wants to hear one cry and one cry only: “Long live the king!” Loyalty. Presence. A whole heart turning to him with joy.
Q: What is our main work on Rosh Hashanah, according to the Sages’ teaching about verses of Kingship?
Rabbi Landau answers: The New Year is the day we crown the King of all kings, Hashem. Our Sages say it outright: “Hashem said: Say before Me verses of Kingship, so that you will crown Me as King over you.” This is the work. Not taking stock of yourself, not private confession, not dwelling on your faults and failures. The work is crowning Him. It is joining the great choir of all creation and calling out loud: “Hashem will reign forever and ever.” It is no accident that the order of the prayers itself shows this. The prayers of Kingship come before the prayers of Remembrance and the prayers of the ram’s horn. First of all, we recognize the King. Everything else comes after.
Q: What teaching of the Baal Shem Tov, brought in the Tanya, explains why we should not dwell on sins on Rosh Hashanah?
Rabbi Landau answers: Here a deep point enters. It comes from the foundations of the teaching of the Baal Shem Tov, founder of the Hasidic movement, as Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi brings it in the Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought. We must guard ourselves against heavy sadness, even sadness that comes from our sins, because it completely blocks us from serving Hashem. And this warning matters most of all on the New Year. Think about it. A Jew who has awe of Hashem and an honest heart comes to the Day of Judgment. How natural it is for him to feel: “Now is the time to take stock.
Q: If Rosh Hashanah is not a day for confession, when does the private reckoning come?
Rabbi Landau answers: Your private reckoning will come. The Day of Atonement follows the New Year, and that will be the great hour for confession. But the New Year is not “a small Day of Atonement.” It is a completely different day. It is the day of crowning the King. So when you sit on the night of the New Year, when you stand in prayer, when you blow the ram’s horn or listen to it, don’t pull yourself backward. Don’t start going over the past year now. Let yourself be there, all of you, before the King. Crown Him. Declare your loyalty. This is the New Year’s way of returning to Hashem: not private confession, but giving the kingship back to its Maker.