Lessons From A New Year

MyLife Essay Contest

What Blowing the Shofar Can Teach Us About Helping Individuals Who Struggle with Depression

When Dovid¹ – a close friend – became depressed, I didn’t really know how to respond. He was suffering severely, not sleeping well, and generally listless, tired, and disinterested. He rarely ventured out of his house, just lying in bed, brooding. Days would go by without Dovid’s family seeing him at all. He visited therapists and psychiatrists, but none of them seemed to help much.

Most of Dovid’s friends had no idea what to say or do (one friend, out of frustration, asked him why he doesn’t just “snap out of it”), and for the most part, didn’t visit him. He wasn’t really talking to anyone anyway. I stayed away as well, until his wife begged me to visit him. She just wanted him to talk to someone. So I spoke to him now and then, but generally avoided talking about his depression, unsure as I was how he would respond.

Even his wife had no real idea how to help him. As her dear husband retreated further and further into himself, her life seemed to be falling apart. Her family was helping financially and taking care of the kids when they could, but it just wasn’t enough. She stayed up nights crying over hopeful words of Tehillim. She consulted spiritual healers and counselors. She tried to encourage Dovid, telling him to be strong, that the depression would pass. But nothing seemed to make a difference.

That was something I learned over the course of those months. I noticed that many people aren’t really sure how to respond when someone they know is depressed. I certainly didn’t. Online help resources² recommend being a good listener, offering encouragement, and expressing genuine concern. This advice — especially the part about good listening — gave me some direction when I visited Dovid, but I still felt like I was missing something, that I could be doing something more. Then, I stumbled upon insight from a wholly unexpected place — Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year.

Chassidus teaches³ that every year, Gd delivers enough lifeforce and vitalizing energy to last a single year.⁴ On the eve of Rosh Hashanah of the subsequent year, that lifeforce expires, leaving the world hanging on but a sliver of life. Essentially, it is a time when Gd withdraws completely into Himself, becoming entirely isolated from all of His creations and utterly unconcerned with them.⁵ During this period, Gd considers the profoundly elemental question of whether to continue creating the world — and indeed, all of existence — for another year.⁶

While we dare not project human experiences onto Gd’s omnipotence, we are taught to apply to ourselves the Divine phenomena we learn about,⁷ hoping to extract the minutest measure of comprehension of Gd. In this case, it seemed obvious to me that depression is the human experience which most closely resembles the Divine phenomena of Rosh Hashanah: Extreme isolation and complete disinterest, two common symptoms of depression,⁸ closely mirror Gd’s withdrawal from, and lack of concern with, creation. In the most severe cases, a depressed person might consider ending his or her life entirely, heaven forbid, which is not entirely dissimilar to Gd considering whether to continue creating the world and thereby live His purpose for the coming year.⁹

In this state, Chassidus explains, the attribute of Malchus is vacant. Practically that means Gd is not manifesting as the Creator, having completely withdrawn from the world. On Rosh Hashanah it is our implicit mission to “build Malchus”, to inspire Gd to care about His purpose, and desire to create once again.¹⁰

In this light, we can gain a new appreciation of the seriousness of Rosh Hashanah. The Chabad Rebbes were famously solemn on Rosh Hashanah, even more so than on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year. We can assume this wasn’t due to a mortal fear for their own lives, and possibly not even for the world at large. On Rosh Hashanah we are concerned, so to speak, for Gd Himself. In His state of isolation, He needs our help to draw Him out.⁶

How do we draw Gd out of His isolation? How do we influence Him, so to speak, to take an interest in creation, to “build Malchus”?

We draw Gd out through the process of blowing the Shofar. The simple blast of the Shofar represents an uncontrollable cry from the depths of our heart. Gd’s seeming isolation from us is so existentially painful, we can’t help but to cry out from the core of our soul. It’s not about accomplishing any specific goal. There’s no agenda, just a pure, unadulterated expression that stems from the unbreakable relationship we share with Gd.

We then recite the verses of Malchiot (Sovereignty),¹¹ to remind Gd of His original intent and desire to create the world. We plead with Him through the verses of Zichronot(Remembrance) to remember us, that we are still here, and we can’t live without Him. Simply stated, during the process of the Shofar we cry out to Gd from the depths of our heart, “Come back to us, we need you!”

When Gd hears our uncontrollable cry from the heart, when He sees that we care to our very soul, then His heart, so to speak, is awoken as well. Gd is moved to live His purpose, and create the world once again. He remembers his original desire, He remembers the people He loves, and comes back to them.

There are many lessons to be learned from this deeply emotional process, some of which are particularly relevant to helping someone struggling with depression. Following conventional wisdom, we might affirm the individual’s struggle and tell them how much we care about them. These are undoubtedly admirable gestures — feeling loved and cared for can support a despondent individual and lift their spirits. Yet, these gestures don’t attack the depression at its source, instead meeting the individual in their current state, within their dispirited mindset.

The message of Rosh Hashanah presents us with a powerful alternative — make the person feel needed. This goes far beyond supporting the individual and lifting their spirits. This addresses depression at its very essence. Being needed is to be valued. Being needed is to escape one’s own reality and recognize a world outside. Being needed is to have something to live for.

We accomplish this selflessly, with no personal agenda. On the basis of a strong, unbreakable bond, we reveal the vulnerable truth, a sincere cry from the heart, “I need you.”

•     •     •

Thank Gd, after intervention and months of treatment, Dovid is doing extremely well. He is in good spirits, as insightful and funny as ever. He does falter once in a while, but he seems to emerge from the darkness more quickly and easily.

Recently, I shared with Dovid my thoughts on how Rosh Hashanah teaches us to deal with depression, asking him how it compared to his own experience. He was silent for a few moments, then confided, “When I was at my lowest point and I felt like I couldn’t go on any longer, my wife broke down and cried. ‘Don’t go anywhere, I need you here.’ That simple plea shook me to my core. It gave me a reason to live.”

Footnotes and Sources