Reading the responses of congregants who told me what they need, miss and wish for during the holydays indicated that sounds, smells and tastes of yesteryear reverberate for so many. One person listed a grocery list of Rosh Hashanah food including apples and honey, tzimmes, honey cake, taiglach, halvah and marmalade (I’ll join you for everything but the taiglach…ugh...a toothbreaker).
Many recalled the sound of Kol Nidrei – no surprise there – and the other special melodies that make the Days of Awe so prominent in their memories. But it was also their participation in the choir that they found meaningful. That was a microcosm of the bigger point, namely, the role “community” plays in general. Larger congregations are, for all intents and purposes, “communities” – plural - but after a year here I’ve come to learn there’s a special bond enveloping the Beth El Congregation. Sure, there are those who stand on the fringes; I and most of you would be surprised if everyone had the same warm feelings. Nevertheless, I know I’m not wrong in my perspective and what I’ve read highlights this impression.
A few of you mentioned the mood, the sacred silence even in the midst of prayer and song, maybe especially in the midst of sounds. You can close your eyes in your pew seat and sense the presence of kindred spirits all around you, often folks for whom the holydays are the only time they join in worship. But on the holydays their presence is palpable…and so is yours.
In that context know that we are aware of the meaning of the “space” for you. We will be having opportunities for you to come into the Temple, into the sanctuary, during the days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur for private meditation. While Covid-19 will keep us, indeed the entire Jewish world, from familiar holyday experiences, we are trying to anticipate those needs, that which you’ll miss and those things you wish for. I know it’s getting to be like beating a dead horse, but I reiterate that you’ll have to be open to the changes as we hope to be open to the most endearing elements of the holydays and do our best to incorporate them.
You know, sometimes Jewish “professionals” – rabbis, cantors, executive directors, educators – take a lot for granted. This pandemic has opened my eyes (and colleagues have said the same) to the ingrained presence of your Yiddisheh neshomah, your deeply Jewish souls.
(Speaking of communicating with God, a man walked on top of a hill to talk to God. He asked, “What’s a million years to you, God?” And God said, “A minute.” Then the man asked, “What’s a million dollars to you? And God answered, “A penny.” The man asked, “God, can I have a penny?” And God said, “Sure…in a minute.”)