“At a time when we are all wishing each other a Happy New Year we may well pause to consider what we mean by happiness and what we shall do to attain it. There is one thing that holds true of all of us: there is nothing that we think so much about, care so much for, aim so much at, as somehow to be happy. Yet happiness remains one of the most elusive objects in the world, and even when we stop chasing it long enough to think about it, we find ourselves confused as to what we mean by being happy, anyway.”
“Let us talk friendly with ourselves as we face the New Year,” continues Rabbi Samuel Cass, spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Israel from 1933 to 1941, writing in the Jewish Western Bulletin’s Sept. 26, 1935, Rosh Hashanah edition. “What is it that we’re trying to overcome? Why does that call of renewal of vitality come as a refreshing sound to our ears?”
Cass contends that “many of us” in that day and age were in a “state of boredom,” despite the “many avenues of excitement that modern civilization has to offer to us for the enjoyment of our leisure hours.” Hours that “ancient man” – who, “when he did not toil, he slept” – did not have.
“Modern man, thanks to a machine civilization with its labor-saving device, enjoys a greater amount of leisure than man had ever enjoyed before, aside from the enforced leisure of unemployment. Yet our leisure hours are the most boring we enjoy. Just an endless round of movies, cards, games.”
Cass goes on to recount a display at the World’s Fair a couple of summers earlier: “the electric marvel of our age, Captain Televox, the mechanical man. This electrical mechanism, when addressed in the proper pitch, gives correct information, and executes various commands. It can start a vacuum cleaner, turn on the electric lights, sets the radio at the proper station.”
The engineer who created “Mr. Televox” predicted “the day when housewives will be able to be away from the house all day and manage the household duties in absentia, by merely calling up the mechanical man and giving it orders.”
Cass laments that life in the 1930s was “reduced to a mechanical existence” with alarm clocks, radios, cars – even newspapers! “Our music comes from the radio, our dramatic entertainment from the motion picture, our philosophy from newspapers,” he writes.
His solution for happiness?
“Find an ideal somewhere and let it life [sic] you above the mechanics of living, let it give you true freedom and stir within you new fountains of personality. We need not seek very far for it. We are living in a world teething with problems, teething with causes that demand to be taken up!”
He asks readers to “embrace some great human ideal in the New Year, and in it experience the blessedness of a Happy New Year.”
This Rosh Hashanah message – and most of those throughout the JWB/Jewish Independent’s 95-year history – hold up remarkably to the test of time. The language differs, of course, but the problems are variants on sadly consistent themes: war, economics, technology, assimilation, antisemitism, etc. And the “solutions” are also relatively consistent over the years: the need for Jewish education, a renewed embrace of Judaism’s ideals, unity, engagement, financial and physical support of community institutions, self-reflection. This year’s missive contains some of these same ideas.
In addition to holiday-related articles and editorials, Rosh Hashanah papers over the years have featured local and Israel year roundups, games and puzzles for kids, crosswords, recipes, reflective pieces, and more. The front covers generally gave some indication that the New Year’s issue would be special in some way – another tradition we continue to uphold.
