But it's a very real fear that pulses through the heart of Jewish tradition, especially during the High Holy Days.
There's this powerful idea, a myth really, that the world isn’t a given. Its existence isn’t guaranteed. According to tradition, the world’s continuously on trial, its fate hanging in the balance.
Think about it. The Talmud, specifically Rosh ha-Shanah 16b, tells us that the very first creation was only meant to last six days. Just six! Can you imagine? But then came Shabbat, the Sabbath. The holiness of Shabbat renewed the world, giving it another six days. And that renewal, that breath of fresh, divine air, has continued every week since.
It makes you look at Shabbat in a whole new light, doesn’t it? It's not just a day of rest; it’s a lifeline for existence itself.
Now, let’s fast forward to Rosh ha-Shanah, the Jewish New Year. We call it the birthday of the world, and there’s good reason for that. According to Sefer Or ha-Hayim and Sefer Netivot ha Shalom every year on Rosh ha-Shanah, God judges all of creation. Not just us humans, but everything. The trees, the stars, the oceans, even the smallest grain of sand. Everything.
The question isn't just about our individual actions, but whether all of creation is fulfilling its secret purpose – a purpose known only to God. It’s a cosmic audit, a divine performance review.
And if God finds that creation is acting against His intent? Well, then there’s no need for it to continue. All of existence could simply… cease.
Heavy stuff, right?
This myth, this story, really emphasizes the fragility of our world. We often take it for granted, assuming it will always be here. But the tradition reminds us that its continuity isn't guaranteed. It's a gift, renewed every Shabbat and every Rosh ha-Shanah.
This changes the whole meaning of Rosh ha-Shanah, doesn't it? It’s not just a day of judgment for people, but for the entire world.
In our modern age, especially with the looming threat of nuclear weapons, or the ongoing dangers of climate change, this ancient myth resonates deeply. We, perhaps more than ever, understand the acute awareness of the fragility of existence that inspired it. We know, in our hearts, that the world’s survival isn’t a given.
So, as we approach Rosh ha-Shanah, maybe we can take a moment to appreciate the incredible gift of existence, and to reflect on our role in ensuring its renewal. To consider how we, individually and collectively, can act in accordance with that secret purpose, so that the story of creation continues. Because, ultimately, the future of the world might just depend on it.