Back to our Future

This article originally appeared in The Jewish Journal of Greater Boston.

I don’t think that the creators of Back to the Future meant to explore ideas of Jewish sacred time, but they did a surprisingly good job of doing so.

Part of the movie’s genius is in how the events experienced by Marty, our protagonist, keep rhyming with each other. As he drives his time-traveling DeLorean across the history of his town, we revisit the same landmarks in each era, yet their meaning shifts. In 1985, Marty learns that the clocktower in the center of town was damaged after being struck by lightning at 10:04 PM on November 12, 1955 – and that very bolt will power Marty’s trip home from his visit to the past.

The High Holidays offer us their own form of time travel, drawing aspects of our past, present and future selves into the same sacred moment.

Torah calls our festivals mo’adim, appointed times set aside from ordinary days (Leviticus 23). From a mystical perspective, the holidays aren’t simply anniversaries – they’re recurring appointments with spiritual potential.

The High Holidays and Back to the Future share a theme of return without repetition. Marty’s town remembers the evening that lightning struck their clock as history. For Marty, that moment becomes lived experience, providing the 1.21 gigawatts that carry him home.

Rosh Hashanah has its own language for an experience of sacred time: zichronot, remembrances. Here, remembering is more than recollection – it’s assessing who we’ve become since last we stood before the Gates of the New Year. We gather our past choices, present situations and future possibilities into a single moment of awareness that transcends time.

In the movie, Marty comes to see the way that his choices – and those of his parents – ripple through everyone around them. The New Year is a time for a similar kind of introspection. What choices might we reassess? What relationships do we still need to repair? What have we left unfinished?

This understanding of zichronot allows the High Holidays to become deeply personal. At the end of the movie, Marty catches a quick glimpse of his earlier self racing past in the DeLorean, about to begin his adventure. There’s no way for him to connect with himself. In contrast, zichronot grants us something that Marty never gets: an invitation to speak with ourselves across time.

I once had a spiritual director who encouraged me to imagine that I could bring different parts of myself into a conversation. What might the 5-year-old me have to say to the fifty-year-old me in the present? Or what questions might I learn from myself in the far future, so that I could grow into my best self?

I reflect on that invitation as Rosh Hashanah draws close. I like to think of the Days of Awe as a meeting room in time where our past, present and future selves might gather in the same appointed moment. The idea isn’t for us to hold tight to who we have been – it’s to sit with our other selves as we discern who we are becoming, from the opening notes of Rosh Hashanah eve right until the Gates close at Ne’ilah.

As our Rosh Hashanah prayers begin, I envision myself no longer standing solely in the present. I am the child who sat with my parents in services, first sensing the power of this day. I am the young man taking first steps out into the world. I am the rabbi standing before my congregation, trying to pass on the love of our traditions to the next generation. Each is a part of me as I welcome the holidays each New Year.

That is why Back to the Future works so well for me as a metaphor for the Days of Awe, and Rosh Hashanah in particular. Marty is not trying to get rich or gain power; he’s just trying to get home to 1985. Yet, he accumulates some wisdom through his adventures. By encountering his town and its citizens in different ages, Marty begins to understand them, and himself, more fully. Our mo’adim call us to do something similar.

This year, as the High Holidays approach, imagine entering that meeting room in time and welcoming your other selves. Sit across from the younger you who first felt the power of the Jewish holidays, while you also greet the person you are still becoming. Ask each of them what they have to teach you as you enter the New Year together.

The room may be familiar and the Gates are opening. Let us enter this holy time honestly enough to hear from the self we have been and bravely enough to grow into the self that we are striving to become. L’shanah tovah, may this new year be one of blessings!