I far prefer driving the treacherous mountain roads crossing the Rockies to the dull hours crossing the flat and boring Great Plain States. That first glance of the mountains ahead is thrilling. The plains are vast, but the mountain peaks are magnificent and inspiring. The mountains begin their call and challenge long before I reach them. They stand so high that I can seem them hours before they can be reached. I want to speed toward them and begin the next stage of the journey.

I have driven across the Rockies before, and I remember the twists and turns of the road, the moments in which the car seems to be facing vertically upward just to point down a few miles later. The views, glanced in risky moments away from the road, are breathtaking. The thin shoulder does not afford much of a safety margin. The mountain roads engage all my faculties.

The difference between driving across Kansas and crossing the Rockies represents a choice between one way of life and another, and always comes to mind as I prepare for the Judgment of Rosh Hashanah: Shall I pray for a year that will offer a smooth and calm drive? I can choose to picture the coming year as free of the undulations of the past, straightforward, and stable. There are definitely moments when I wish to move steadily ahead without concern for unexpected twists and turns, dips and hills.

Yet, when I look into my rearview mirror, I don't see the Great Plains, but a circuitous mountain road, marked by peaks and valleys. I want to see similar peaks ahead; mountains to be climbed, challenges to be mastered, curves to be navigated. I do not want to pray for a year that does not offer peaks higher than any climbed before. I choose to pray for a year that will draw me upward, a year of growth, a year that will challenge all my faculties.

I also measure the past year by counting the peaks mastered, the challenges met, fresh perspectives and new skills. I can recall certain moments that offered magnificent views of life's possibilities. I want more such scenes. I want to look back at the past year's mountains and be sure that the peaks ahead will be even higher. I refuse to simply view the peaks in wonder. They call to me. I refuse to be included amongst Philip Larkin's "Old Fools," of whom he wrote: "The peak that stays in view wherever we go/ For them is rising ground." No, for me the only rising ground is the road that pulls me upward and higher.

I choose the Rockies. I am using Elul to tune my engine, fill the gas tank, and hone my driving skills. I set my sights on new heights. I pray I'll be prepared to receive what I ask. A little risky; but I wouldn't have it any other way.

I could use some copilots. Care to join me?

I wish you all a Shabbat, Elul, and Rosh Hashanah, of looking higher than ever before. Rev your engines; the journey begins.

Rabbi Simcha L. Weinberg
President          
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