Edited and adapted from Ari’s Grill & Torah on Erev Rosh Hashanah, ”Ari Fuld on Rosh Hashana – Sept 2017.”

Before Rosh Hashanah, Yom HaDin, the Day of Judgment—I want to share some ideas people rarely consider.

Question: Where is Rosh Hashanah mentioned in the Torah?

Answer: It isn’t.

The Torah never uses the name “Rosh Hashanah.” The day is called Yom Teruah—a day of sounding a horn—or Zichron Teruah—a remembrance through the sounding. There’s no mention of judgment, no “books of life and death.” And it never calls it the “new year.” In fact, the Torah states that Nissan, the month of Pesach, is the first of the months (Shemot 12:2).

So where does the name Rosh Hashanah come from? And how did it become Judgment Day?

Adam, Chava, and the First of Tishrei

According to Jewish tradition, there’s a debate whether the world was created in Nissan or Tishrei. What’s agreed is that man, Adam, was created on the 1st of Tishrei. That was the beginning of human history, the start of the relationship between man and God.

But it was also the day that relationship broke.

Adam and Chava were created, and on that same day, they sinned.

The Gemara suggests the fruit they ate was a fig, a date or etrog – not an apple. But the fruit isn’t the point, the relationship is.

Chava ate, gave it to Adam, and then God entered the garden. The Torah says He “rustled the leaves.” God didn’t need to make noise, but did, to give them a chance. Then He said one of the most important words in the entire Torah:

“Ayeka?” (Breishit 3:9)
Where are you?

Not physically, but spiritually.

Adam answered: “The woman You gave me, she gave me to eat.”
Chava answered: “It was the snake.”

Nobody took responsibility. And the relationship broke.

Ayeka and Rosh Hashanah

God gave them one command, one chance to choose the relationship. They failed and blamed others.

This is what Rosh Hashanah is all about.

Every year, God comes into the garden. He rustles the leaves and asks each of us: Ayeka? Where are you?

It’s not a threat, but an opening, a chance to say: “Hineni. I’m here. I messed up. But I want to fix it.”

Which was the worst punishment?

Think about the punishments:

• Adam would eat by the sweat of his brow.
• Chava would endure pain in childbirth.
• The snake would crawl on its belly and eat dust.

Adam and Chava had to struggle, but as a result they had to pray, they had to turn to God. But the snake received everything automatically—no struggle, no relationship required.

That’s not a blessing—it’s the worst curse of all: separation from God.

Adam and Chava were pushed out of Gan Eden not because God wanted distance, but because they didn’t choose closeness. He asked Ayeka to give them a chance to repair. But the snake, a pure inciter with no remorse, was given none.

The lesson is clear: the greatest gift in life is our relationship with God. The greatest punishment is losing it.

Relationships Are a Choice

Relationships aren’t measured by how much you do for yourself, but for the other.

It’s the same with God. If you know what He asks—or what your spouse likes—but ignore it, the relationship weakens. Betrayal stretches it thinner; repair takes double the effort.

That’s what happened in Gan Eden. And that’s what happens every Rosh Hashanah.

The Sound of the Shofar

The shofar is the sound of the leaves rustling again. God knocking, asking: Where are you? Are you still in this relationship? Are you hiding behind excuses? Do you want closeness?

Our task is to answer, not with perfection or arrogance, but with honesty.

“Yes, I’ve failed. Yes, I’ve fallen short. But I’m here. I want to come back. I want to choose You.”

That’s Yom HaDin—not doom, not fear, but clarity. A moment of truth.

To say: “I know who I am. I know what I’ve done. And I still want to be close.”

Hineni – I Am Here

Like the perfect Parent, God waits with open arms. He doesn’t demand perfection—just connection.

So this Rosh Hashanah, when Hashem asks, Ayeka?—answer Him.

Say: “Hineni. I’m here. I’m broken, but I’m here. And I want to come home.”

Shanah Tovah U’Metukah—a sweet, healthy, and meaningful year to all.

And please—don’t forget to support our soldiers.