Rosh Hashanah: High Holiday Jews

The Maggid of Dubno was baffled by the phenomenon of Jews who turned up to synagogue only on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. For the rest of the year, the pews are as empty as a pastry shop on Passover. But come the High Holidays, the place is packed to the rafters. Why this annual migration? Why this sudden devotion?

He compared attending shul only on the High Holidays to the following story:

The Merchant and the Beggar

There was once a prosperous merchant, Leib, who was doing quite well. His warehouse was brimming with goods, and his accounts were as tidy as a well-organized spice rack. But, as sometimes happens, disaster struck. A fire broke out, and in a matter of hours, Leib's wealth, property, and sense of security were consumed by the flames. And if that wasn't enough to ruin his day, he was also deeply in debt to his main supplier. Now the man was in serious trouble—no warehouse, no inventory, and no way to pay what he owed.

Leib was distraught. How could he repay the debt? How could he rebuild his business from the ashes?

A good friend suggested, “Leib, why not go talk to your supplier? Tell him the truth. Tell him what happened. Maybe he’ll let you pay back it off slowly.”

It seemed like a reasonable idea. So, with a mixture of dread and hope, Leib set off to meet his supplier.

But as he sat in the outer office, the full weight of his situation hit him like a punch to the stomach. Suddenly, his pride—and any shred of dignity—vanished. All he could do was sob. “What have I come to?” he cried. “Begging for favors? What kind of life is this?”

The supplier, hearing the noise from the waiting room, hurried out of his office. When he saw Leib crying, he immediately understood the gravity of the situation. After listening to the full story, the supplier—surprisingly generous—promised Leib new stock on credit and even lent him some money to help get him back on his feet.

With tears of gratitude, Leib thanked him. On his way home, he stopped at a tavern and shared the story of the supplier’s generosity with anyone who would listen.

As fate would have it, a beggar overheard the tale. The beggar, seeing an opportunity, decided to try his luck. He shuffled his way to the supplier’s office, put on his best sad face, and spun a pitiful tale of his own poverty. The supplier listened patiently and, after a moment, gave him a modest donation—nothing more than the usual handout.

"Why so little?" the beggar asked. "I heard you gave that merchant a very generous sum!"

The supplier raised an eyebrow. “You think you’re like that merchant?” he asked, genuinely surprised. “I’ve been doing business with him for years. In fact, much of my wealth is due to our dealings. But you? I’ve never seen you before. Why should I give you more than the usual charity?”