8-9 Elul, 5780

 On Fridays, we give you a double portion of our Elul Thoughts so that we can all take a rest from our electronics on Shabbat. Enjoy!

Rabbi Heidi Cohen

Rabbi Richard Levy, of blessed memory, in his “Songs Ascending: The Book Of Psalms In A New Translation With Textual And Spiritual Commentary” published in 2017 was almost prophetic. Psalm 23, in Rabbi Levy’s translation says, “I shall abide in God's house for long days, long, long days.” What does that house look like today? It is not the Temple in Jerusalem and even now, it is not our sanctuaries. Rabbi Levy challenges us with, “How would we need to renovate our homes to turn them into God's house - a house where we would know always that we were in the presence of God?”

Whether Rabbi Levy knew that the day would come when we would not be able to be in common sanctuaries, he encouraged us to consider how it is that our homes can be and are God’s house. 

How will we prepare our space at home to be a sacred space so that we can engage with and in our High Holy Day liturgy and practice? This year is not going to be like any other year, and we know that while it has been months now, the future is going to look and be different. Different is not bad, it just requires us to recognize that it will take more work on all of our parts to ensure that the High Holy Days are just that, holy. We cannot just walk into a space, sit down and expect someone else to do it for us, we are in this together, and together, we are building God’s house wherever it is we are.

Rabbi Nancy Rita Myers

The blast of the ram’s horn: Sounds of sadness and hope

How do you feel when you hear the shofar sounded at Rosh Hashanah?  One one hand, it is joyously primal.  Seeing a man or woman standing in front of a crowded sanctuary, blowing the ram’s horn, feels exciting.  However, when its screech pierces the sanctuary, everyone falls silent.  

The New Year is a celebration of new beginnings, it is also very solemn.  The Talmud describes that the sounding of the shofar mimics the sounds of crying.  Debating whether the Teruah is a whimpering or Teruah is a moaning sound, our ancient text imbues a seriousness to these blasts.  We know that Rosh Hashanah is a time of judgement on the past year, and we are called to account for our acts, words, and the choices we have made.  Some of our decisions were good ones but others maybe not.  And even if we have done everything to the best of our ability, there can still be hardships, challenges, and sadness.  

Have you experienced loss this past year?  Did your bodies show signs of age or illness?  Did loved ones disappoint you?  Has someone you love fallen victim to COVID-19?  None of us gets to escape hard times and even as we hope that these are as fleeting as the sound of the shofar, we still feel the painful echo within us.  

The shofar is never blown in isolation but is meant to be heard.  As Jews, we are never alone.  We are part of a community.  We are part of history. Whether we hear the shofar in joy or in sadness, in our living rooms or elsewhere, may this year be a good one, a better one, and one filled with meaning.