The strength of a G-d-given edict

One would think that considering all the praying we are about to do over Rosh Hashanah and then Shabbat, someone might remember to ask G-d for a very slight amendment to the whole three days in a row thing.

Maybe He could consider granting us like 20 minutes between Rosh Hashanah and Shabbat for “odds and ends”. Or “miscellaneous” things. I know that my wife would use the opportunity to call the boys in Israel to check in with them. My daughter would wash her hair and, of course, check her phone. I would certainly catch up on the news, after which I would pop over to Twitter (now X) to see how many people I could annoy in record time.

Of course, this is all theory because although there are around 16 million Jews in the world, not one of them is going to remember to ask for this. And so we will, as we have done before, spend three consecutive days in isolation.

Which might not be a bad thing. It always amazed me when our children were young, and we took them to a shop, how relentless their nagging was if they wanted something like a balloon. In contrast, if they asked for a treat and we explained that it that was not kosher, the begging would stop, and the conversation would end. Somehow it was easier to accept a G-d-given edict than a parental one. One was negotiable. The other was not.

Last week, in desperation, we took some time to go to Mauritius. Ahead of the trip I made the decision to limit my phone time. I knew it was what I needed. I knew it was what we needed as a couple and that if I didn’t do it, I would not achieve the benefit of the week away.

I needn’t have bothered. I didn’t limit my phone usage, I tweeted the hell out of the island, got myself into all sorts of bother, and only had a break when, finally, the sun set on Friday afternoon and Shabbat began. Because the best of intentions stood not a chance when they were self-imposed.

I might be weaker than others. But I doubt it.

Which is probably why three consecutive days of chag and Shabbat might not be the worst thing in the world. It doesn’t mean it will be easy. And it doesn’t mean that by the end of the third day I won’t be a wreck. But it also might be the element of the Mauritius holiday that I had denied myself. It might be the non-kosher sweet at the supermarket and not the balloon. It might be that we haven’t forgotten to ask G-d for the amendment, it’s just that we know we don’t need it. Even if we want it.

We have all had a hard year. Unspeakably difficult in many respects. Perhaps being cocooned for three days is G-d’s way of gifting us the extra time. His way of recognising that this year we could do with the extra care. So that when we emerge, we will be slightly more healed, slightly more rested, and ready to begin the year afresh.

I wish us all a year of healing. I wish our hostages are brought home. I wish our soldiers safety, and the families of those lost, comfort. I wish us sweetness, love and fulfilment. I wish us a Shana tova umetuka.

• Howard Feldman writes a regular column for the SA Jewish Report and hosts the Morning Mayhem show on Chai FM.