And hopefully, one with a hopeful ending. I should have known something was amiss by how easy it was to get in. No crowds, no lines, no tickets at will call—no tickets at all, tickets not being necessary. But I didn’t realize just how amiss things were until I arrived at an empty sanctuary. An empty sanctuary in an empty synagogue. On Rosh Hashanah. Though I may not be the best Jew, I know this much: Synagogues ought to be packed on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.