The High Holydays have a kind of universal appeal. They talk of life and death, of guilt and well-being, of responsibilities and obligations.

They speak to the very core of our humanness and maybe that is why they are observed by so many Jews who find the particularity of the other holidays difficult to understand.

No one can deny that more Jews attend worship services on the High Holydays than do on all the other Holydays combined.

But nevertheless, it is in our being different, in our particularity that our strength lies. We are different – our faith bids us to think about things differently than other faiths, to behave differently than other communities; to act differently than other people.

In spite of our railings against our faith’s demands; in spite of our desire to really want to do anything we wish to without feeling confined or regulated by law, our faith tells us that life is best lived within the regulatory tradition of Halacha.

There is very little that defines most Jews from our neighbors except for the fact that we call ourselves Jews and we do not observe Christmas and Easter (though we take our vacations at such times).

So though we know that outside there are some crazies, the thought that they might attack us as we live in our enclaves is not too frightening. After all, most of us would like to think that we blend into the woodwork.

Every once in a while however, something happens. Synagogues are defaced and torched. Jews who distinguish themselves by their regular habits of prayer, of dress, of gathering, suddenly become objects of attack. We find ourselves singled out as candidates for destruction, whether here or in other Western democracies, such as France and England.

There is something courageous in saying, “I am an Ivri (Hebrew) and Hashem, the G-d of the Heavens, do I fear” (Jonah 1:9). It is precisely those Jews who are willing to identify themselves through their garb, their habits of food, and their rituals of worship who provide the rest of us with a standard by means of which we judge our own levels of observance. They are to be commended. They are to be aided and assisted in living as full a Jewish life as one can in America because in a way, they remind us who we are.

We are seen as different, and in regard to our religious beliefs and practices we are. The Havdalah service at the conclusion of Sabbath and Holydays only reaffirms this uniqueness, a weekly reminder that we best pursue G-d’s will by being different.

But that is a hard road. The High Holydays are a reminder that the road is still there and it is worth travelling on.

Chavie and I want to wish each and every one of you and your families a happy and healthy year.