Category: Elul (Page 1 of 2)

Returning – Renewing my blog for #BlogElul

August 25, 2014 / gurevitzr

I’ve been away from my personal blog for some time. For those who were following my posts, I’ve been blogging as part of a team for the folk at My Jewish Learning on the ‘Rabbis Without Borders Blog.’ We’ve recently expanded the team, so my posts there will now be monthly instead of twice a month. I share the page with a wonderful set of colleagues who offer a diverse range of voices. I’m hoping that the space created will help me keep my own, personal blog a little more current. Beginning this week, I’ll be starting the seasonal postings that I offer more intensively each year in the lead up to Rosh Hashanah.

The Hebrew month of Elul arrives tomorrow evening. The month that will bring us to the Jewish New Year of 5775. As in past years, it is my intention to participate in #BlogElul and share reflections, if not daily, then at least several times a week. I hope that these reflections will offer some spiritual nourishment and food for thought as we prepare for this deeply introspective time of the year.

As in past years, I will try to align my postings with the daily themes offered by my colleague, Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, who has enabled a broad collection of bloggers to share many unique perspectives on these shared themes, simply by creating the list and enabling us to find others’ postings on twitter and other social media by searching under the tag #BlogElul.

In addition to following these themes, I have another theme internal to my own blog that I wish to explore this year. If you’ve ever struggled with some of the words that are recited in prayer during the High Holy Days, or felt distanced by the images and concepts that they seem to convey, I hope these posts will speak to you. Inspired by new translations and alternative texts and readings that are being compiled in the upcoming (2015) new machzor for the Reform movement, Mishkan haNefesh (Sanctuary of the Soul), I’ll be exploring different ways into this dense and sometimes off-putting High Holy Day liturgy. My congregation, B’nai Shalom, in Westborough MA, participated in several months of piloting services with these new materials earlier in the year and voted to adopt the new prayer books that we hope to have in our hands in time for next year. We’ll be using a supplement of material from the new book during our High Holy Day services and, in fact, during our Friday night Shabbat services throughout the month of Elul and Tishrei.

I look forward to traveling with you, and encourage you to leave your own reflections, interpretations, and responses in the comments of these postings.

Returning on August 19th – Elul begins

August 12, 2012 / gurevitzr

A week from today we arrive at Rosh Chodesh Elul – the beginning of the new Hebrew month of Elul. This is the month that leads up to Rosh Hashanah. The Jewish New Year has a very different flavor to the secular New Year with its party hats, champagne and poppers. The Jewish New Year in an invitation to reflect, turn and return, realigning ourselves with a spiritual center that is our God-given holy spark. When we are paying attention, this is the spark that lights the path and helps us find our way through life, being the highest of what we have the potential to be.

For Rosh Hashanah to be a meaningful holiday, we need to prepare. Elul provides a month of reflective preparation time. In our modern age, there are many tools and guides available to us that enable us to set aside a little time each day for this reflective work of soul preparation. One of my colleagues, Rabbi Phylis Sommer, has again suggested a theme a day for #BlogElul and #Elulgram, and I’ll be participating by blogging here on her listed themes. The ‘#’ tells you that the various bloggers who join her can be easily found on Twitter if you search for #BlogElul – we’ll all be posting links to our blogs that way. If you follow me on Facebook, you’ll also see the Elul postings there. And, of course, you can sign up on the right side of this blog to receive an email in your inbox whenever I’ve posted a new blog piece. An #Elulgram is a photo posted on Twitter, offering a visual interpretation of the day’s theme.

While you may let some of us provide a guide through the month of Elul by reading some of these postings, anyone can contribute. If you have a blog, try writing some of your own reflections. Or, use the comments box on my blog to add your own thoughts on the day’s theme, on the days that I post. I don’t usually manage to post every day of Elul, but about once a week I’ll post my personal selection of the ‘best of’ #BlogElul with links to some of the pieces by others that I have found most thought-provoking in my own preparations for the High Holydays.

#BlogExodus, Nisan 1: From the narrow places I call

March 24, 2012 / gurevitzr

Tonight is Rosh Hodesh Nisan, the beginning of the first month of the year. Yes, I know, its confusing – isn’t Rosh Hashanah – the Jewish New Year that usually falls sometime in September – the start of the year? Well, yes, that is the Jewish New Year, but Rosh Hashanah actually falls on the 1st day of the 7th month. Because Jewish holy days were tied to the seasons long before our people superimposed historical and mythical layers to add to their meaning, it also makes sense that we would arrive at the beginning of the 1st month right after we announced the 1st day of Spring. New life, new buds, new flowers appearing on earth – the sense of a new cycle beginning again.

This month I’m joining Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, along with many others, in #BlogExodus (that’s how you’ll search for others on Twitter who might have posted blogs as part of the project). Together, we’ll cover the days between the 1st and 14th of Nisan, leading up to Pesach.

Today’s theme is the narrow places of Mitzrayim (Egypt). As part of the Hallel (selection of psalms we sing on holidays and as part of the Passover Seder) we find the lines, min hameitzar karati Yah, anani va-merchav Yah. From the narrow places I called out to God; God answered me expansively. (Ps. 118)

The first time I heard and learned the melody to these verses was with Debbie Friedman, z’l, at a Healing service in Westchester. I don’t quite recall, but it may well have been only the second time that I attended one of these services, and it was the month leading up to Pesach. You can hear an excerpt of Debbie singing Min Hameitzar from ‘The Journey Continues’ album here.

I remember back to that time in my life. I was not sick, but I had recently left the UK for a nine month stay at Elat Chayyim the transdenominational Jewish retreat center. I was a bit home-sick, but it was also one of the most important periods of my life, in my mid-20s. Looking back, I see that it was my soul that was aching – I was struggling internally with my sense of who I was and how to live my life. I guess its the kind of angst familiar to many at that stage of life. But it was a kind of spiritual mitzrayim – a narrow strait. Debbie sang that song with a yearning in her voice – perhaps calling out from her own mitzrayim – and i felt some of the restraints that were holding me back start to break apart. It was the beginning of my own journey through the wilderness to my Promised Land.

When I introduce the Mi Shebeirach prayer for healing during a service, I always invite my congregation to think of those in need of healing, ‘whether healing of body or healing of spirit.’ I know that most people’s minds turn immediately to those that they know who are physically ailing. But Debbie taught us that we all need healing of spirit. There is not one of us in this world who is so complete that we have no rough edges, no broken shards, or tender hearts, from some emotional or spiritual aching. Each one of us can identify the mitzrayim that we live in, or have experienced at some time in our lives.

We begin the journey by calling out from that place – the narrow straits. The ability to perceive expansiveness, to see that there is a path forward that can release us from the places we feel stuck in our lives, in our sense of self, in our sense of possibility … the miracle is that the mere act of calling out can create the opening. Just as the Hebrews in slavery had to call out before God heard and responded to their suffering.

Last week, we welcomed approx. 130 women, men and youth at our Women’s Seder, dedicated to Debbie’s memory, and led by the incredibly gifted and soulful Julie Silver. It was a real honor to lead the Seder with Julie, accompanied by Carole Rivel, who accompanied Debbie in so many of the healing services and Women’s Seders that she led for many years. We all carry Debbie in our hearts, and her legacy lives on when we teach in her name, inspired by what she taught us. She will forever remain as one of my greatest teachers.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Blogging Elul 5771: Did you remember to set your alarm clock?

September 27, 2011 / gurevitzr

This piece was published by one of our local weekly newspaper consortiums, Hersam Acorn, and appeared in print this week in the Amity Observer, Bridgeport News, Milford Mirror, and Trumbull Times.

This entry is my closing posting for Elul 5771. I wish you all a Shanah Tovah um’tukah – a Sweet and Happy New Year. May we all experience fully the blessing of life, and offer blessings to others through our words and deeds.

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, which begins on Wednesday, September 28 in the evening, is a very different kind of New Year to January 1^st. ‘The Choosing’ is a recently-published memoir in which a Jew-by-choice and now Rabbi, Andrea Myers, tells the story of the first year her Italian-Catholic family encountered Rosh Hashanah. She was living back at home with her parents and, after a long walk to a synagogue for evening services on the first night of the New Year, she returned home late, quite exhausted. She was awoken at midnight from a deep sleep when her family, wanting so lovingly to help her celebrate, arrived in her bedroom clanging pots and pans, letting off streamers, and shouting ‘Happy New Year!’ The loud sounds more typically heard on Rosh Hashanah are the blasts of the shofar – the ram’s horn, and we usually hear those at the quite respectable time of late morning. The shofar is, however, metaphorically, our communal ‘wake up’ call.

While the secular New Year is a time when many people make ‘New Years’ Resolutions’, the Jewish New Year marks a period of time when we first look back at our deeds from the past year. Our worship liturgy speaks of God who holds us accountable, but the inner work that the New Year requires of us is really about how we hold ourselves accountable and take responsibility for our mistakes, the hurt we have caused others, and the ways we have behaved unethically or thoughtlessly. If we really engage in this spiritual work, we can emerge ten days later, at the end of Yom Kippur – the Day of Atonement – transformed. If we have the courage to speak to those whom we have hurt, and ask forgiveness, we can transform the relationships we have with others.

In the world we live in today, it almost feels deeply unfashionable to talk of a spiritual practice and a faith community that asks us to engage in a personal accountability inventory in this way. There are those who speak in the name of faith, or offer spiritual paths, that emphasize what these things can do for you. What about what we can do for others? Faith is not about wish fulfillment. It is about the meaning and purpose of our very existence as human beings. It is about being fully present to life and to each other in all of the downs as well as the ups. It is about the hard work of doing things together as communities with shared values, recognizing that no one person is more important than another, yet at the same time each and every one of us is necessary and has a unique voice to add as we work together to make things better.

As the Jewish community arrives at Rosh Hashanah, my hope and prayer is that we can learn from the wisdom of our ancient faith traditions, and hear the sound of the shofar as our alarm clock, reminding us of the perils of living in too much of ‘me’ society and not enough of an ‘us’ society. The spiritual work of taking account, repairing what we can, and rededicating ourselves to the future takes courage and strength. May we, by coming together, give each other the courage and strength that we need.

Shanah tovah u’m’tukah – May it be a sweet and good year for all.

Blogging Elul 5771: Lighting the way to peace

September 20, 2011 / gurevitzr

Have you been following the Jewels of Elul this year? Craig Taubman, musician, compiles short daily postings from a wide range of contributors on an annual theme that is woven into the pre-High Holyday month of Elul. This year the theme is ‘light’ and postings have come from authors, politicians, musicians, activists and spiritual leaders from all walks of life, Jewish and non-Jewish.

I always find the Jewels of Elul to be insightful, but this year the most powerful posting that I have found so far came not from one of the official contributors, but from the page where anyone can leave a comment. Craig received a short teaching from the great Jewish teacher and leader of the twentieth century, Rav Kook. It was sent to him by Don Abramson. He shared it on the comments page. I’m re-sharing it below. It speaks for itself.

“There are those who mistakenly think that world peace can only come when there is a unity of opinions and character traits. Therefore, when scholars and students of Torah disagree, and develop multiple approaches and methods, they think that they are causing strife and opposing shalom. In truth, it is not so, because true shalom is impossible without appreciating the value of pluralism intrinsic in shalom. The various pieces of peace come from a variety of approaches and methods which make it clear how much each one has a place and a value that complements one another. Even those methods which appear superfluous or contradictory possess an element of truth which contributes to the mosaic of shalom. Indeed, in all the apparent disparate approaches lies the light of truth and justice, knowledge, fear and love, and the true light of Torah.”
Olat HaRe’iah
Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak Kook

Blogging Elul 5771: Connected in so many ways

September 16, 2011 / gurevitzr

Last night I came home from Congregation B’nai Israel after a long a day uplifted and inspired. The inspiration was sparked, in large part, by the last thing I saw before leaving the building. The Board of BIFTY, our Temple Youth Group, had gathered together for an evening of preparation work. On the surface, mundane and repetitive tasks were the order of the evening – one group were busy stapling flyers and envelopes onto 800 paper bags. Another group was stuffing envelopes. So what was so inspiring?

First, the room was full – almost every single member of the board was present, from Freshmen Reps through to the Juniors who are our current leaders. School has just got up and running, and here they were giving of their time to the hard work that goes on behind the scenes of successful programming and Youth group activity.

Second, the work they were doing, beyond bringing them together to connect with each other, represented the start of a chain, the ends of which we will never know entirely or personally. The bags they were preparing are bags that they will hand out on Rosh Hashanah to all of our congregants. Our congregants will bring them back filled with groceries on Yom Kippur, and our Youth Group will empty them into our Connecticut Food Bank Truck and recycle the bags. What was work, but also shmooze time, and youth group program planning time, will spin off from that one hour last night to hundreds of people receiving food to supplement their family meals in a matter of weeks. Our youth, through this simple act, will generate a response from hundreds in our congregation, helping them all do something small to make a difference in the lives of hundreds more.

BIFTY loading the CT Food Bank Truck on Yom Kippur last year

The other mailing they were preparing is being sent to every 9th through 12th grader connected to our congregation, inviting them to be a part of this incredible youth group. Again, in the busy and hectic worlds of our teenagers, I realize that something that might seem so small is in fact huge. I witnessed the enormous pleasure of members of the board arriving and reconnecting with each other after the Summer, and their enthusiasm to share the experience with others – with weekly programs, regional NFTY NE events (excitement is building for the Levi Leap annual dance on October 3rd), social action activities, and more. The sense of identity, belonging, and leadership that builds from the social community that our teens create for themselves will spin out to manifest in ways still unknowable, likely to impact the rest of their lives.

Walking into our Youth lounge last night, I left inspired because what I witnessed was an example of lives lived in the context of community. Perhaps especially inspired because these teenagers instinctively ‘get it’, or certainly recognize the added meaning it brings to their lives and are willing to exert the effort that it takes to create their own community and make a difference in the lives of others.

As we reflect on our day-to-day lives, the ways in which we exert energy, the communities we are a part of, the ways we actively contribute to them, and the ways in which the small acts we do in these contexts spin out to impact the lives of so many others, known and unknown, let the youth leadership of BIFTY inspire us all. We should never underestimate the power of our actions, and our inactions, to shape the communities and the society of which we are a part.
Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Blogging Elul 5771: On the 10th Remembrance of 9/11

September 9, 2011 / gurevitzr

9/11 Memorial, World Trade Center Site, NYC

As the attention of millions is brought back to events of 9/11 ten years ago, there are countless voices offering their commentaries, their explanations, and their analysis. Our world is turned upside down by acts of hatred and violence, whether the scale be as large as the events of 9/11, or it is the experience of one individual family whose lives are forever changed when a loved one is violently taken from them.

We find ourselves torn from the ordinary, everyday, where we have an unconscious expectation that one day will proceed much like the one before. The sense of certainty and security we have about the existence of the next moment of our lives is shaken.

There is certainly a time and a place for conversations and actions designed to restore our sense of safety and security again. It is not psychologically healthy to live in a state of anxiety about what might be around the next corner. But we might also be reminded that, living in a state of humility, we must accept that the only moment we can ever really know is this one, right now.

There is a time and a place for analysis of what took place on 9/11, and the responses that followed – at an individual, national, and international scale. But there is also a time for silence. A time to stand with individuals and a country remembering those who died. A time to remember the acts of giving and bravery by so many in what turned out to be their last moments. A time to face the monster that is a face of humanity too – our ability to commit great acts of violence against each other.

In this moment I do not seek meaning or explanation. But I am spurred to respond. I am reminded, as I so often need reminding, to live each day fully, to love as fully as I can, to never leave the words that I could say today until tomorrow. I forget this all the time. We all do. We don’t need acts of terror or national tragedies to remind us; this month of Elul leading up to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur – two days that symbolize birth and death respectively, with only 10 days between them – these are part of the rhythm of the Jewish year so that we can pause and consider what we are doing with this gift of existence that we have been given without needing trauma to help us remember.

May the memories of all who died on 9/11 be a blessing in the hearts of all who mourn.

Join us at Congregation B’nai Israel on Sunday morning, 9:45 am, for a morning service of prayer, remembrance and reflection.
We will then join with many other communities of faith, including local Christian and Muslim communities, for an Interfaith outdoor service at The Fairfield Museum, 370 Beach Road, at 3pm. The names of all those who died on 9/11 from Connecticut will be read as part of this ritual that will include readings and music. All are then invited to join Sacred Listening Circles inside the museum to share memories, reflections, and hopes with other local residents in facilitated small groups. The museum also has a photo exhibit on display in remembrance of 9/11.

Blogging Elul 5771: Finding full humanity

September 2, 2011 / gurevitzr

Today’s blog is by Rabbi Debbie Young-Somers, a colleague in the UK, and one of the Rabbis of the West London Synagogue of British Jews – the founding synagogue of Reform Judaism in the UK. She is a regular on ‘Pause for Thought’ – a faith-based message featured on BBC Radio 2. Follow Rabbi Young-Somers blog here.

In large part Ellul is here to give us time to consider our relationships with each other and heal them, so that we might more fully return to ourselves and to God on Yom Kippur. Sometimes this may mean making a direct approach to someone and acknowledging that what you said or did was wrong and/or caused pain and apologising for this fact. Today, however, purely by chance, I was reminded that sometimes it’s also about having very normal day to day exchanges and experiencing and being open to the full humanity contained in them. It was a very small thing really, but one that was the perfect start to a busy day and a busy shabbat. When I don’t have time to make challah (special bread for shabbat) I tend to end up buying it in our local Arabic shop Solomon’s, which picks up 2 boxes of challot, bagels and rye breads from a kosher bakery in Hendon every Friday. During the last month I’ve apologised to them for buying such good smelling bread when they are fasting, and they have grinned appreciatively. This morning I asked how Eid had been for them, and at the end of the conversation, the sales man wished me Shabbat Shalom. Of course this isn’t going to change the world. But it changes my immediate surroundings, and brings a humanity to what is otherwise a very sensible business venture for them and a wonderful convenience for me. Building slowly slowly on trust between individuals, perhaps we can, step by step, create a sense of comfort and joy in our beautiful differences which are, after all, what make us human and interesting. So while during Ellul we look to improve the relationships that are perhaps more meaningful and long term, we can also take the opportunity to explore those relationships that are more functional, and instil in them human warmth and encounter, building local community, and appreciating our differences. Shabbat Shalom

Blog Elul 5771: Entering the holy of holies each and every day

August 31, 2011 / gurevitzr

Today is Rosh Hodesh Elul. Inspired by Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, this year I’ll be sharing postings a few times a week in the month leading up to Rosh Hashanah, and cross-posting some of my favorites from others who are doing the same. If you use Twitter, you can see who else is blogging their way through the month of Elul by following #blogelul

Artwork by Michael Noyes: michaelnoyes.com

The Hebrew letters of the month of Elul, Aleph, Lamed, Vav, Lamed, were transformed in rabbinic commentary into a representation of the phrase from Song of Songs, Ani l’dodi v’dodi li – I am my beloved’s and my beloved in mine. The 117 verses of love poetry that make up the Song of Songs, absent of the explicit mention of God, are a bit of a mystery – why are they part of our holy canon?

Rabbi Akiva argued that this book was like the holy of holies in the Temple; he said that when the messiah came we wouldn’t need all of the commandments in the Torah, but we’d still need the Song of Songs.

The holy of holies was meant to be the innermost part of the Temple in Jerusalem. It was believed to be the place where the High Priest came closest to sensing the Presence of God.

The Song of Songs is an erotic book, but not in the sense that we usually use that term in common language. The love imagery of Song of Songs takes us to a place that is more experiential. It is sensual because it engages all of our senses and the poetry gives us a feeling of something that is very difficult to capture in words. A bit like love itself. We know it when we feel it. I once heard someone describe the holy of holies as being ‘on the inside of the inside’. Being so completely present in the moment that you completely lose the sense of separation. As soon as you notice this, you are no longer in it. I think that can sometimes be the experience of love, but it can also be the experience of listening to a symphony, or hiking up a mountain, or reading a book, or watching your child sleep in their bed.

These are deeply spiritual experiences… or they can be. The poetry of the Song of Songs uses love only as an example. And the Song of Songs makes no explicit mention of God. Yet our tradition suggests that it is when we have these kinds of spiritual experiences – when we are on the inside of the inside and so completely present to the moment we are in – this is the closest we might come to feeling the presence of God.

There are many people who don’t feel comfortable using the ‘G’ word to describe these kinds of experiences. That is partly due to the idea of God that we have inherited from many of our holy texts, and generations that have gone before us, not serving us well in the world we live in today. They were the best attempts of an ancient people to understand their most deeply felt experiences. But, as Rabbi Irwin Kula suggests, maybe its time for a new God – time for new conversations that help us talk about our most deeply felt experiences in ways that help us make meaning in our lives.

Those who have read recent entries in this blog will know that I recently returned from a social action trip with some of my congregants to help rebuilding efforts in Alabama. We worked in a small town called Cordova – about 40 minutes outside of Birmingham. It was a very powerful experience for us, and one of the things we were immediately struck by was the deep language of faith that pervaded the way people there understood their world. And so we were not volunteers coming to help for a week, but ‘God’s hands here to do God’s work.’ I confess, it took us aback a bit. We North Easterners aren’t used to thinking about our lives that way. And yet, our group was deeply moved by it – we recognized that the language they used elevated the way we thought about each little thing we did there and each interaction we had with the people who lived in Cordova.

I think that’s the secret of the Song of Songs. Its just a book of love poetry, or it’s the holiest book that we have. And the holy of holies is just another room in a man-made Temple, or it’s a place where one can feel God’s presence intensely. Whether it is ordinary or holy, a mundane or a spiritual experience, depends on whether we are paying attention, being fully present to the experience, and willing to label these moments of our lives in significant ways or not.

And I think that’s why the month of Elul is connected to the phrase from Song of Songs, ‘Ani l’Dodi v’dodi li’ – I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. We are invited to pay extra attention this month – to experience life more deeply and reflect on the meaningful moments that can be felt in the midst of the most ordinary of days. This is Jewish mindfulness practice.

As we move toward a New Year, with good intentions to move away from judgment, harshness, anger, impatience, intolerance, and many of those other sins we declare during the high holydays, Elul invites us to see our attempts to be more compassionate, kind, generous, patient, understanding as a spiritual practice.

We sing on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur:
Adonai, Adonai El Rachum v’chanun. Erech apayim, Rav chesed v’emet. Notzer chesed la’alafim, nosei avon vafesha, v’chata’ah v’nakei
The Eternal One, A God merciful and gracious, endlessly patient, loving and true, showing mercy to thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin, and granting pardon.

Maybe we are God’s hands doing God’s work. And maybe these words are there to remind us of who we most want to be in the world.

Elul Reflections 10: Immersing ourselves in Ritual

September 7, 2010 / gurevitzr

Last week I took a group of 5 women to our local mikvah for a pre-High Holyday preparation ritual. We ranged in age from about 40 to mid-80s; some had experienced the ritual of mikvah before and some had never been. It was a meaningful and powerful ritual for us all – reading prayers that helped to set our intentions and then, guided by a beautiful mikvah ritual created for Mayyim Hayyim – the community mikvah and educational center in Boston, we took it in turns to immerse while the rest of the group provided witness by gently chanting in the background, Peleg Elohim, Mayim, Mayim, Mayim Chayyim (Streams of God, full of water. Waters of Life)[music by Rabbi Shefa Gold; words from Ps. 65:10].

This coming week we will have the opportunity to engage in another water-based High Holyday ritual – tashlich; casting bread into running waters in a nearby brook or river to symbolically indicate our intention and desire to cast away the sins of the past year – the ways we failed to recognize our highest path and our highest self, whether by intention as we were driven by other motives, or by omission through lack of presence to a moment or to a person who needed more from us.

Rosh Hashanah is filled with opportunities for ritual moments drawn from the tradition – the dipping of apple into honey, hearing the shofar, deciding what to wear, making a special meal to be shared. Deciding what to wear? For some, my including a ritual such as this on the list brings to mind negative associations with past experiences in synagogues where community members seemed more focused on what each other was wearing, or obsessing about ‘getting something new’ than they did on why we were all there in the first place. But I’ve come to understand that ritual, when done mindfully and with intention, can be a powerful and meaningful thing. It can also be empty and superficial if one is simply going through the motions. Each year, I make a conscious decision about which suit I will wear on Rosh Hashanah – I feel no obligation to go out and get something ‘new’, but there might be something about the color, or something about my associations with the suit – when I got it, who got it, a previous occasion when I wore it that I now to bring to mind and I wish to connect with walking into the synagogue on Erev Rosh Hashanah, bringing with me a set of intentions or associations.

Rituals often attract rituals. At B’nai Israel it is the custom for members of our Youth Group – BIFTY – to compile and lead our tashlich ritual on the second day of Rosh Hashanah. It is meaningful for our community to be led in this way by our youth. There is nothing innate about this having been given to them that is connected to the ritual of tashlich, but it has become important to us, and I look forward each year to receiving the new design and any additions from our new Religious and Cultural VPs – my ‘new’ taste, each year, of who they are and how they respond to the first ritual task requested of them. I also believe that our community engages with the ritual itself with greater attention and intention when our teens lead the way – there is a mutual inspiration that we feel.

Dipping apple in honey symbolizes our hopes for a sweet new year. That is about the future. But for me, dipping apple in honey is so much more about the past because my associations with this ritual – what really makes it powerful for me – are years of memories of dipping apple in honey with my family, and those ritual moments we created together in the home – the first thing we would do when we got back from synagogue. It made Rosh Hashanah an ‘in here’ experience for us and not just an ‘out there’ experience; just through the simple act of standing together as a household for 10 mins to say the blessings over wine, challah and apple and honey. This year, the chanting/meditation group that I co-lead, Chantsformations, is gathering on the Sunday between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur and our theme is ‘savoring the sweetness’ – intentionally bringing to awareness not just the connections with the past or the hopes for the future, but recognizing that the ritual of dipping apple into honey can also be a meditation on the present – to truly savor the sweetness of just being here now.

In so many ways, our rituals can take on meaning far beyond the simple, symbolic associations that we often hear as the ‘official’ reasons why they exist. I am sure that you have rituals for this season, or associations and stories that accompany specific rituals that are most meaningful to you that often come to mind at the moment that you engage in the activity. Please click on the comments link and share them with us here.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz