Rosh Hashana is a paradox. In some ways it is celebrated as a joyous day: Festive meals are served amidst large family gatherings, and we extend joyous greetings to one another for a sweet and good New Year. Sin is not even mentioned during the Rosh Hashana prayers, so as not to detract from our positive focus and cloud the joy of the day.

Yet much of Rosh Hashana focuses on the fear of judgment. The Hallel, a prayer of joy and thanksgiving usually recited on holidays, is omitted on Rosh Hashana. As the Talmud puts it, "The Book of Life and Death is opened before Him, and the Jewish people want to sing praises?"

Apparently, the joy of the holiday is subsumed by a fear of judgment. How do the seemingly contradictory emotions of joy and fear co-exist on this holiday?

Before answering this paradox, we must examine a more general question. What is joyful about any occasion? What is the reason for the joy at Jewish life-cycle events? A baby boy is born, and eight days later he is circumcised. The baby howls for a few moments, while the participants joyously wish the parents "Mazal Tov!" Then they sit down to enjoy a beautiful repast. It seems rather cruel that the celebrants rejoice while the baby suffers in pain!

Now consider the child celebrating his Bar Mitzvah 13 years later. The young man is called to read from the Torah, and then his father recites a strange blessing, "Blessed be He Who has relieved me from this one's liabilities." The parents seem to be washing their hands of responsibility from their young adolescent. The poor child seems to be on his own now, yet everyone joyously wishes them "Mazal Tov!" It seems so cold. How can people rejoice at this seemingly frightening situation?

Years later, a young couple stands under the chuppah, ready for marriage. They make a commitment to each other for life, sacrificing the freedoms of single life. It ought to be so daunting, yet everyone rejoices! What is the meaning behind the joy?

The common denominator of the above occasions is the acceptance of responsibility. At each of these events individuals stand at a threshold: A door that opens to a more complex and a richer personal identity.

The circumcision marks a Jewish boy's first step in taking on the yoke of responsibility inherent in the sanctity of being a Jew. The Bar Mitzvah boy accepts personal responsibility for performing the Torah's commandments. He has reached a new stage in life, one that offers more possibilities, deeper satisfactions, greater obligations, and, also, potential pitfalls. At the chuppah, the bride and groom accept responsibility for their new status, for the new entity they have become, and to the new family they hope to raise. Jews celebrate accepting responsibility.

The human being was not created merely to maintain himself; he was created for a higher purpose. Only when he feels that he is working towards a higher goal can he achieve inner satisfaction. True joy comes from taking on the responsibilities each person has been called upon by God.

That is the meaning behind the paradox of Rosh Hashana. It is the day God recounts every good deed and every shortcoming, the day we are judged for all of our actions. We are reminded that each of us is responsible for our actions. We may be fearful of the possible outcome of the judgment, as we should be, if we take it seriously. However, by the same token, the acceptance of this responsibility brings great joy. We realize that there is meaning to our lives, and this knowledge is a source of joy. The joy of Rosh Hashana lies in the recognition of man's potential and the constant striving to fulfill higher goals.