On the beach, a young man with a three-day beard and a disco shirt that is brought out for special occasions wanders among groups of believers. On the shore, people recite passages from the Talmud. The younger ones, wearing kippahs if they are boys, faithful to their age, have prayed for five minutes and are now having skipping stone competitions. This first monument of our history: the Mediterranean Sea relieves sinners of their burdens. Without adhering to Judaism’s recommendations, many poets have celebrated the therapeutic virtues of the sea on the soul, Chateaubriand being the first.
The time spent wandering among the young who are listening to the Shofar (a ram’s horn that is blown to produce a sound that brings you closer to God) and the grandmothers stumbling on the pebbles allows one to be imbued with that irresistible feeling of respect that makes you instinctively start whispering in a church. Those who slip are caught by others. It is an opportunity to meet people.
There are about 300 people coming in groups of 4 or 5 to listen to the muffled sound of the Shofar. Then, some boys blush in front of girls who smile at them. Everyone must hear this sound before nightfall. And in this half-silent, half-bustling crowd, from the balcony offered by the promenade on the beach with these gathered people, an Israeli woman details the ritual: “The ceremony lasts two days. Today there was prayer at the synagogue. Then the Jews go to the water’s edge. It is very important that this water is not still, like that of a lake for instance, otherwise the sins do not wash away. It is the first day of the new year. It is called Rosh Hashanah. In a week, it will be Yom Kippur, where everyone will be judged for the sins they committed this year, and will have to bear in the coming year the penalties that God will assign according to each person’s transgressions.”
