Sir Arthur Conan Doyle hated Sherlock Holmes.

I know: That sounds as improbable as J.K. Rowling hating Harry Potter or Ian Fleming hating James Bond. Indeed, when Britain's The Strand published "A Scandal in Bohemia" in 1981, Holmes' creator found himself rocketed to both fortune and fame. Nonetheless, Conan Doyle saw himself as a serious author and he chafed against the critics who dismissed his detective stories as cheap fiction.

By 1893, the author had had enough. In "The Final Problem," Holmes pursues his arch-villain James Moriarty to the top of a cliff at Switzerland's Reichenbach Falls where, after a struggle, the celebrated sleuth and his nemesis both fall to their deaths.

The public outcry from readers was swift and ferocious. Devoted fans mourned Holmes' demise, the author's mother among them. Some wore black armbands. Newspapers ran obituaries.

For over a decade, the pressure continued unabated. Finally, in 1905, Conan Doyle relented by publishing "The Return of Sherlock Holmes." His primary motivation: money. For 13 stories, Colliers Weekly paid the author an extraordinary $52,000, an estimated 1.6 million in today's dollars.

The resurrection of Sherlock Holmes inspires this week's addition to the Ethical Lexicon:

Redivivus (red*i*vi*vus/ red-uh-VAYH-vuhs) adjective

Living again; revived or resurrected.

The sages of ancient Judea taught that the righteous are called alive, even after they've died; and the wicked are called dead, even while they're alive. Their message is clear: All of us hold the key to our own immortality. No matter how far we've descended into moral confusion, each and every one of us can turn back from oblivion to master eternity.

That is the theme of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. In this season of redemption, the sounding of the ram's horn summons us to take account of ourselves, to ponder whether we are living our lives as we should or merely going through the motions.

Even in the secular calendar we recognize the value of New Year's resolutions. This annual ritual prods us to become spiritual detectives, to search for clues that will uncover the mysteries of our own hearts. How do others see us? How do we want them to see us? How should we want to be seen?

Imagine reading your own obituary in tomorrow's paper. What will others say about you? What have you acquired of real value? What are you leaving behind?

Alfred Nobel didn't have to imagine. One morning in 1888, he opened the paper to read his own premature obituary under the headline, "The Merchant of Death is Dead." The inventor of dynamite shuddered to think he would be remembered only for bringing destruction into the world. Nobel went on to found the institution he envisioned becoming a beacon of enlightenment and peace.

Are we inspired by the stories of our own lives? If not, what can we do right now to change the narrative arc before we reach our story's end?

Despite Conan Doyle's love-hate relationship with his creation, he left a legacy that has inspired countless thousands. The iconic detective teaches us to be keen observers of the world we live in, to pay attention to detail, to reason our way to understanding, to search relentlessly for evidence and to employ every resource available in pursuit of truth.

Rosh Hashanah is not only a Jewish holiday. It commemorates the creation of the world, the nobility of humankind and the establishment of justice as the foundation of civil society. But before we expect justice from others, we need to demand justice from ourselves.

Like Sherlock Holmes redivivus, we need to escape from the clutches of our most villainous inner enemies — bias, arrogance, complacency, superficiality and rationalization. We need to pull back from the edge of the abyss of self-indulgence and begin climbing the mountain of integrity.

With a keen eye, a questioning mind and a sincere heart, even the most morally desensitized among us can undergo a spiritual resurrection and find our way back into the land of the living. Rosh Hashanah reminds us that moral clarity is always within reach and that it is the key to becoming fully human.

See more by Yonason Goldson and features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists; visit the Creators Syndicate webpage at www.creators.com.

COPYRIGHT 2026

CREATORS.COM

Photo credit: Lai Man Nung at Unsplash