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Rabbinic Reflections

A Career Overflowing with Satisfaction and Joy: Rabbi Jan M. Brahms Reflects on 50 Years As a Reform Rabbi

I have been blessed with the privilege of bearing the title “rabbi” for one-half century. That designation alone has resulted in respect, admiration, and opportunity. Doors have been opened for me in congregations, communities, and academics. My goal has always been to act in accordance to that honor. Much of my success and fulfillment could not have been possible without the unlimited support of my wife of fifty-two years, Ann Dee, my children, and in retirement, my grandchildren.

Being a rabbi, I was invited into the lives of my congregants at the most significant religious moments of their lives, birth, b’rit and ‘brit b’not, naming, consecration, bar/bat mitzvah, confirmation, wedding, and the end of life. I have been trusted to advise during times of challenge and confusion along with rejoicing and accomplishment.

Often, past congregants will contact me remarking that I was helpful to them at a significant moment of their lives. Recently a grieving mother came up to me shortly after the untimely death of her twenty-five-year-old son telling me how much he admired me for making a positive influence on his life. I treasure those relationships.

It is with much satisfaction that I have been able to teach Torah within my congregations along with adjunct professorships at colleges and universities.

As president of my rabbinic region, MWARR, I was honored to serve on the Board of the CCAR learning from colleagues. Through the CCAR, I was also able to serve as the chairperson of the Mentoring program to hopefully assist fifth-year rabbinic students at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion and into the first two years of their rabbinates. I was entrusted to serve on the NCRCR trying to guide rabbis and congregations in resolving conflicts and bring shalom to all parties.

To my teachers and students, my classmates and colleagues, my congregants and friends, and especially my family I say, “Todah rabbah” for granting me a career filled to overflowing with satisfaction, fulfillment, and joy.

Rabbi Jan M. Brahms is the Rabbi Emeritus of Congregation Beth Shalom of The Woodlands in The Woodlands, Texas. Throughout his rabbinic career, he also served synagogues in Madison, Wisconsin; Nashville, Tennessee; and Baton Rouge, Louisiana. He is celebrating 50 years as a Reform rabbi. We look forward to celebrating him and all of the CCAR’s 50-year rabbis at CCAR Convention 2026.

Categories
Books CCAR Press

How Can We Help Children Imagine God?

Michelle Shapiro Abraham, RJE, is the editor of Mishkan T’filah for Children: A Siddur for Families and Schools for Grades K–2 from CCAR Press. In this interview, she shares how the siddur was thoughtfully created to make prayer accessible and meaningful for young children.

How did you translate the depth and style of Mishkan T’filah into a version accessible to children?

The most important priority for me in translating this book for children was creating images of God that are expansive and capable of holding meaning for both children and the adults praying alongside them. I sought to preserve the spiritual depth and tone of Mishkan T’filah while shaping language that would truly resonate with this younger community. To do so, I leaned into relational and imaginative images—God tucking us in at night, God understood not simply as the “Creator of Peace” but as Peace itself, and God as an artist joyfully playing with colors to bring the world into being.

What was the writing and editing process like?

We began by deciding which prayers would have more creative, poetic readings and which would use simple, straightforward translations. I then began writing the prayers themselves—some came easily, while others required much more time and revision. Throughout the process, I worked closely with Rabbi Hara Person as editor in an ongoing, collaborative exchange that helped sharpen the language and clarify the theology. Drafts were reviewed multiple times with careful attention to tone, accessibility , and the audience. We also incorporated feedback from educators and clergy to ensure the prayers would work naturally in real settings with children and the adults praying alongside them.

How does Mishkan T’filah for Children differ from other siddurim for this age range?

Mishkan T’filah for Children was designed to be a sophisticated siddur that invites multiple entry points. The language is accessible enough for children to read aloud independently, while still offering theological depth that encourages parents to reflect and wonder, much like the original Mishkan T’filah. It presents a wide range of God images and spiritual metaphors, allowing children and adults to encounter prayer in different ways. We also took varied approaches to different prayers—sometimes leaning into simplicity, and other times inviting imagination and poetry—so the siddur can grow with the reader over time.

What does Katie Lipsitt’s art contribute to the experience of praying with this siddur? 

Her art brings the siddur to life by adding color and visual energy to each page. Her illustrations make the book inviting and engaging, especially for young children and pre-readers, who enjoy exploring the images alongside the text. They offer visual interpretations of the prayers, helping children connect with the words in a tangible, imaginative way. Overall, her art enhances the experience of praying with the siddur, making it both accessible and captivating.

How do you suggest that families and religious schools use the book?

Families and religious schools can use the book in multiple ways. It works well for family services on Shabbat or during religious school, helping children follow along and participate. At home, families can use it to begin learning the service and exploring prayers together. In religious school, it can serve as a tool to delve into the meaning of the prayers and introduce different images and ideas of God. Overall, it’s designed to support both learning and meaningful shared prayer.

Michelle Shapiro Abraham, RJE, is the executive director at JBI Library. She is the editor of Mishkan T’filah for Children: A Siddur for Families and Schools for Grades K–2 and coeditor of Mishkan T’filah: Journal Edition, both published by CCAR Press.

Categories
Immigration Inclusion

Calling Somalis ‘Garbage’: A Jewish Response to Racist Rhetoric

“To condemn a class is, to say the least, to wrong the good with the bad. I do not like to hear a class or nationality condemned on account of a few sinners.”

These words were written by President Lincoln during the Civil War. He was overriding General Grant’s order to expel Jews from Kentucky, Tennessee, and Mississippi for suspicion of price gouging and collaborating with the enemy.

Note that the President does not say that all Jews are innocent, that none deserve to be punished, or that there is nothing to worry about. His response to Grant’s overreach is emblematic of religious and democratic values.

The Abraham of Genesis righteously stands up to God and argues on behalf of the people of Sodom and Gomorrah: “Will not the source of justice do justly? Will You wipe out the innocent with the guilty?”

Like his biblical namesake, Lincoln was distressed that guilt by association would lead to unjust consequences. Even during an arduous civil war, he articulates that there is no place for this kind of characterization and treatment of an entire people.

Would that we could say the same of President Donald Trump? As if body shaming were not enough, as if mocking the disabled were not enough, as if trivializing the assassination of a journalist were not enough, President Trump has returned to his familiar pattern of misrepresenting and attacking an entire class of people. We have seen him do it with Mexicans, we have heard him do it with Haitians, and just recently, the target of his wrath has been Somalis.

Let’s start with this: Mr. President, no human being is garbage. Racists are not garbage. Vaccine deniers are not garbage. Climate change deniers are not garbage. Participants in the January 6 assault are not garbage. One can disapprove of their ideas. One can resent their actions. One can work to counter their efforts. All of this is possible without calling them garbage.

I lived in Minneapolis with my wife and children from 2008 to 2015. The Minneapolis Jewish Day School, where I taught and where my children learned, had an interfaith partnership program with a charter school where most of the students were Somali. From 2012 to 2015, our neighbors across the street were a Somali family. I will not stand by and say nothing while an entire class of people are recklessly maligned. Have some Somalis defrauded social benefits programs? It would not shock me. Nor would it shock me to find out that Norwegian, Irish, Swedish, German, Russian, Slovakian, and Ukrainian Minnesotans have committed fraud. The public should care less about the nationality, ethnicity, religious, or political ideology of fraudsters and care more about fraud. Yet we don’t hear the President referring to fraudsters who are white, Christian, and from European countries as “garbage.” We do not hear him saying that these people take advantage of social support programs and contribute nothing. It appears as if the legacy of Lincoln is lost on President Trump.

Leadership demands responsibility, discernment, consideration, and compassion. Past presidents have been anything but perfect. Just as American history itself. But Lincoln’s refusal to accede to Grant’s plan to deport Southern Jews en masse is an example of restraint, consciousness, and integrity.

Contrary to President Trump’s claims, there is no evidence of “Somali gangs terrorizing” Minnesota neighborhoods. We know all too well how unsubstantiated claims lead to suffering on a systemic scale. In just a few weeks, we will begin the Book of Exodus, in which Pharaoh tells Egypt that there are too many Hebrews and asserts without evidence that if they are not quickly subjugated, they may join the country’s enemies in war. Torah and Jewish history are replete with examples of what happens when we are maligned in the name of someone’s political or personal agenda. We have seen this movie before. It does not end well. We have a duty as Jews to call out this behavior for what is: bullying and bigotry. It is unbecoming in anyone but especially the leader of the free world.

At a Somali gathering in Saint Cloud, Minnesota this week, a member of the community sang “America the Beautiful.” The poem, by Katherine Lee Bates, contains the powerful words: “America! America! God mend thine every flaw, Confirm thy soul in self-control, Thy liberty in law!”

May our President devote himself to mending his flawed words and false accusations.

May he replace carelessness with self-control.

And may he, and all of us, remember that our liberties are grounded in the guiding principle that no one in this great land is above the law.

May this be our blessing and let us say: Amen.

Rabbi David Wirtschafter of Temple Adath Israel in Lexington, Kentucky, serves on the CCAR Resolutions Committee and is the CCAR liaison to the Jewish Rohingya Justice Network.

Categories
Books CCAR Press

The Power of Life Cycle Rituals in Midlife and Beyond

Rabbi Laura Geller and Rabbi Beth Lieberman, coauthors of Moments That Matter: Marking Transitions in Midlife and Beyond, published by CCAR Press, explore how ritual helps us pay attention to life’s transitions, transforming everyday moments into sacred ones.

The famous text in Pirkei Avot about the map of our lives is familiar to many of us: “At five, the study of Bible; at ten, Mishnah; at thirteen, subject to the commandments; at fifteen, Talmud; at eighteen, marriage; at twenty, for career, connected with a community and hopeful about the future; at thirty, the peak of strength; at forty, wisdom; at fifty, able to give counsel; at sixty, old age; at seventy, the fullness of age; at eighty, courage; at ninety, a bent body; at one hundred, as good as dead and gone completely out of the world.” Who said those Rabbis didn’t have a sense of humor?

While this map is clearly not ours, the Rabbis’ four stages of life do still apply. The first is about dedication to learning; the second is about building career and family; the third focuses on wisdom and giving back; the fourth is learning to let go. However, with our lifespans lengthening as an increasing number of people live thirty years longer than earlier generations, the map is changing once again.

These additional thirty-plus years are not tacked on to the end of our lives, but rather occur between midlife and frail old age, and are years of energy and activity. We now face an unprecedented challenge: As we are blessed with more years added to our life, how do we add more life to our years? Psalm 90:12 offers guidance: “Show us how precious each day is; teach us to be fully here.”[i] In other words, pay attention.

Pay attention. This is where ritual comes in. Ritual is a tool—a technology—that helps us to pay attention. Through ritual, we can connect more deeply to what matters in our life and appreciate that we are part of something greater than ourselves.

The truth is that our lives are already filled with ritual, whether those rituals are professional or personal, religious or secular. Morning coffee, prayer, regular conversations with loved ones, weekly family visits, self-care habits, study practices, cultural outings, watch parties, and yoga classes are just a few of the rituals that may fill our lives. By noticing these rituals, we notice what is important to us; through them, we can see what really matters in our life.

Our new book, Moments That Matter: Marking Transitions in Midlife and Beyond, focuses on a specific kind of ritual—those having to do with the life cycle. What are the important moments in this new stage of life—midlife and beyond—that help us notice and pay attention to what really matters in our lives as we grow older? What are those transitions from one social role to another? How might we mark the moments that matter?

For example: A fifty-five-year-old man and his sister called their rabbi on the way to clean out their parents’ apartment just after their mother moved into an assisted living facility. They asked, “What is the prayer you say when you begin to close up the home you grew up in?” This is not a traditional life cycle moment, but a powerful one nonetheless. The answer to their question was not in any standard clergy handbook, yet creating the right prayer and reciting it before the adult children began their work transformed the experience from a chore to a sacred act.

The book offers a template for each ritual while encouraging readers to imagine creating their own. Because of the book, this is exactly what a congregant did when she was leaving her home of more than fifty years. Her granddaughter wrote about what that new ritual meant to her: “When my grandmother decided a few months ago that it was time for her to move on to her next chapter—to sell the home where she and my grandfather lived for over fifty years … it felt right that we bid farewell to this precious house with an evening of sacred celebration and prayer. … With two cousins via Zoom, everyone was able to partake in a special “Ceremony of Goodbye” at the house in April with our two rabbis. We began in the sunroom by saying the Shehechiyanu . It was during the singing of “The Circle Game” by Joni Mitchell that I started to cry.

“In a guided meditation, we were asked to picture significant memories that took place in this space, and then we said, ‘Baruch otanu b’vo-scheinu, Baruch otanu b’tzei-teinu’ (We are blessed as we come here, we are blessed as we leave here).

“We recited this prayer each time we left a room, to bid each individual space farewell and thank it for all that it gave us. We walked from the sunroom through the dining room and paused for reflection in the upstairs bedrooms, where my dad and uncle shared anecdotes about the games they used to play together and the baseball cards they collected. We traveled downstairs to the primary bedroom to hear from my grandmother about the wonderful and difficult times she spent there with my grandfather, especially towards the end of his life. We said goodbye to the kitchen, which in my memories will always smell like my grandma’s chocolate coconut macaroons.

“After we said our final blessings inside the home, we gathered hand in hand on the front stoop and shared blessings for my grandmother as she begins a new chapter and leaves this precious place behind.”[ii]

This is a new ritual—one of many. Each one is uniquely shaped by the people who want to pay attention to their personal transitions in their own way.

As we learn in the Babylonian Talmud, B’rachot 45a, when there is a question as to what the law is, one must “pok chazi mai ama davar, go out and see what the people are doing.” Moments That Matter is filled with stories of innovation and creative ritual from people around North America.

These new rituals create and deepen connections. Some of them are intimate and are held at home with just some close family or intimate friends; some take place within a synagogue, church, sangha, or other place of worship. Others take place outdoors or in a place that has resonance for the ones creating it—the place they were married, the neighborhood where they grew up. Some are virtual, while others celebrate the joy or comfort from being together face to face. Each ritual gives space for individuals to do it themselves and offers thoughts and examples of how clergy can adapt it for a community.

“Go and see what the people are doing.” They are marking the moments that matter.

Rabbi Laura Geller, rabbi emerita of Temple Emanuel of Beverly Hills, was the third woman in the Reform Movement to become a rabbi. Her book, Getting Good at Getting Older, coauthored with her husband Richard Siegel, z”l, was named a National Jewish Book Award finalist in the category of Contemporary Jewish Life and Practice. Please visit her website at www.rabbilaurageller.com.

Rabbi Beth Lieberman serves as adjunct faculty at the Hebrew Union College, School of Rabbinical Studies, in Los Angeles, mentoring the next generation of communal leaders. She is the coeditor of Honoring Tradition, Embracing Modernity: A Reader for the Union for Reform Judaism’s Introduction to Judaism Course and the literary editor of the JPS TANAKH: Revised Edition (Jewish Publication Society and Sefaria.org, 2023). Please visit her website at www.rabbibethlieberman.com.

[i] Stephen Mitchell, A Book of Psalms (Harper Perennial, 1993), 3

[ii] Excerpted and adapted from Dorrit Corwin’s “L’dor Vador, Under One Roof,” Jewish Women’s Archive, https://jwa.org/blog/ldor-vador-under-one-roof. Used with permission from the author.

Categories
Israel Rabbinic Reflections

Supporting Reform Rabbis, Religious Pluralism, and Democracy in Israel: Rabbi Barry Block Reflects on Participating in the 39th World Zionist Congress

In late October 2025, hundreds of Jewish leaders—including several dozen Reform rabbis—from around the world gathered in Jerusalem to participate in the 39th World Zionist Congress. Reform and progressive leaders came together in the hopes of advancing our shared vision of a just, democratic, pluralistic Israel that equitably represents all of Israeli society. Here, Rabbi Barry Block reflects on his experience.

As part of the ARZENU delegation to the World Zionist Congress, I was asked to consider my “why,” i.e., my reason for working to maximize votes from the community I serve for the Vote Reform! campaign and then to travel to Israel for the Congress. My “why” is clear: To express through action my partnership with our Reform Movement in Israel, together with a wonderful group of rabbinic colleagues and global Jewish leaders of all ages and genders.

Members of MARAM—Israeli Reform rabbis ordained by Hebrew Union College Jerusalem—are my teachers and inspiration, instilling confidence in the future of a Jewish and inclusive Israeli democracy that seeks peace and embraces shared society.

Just as I need my Israeli colleagues to teach me how best to articulate my progressive Zionism in the US, they consistently welcome and express a need for partnership and support from CCAR rabbis and the communities we serve worldwide. I was honored to be part of a diverse global delegation to progressive Zionists who came to Israel for a hard-to-explain and quixotic gathering, the World Zionist Congress.

Foreign as the process is to Israeli and Diaspora Jews alike, our leaders assured that we achieved critical goals for Israel’s future. Working with closely aligned partners such as the Conservative Movement and others with whom we share less, Shoshana Dweck and Harry Levy led the delegation to assure robust ongoing support for our Movement in Israel and the adoption of policies and declarations to chart a path toward a better future for every citizen of Israel and the Jewish people worldwide. 

Those who are concerned about the next generation ought to meet the young adults who came from around the world to be part of ARZENU’s Reform delegation and also in MERCAZ, the Conservative Movement’s analogous organization. Many of them products of URJ congregations, camps, and Israel programs, they range from the youngest of adults to new college graduates to recently ordained rabbis. Their Zionism is as progressive as it is robust, making a congregational rabbi their parents’ age very proud.

My week in Jerusalem fittingly ended with HUC’s beautiful ordination ceremony for six new Israeli Reform rabbis, three of whom I have already had the privilege to learn with. One of them, Rabbi Yael Schweid, is to serve a new community seeded by the Israel Movement for Reform and Progressive Judaism in the Eshkol Regional Council in the Western Negev, including several kibbutzim that were massacred on October 7—Be’eri, Nir Oz, and Nir Yitzchak among them. 

I left Jerusalem with my friend, Rabbi Ayala Miron, to welcome Shabbat with her and the congregation of Bavat Ayin, in Rosh HaAyin, as I do whenever I’m in Israel. Israelis are often amazed that Rosh HaAyin, known as “a Yemenite city,” has a Reform congregation. It’s packed every Friday night. The community center they use for worship works for them for now, but they need and deserve their own synagogue. Israel’s courts agree, thanks to our Israel Religious Action Center. As a rabbi who serves a geographically isolated community in Little Rock, Arkansas, I understand the unique importance of Bavat Ayin having its own synagogue, proudly announcing the presence of relevant, egalitarian Jewish spirituality and culture where it is least expected.

I left Israel on Motzei Shabbat Lech-L’cha with renewed optimism for the future of our Reform Movement’s liberal values in Israel and worldwide.

Rabbi Barry H. Block serves Congregation B’nai Israel in Little Rock, Arkansas. He is the editor of  The Mussar Torah Commentary and  The Social Justice Commentary, both published by CCAR Press.

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CCAR Press Women in the Rabbinate

Embracing Hope: Rabbi Liz P.G. Hirsch on ‘Covenant of Justice’

CCAR Press and Women of Reform Judaism have recently copublished Covenant of Justice: Prayers, Poems, and Meditations from Women of Reform Judaism. In this interview, Rabbi Liz P.G. Hirsch, CEO of WRJ and author of the book’s section introductions, explains how the collection serves as both a spiritual resource and a call to action.

What inspired you to select social justice as the theme for this latest book in WRJ’s Covenant book series? 

Social justice is one of WRJ’s core pillars. We were thrilled to debut this publication at the inaugural Rabbi Marla J. Feldman Social Justice Conference earlier this year–an event that highlighted dedication to action and activism. It is only fitting to continue our Covenant book series with a theme so integral to both our legacy and future.  

What was the process for finding authors? 

We put out a call for submissions to all who identified with our mission. We specified that those who submitted a piece for consideration identify as women, nonbinary, or gender fluid, in line with our most recent updates to our membership policy to be inclusive within our spaces.  

How does Judaism approach social justice in a unique way? 

Social justice is integral to our Jewish tradition. I turn to Pirkei Avot as a helpful example; you are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it. We will not solve every challenge facing the world today, yet we also can’t ignore the important work that is before us, throw our hands up in the air, and not even try to start somewhere. From reproductive freedom, to defending democracy and protections against violence against women, we can turn to Judaism to help guide us in this important fight to create a more just and compassionate world for all.  

Can you highlight a piece from the book that exemplifies its approach? 

I had the honor of writing the introductions of each section of the publication, connecting the meaningful texts to WRJ’s resolutions and liturgical traditions. One of the sections, Embracing Hope, reminds us to always seek peace and pursue it, even when the work seems impossible. Here is a piece from that section, “Tears to Action” by Cantor Lisa Levine:

Tears to Action
From our tears comes action
from our fears comes compassion
in the world so torn from hate
we hear the cry to change our fate
and join our hands for the way
to free ourselves from this tyranny.

Bring us home to a time
where our leaders are not blind
everyone is equal
every spirit joined
sing for justice and for peace
sing for everyone’s release.

From our tears comes understanding
from our fear comes love
knowing who we are
gives us strength to soar
all of our beautiful differences
make us who we are!

Bring us home to the day
marching and chanting all the way
where everyone is equal
every spirit joined
sing for justice, sing for peace
sing to save our souls.

What do you hope readers will take away from the collection? 

Just as the other collections within this series, it is always the right time to lift up the voices of women and others pushed to the sidelines of our community. Each prayer, poem, meditation, and reflection exemplifies the themes of justice and equality, while making our feminist lens front and center.   

Rabbi Liz P.G. Hirsch is the CEO of Women of Reform Judaism (WRJ). She is a contributor to Covenant of Justice: Prayers, Poems, and Meditations from Women of Reform Judaism.

Categories
Books CCAR Press High Holy Days Poetry

The Confession of a Broken Heart: A Poem for Rosh HaShanah

Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar is the author of Unfolding: A High Holy Day Companion from CCAR Press. As Rosh HaShanah approaches, we share one of her poems from the book for the Jewish new year.

Hin’ni: Here I Am
The Confession of a Broken Heart

I am HERE.
I am here.
I stand before the open ark and
the eternal scrolls of our people
dressed in white light.
I stand ready to enter the Holy Days,
to offer prayers that urge me
to live better, kinder,
ever present to the pain of others,
to become a vessel of compassion, trustworthy,
holding hope in the midst of despair.

Hin’ni.
I am here, I am here.
I stand on the edge between earth and heaven,
between what I know and what I can never understand,
between life and life everlasting.
Mortality hovers, a rippling presence,
always there—lingering, waiting, holding.
I am here.

Hin’ni.
I am here.
I stand resilient, determined,
though I have been taken down,
forced to live a different way.
The rhythm of life has been altered.
Time unfolds and morphs, expands and stands still.
I have been called to be present, to pay attention.
What I have I learned?
What have I done with the time I have been given, glorious time of never-ending possibility?
Have I squandered the beauty, the radiance of life,
an offering to my inner being?

Who am I?
Where have I gone astray?
Am I worthy to pray with my people?
May I be worthy to pray with my people.

Hear my plea,
grant me the faith, courage, and wisdom
to enter into cheshbon hanefesh:
the fragility and humility of self-examination.

Hin’ni,
I am here, I am here.
May this fractured heart soften
and hold love and compassion
in a way it never has before.

Hin’ni, I am here.

Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar is an author, poet, spiritual counselor, inspirational speaker, and rabbi emerita at Congregation B’nai Jehoshua Beth Elohim in Deerfield, IL. She is the author of Omer: A Counting, Amen: Seeking Presence with Prayer, Poetry, and Mindfulness Practice, and Unfolding: A High Holy Day Companion, all from CCAR Press.

Categories
Books CCAR Press

‘The Sacred Struggle’: Holding onto Judaism During Challenging Times

The Sacred Struggle: Jewish Responses to Trauma, coedited by Rabbi Lindsey Danziger and Rabbi Benjamin David, is the newest anthology from CCAR Press. In this excerpt from the introduction, Rabbi David discusses the Jewish history of trauma and how his experience with cancer inspired the book.  

We twenty-first-century Jews are, of course, well versed in trauma. With the lessons of the Holocaust still ringing in our ears, we have encountered no shortage of stinging antisemitism and hatefulness in our own day.

Whether in Charlottesville, Pittsburgh, Poway, Jersey City, or Monsey, the relentless attack on Jews and Judaism has shaken all of us. We have grieved together and in time adjusted to a “new normal” in which antisemitism is less an abnormality and more a reality to be wary of every day. We do so amid a post-9/11 world that feels at times desperately unstable: a world where school shootings happen with regularity; where racism, homophobia, transphobia, and xenophobia are rampant; where bullying and cyberbullying plague our children; and where the natural world is under attack by forces that range from small to existential.

We feel in our heart for Israel—all the more so since October 7, 2023—too often maligned or outright denigrated by the international community, even as we mark the highly imperfect record of our beloved Israel. Terror within and outside of Israel has wounded our Israeli family for generations and, by extension, all of us.

How do we not turn to anger? Or, better yet, how do we cling to a Judaism of relevance and hope even in our anger and frustration? How do we maintain a relationship with a benevolent God in illness, in mourning, in dire sadness and frustration? Is it acceptable for a long-standing relationship with Judaism and the Divine to change following a period of distress? What does it mean to reevaluate one’s sense of Jewish heritage from a hospital room or a place of quiet grief? This book will explore these important questions, and more.

To be clear, by choosing to title this book The Sacred Struggle, we are not saying we believe nor will we argue that everything happens for a reason, nor offer up a type of theology that is clichéd or unhelpful. Rather, this title affirms that the act of struggle itself can become part of our sacred life journeys. By bringing together writers who have experienced profound hardship and been changed by that hardship, this book aims to shed light on what it means to hold onto Judaism during life challenges and give permission to earnestly evolve in our relationship to faith.

Rabbi Danziger and I both experienced cancer early in our rabbinic career. We were both young parents at the time, with young kids. We each learned a lot about trauma—trauma of the body and the spirit, and how trauma affects a family and community. Cancer is what brought us together, and our journey since has led to the creation of this book. We have both thought at significant length about the ways in which trauma can be life altering, both in ways that are negative and in ways that are surprisingly positive. We have both thought extensively about the pains we each carry and that our people carry. We have wondered together about themes of healing and change, both as human beings and as rabbis. This book comes therefore from both a deeply personal and professional viewpoint.

The Sacred Struggle begins with a useful definition of trauma from Dr. Betsy Stone before exploring the theme of trauma from a textual angle: What do our earliest sources teach us about Jewish responses to trauma? The chapters explore Biblical, Rabbinic, and contemporary approaches to trauma. We then examine different areas of potential trauma: the trauma of acute and chronic illness and how physical challenges impact our emotional and spiritual well-being; the trauma that can result from being marginalized because of race, gender, ability, or illness; the impact of personal and communal violence, from the streets of Memphis to the school halls of Parkland, from terror events to sexual assault; the trauma of natural disasters and the all-too-familiar trauma of pandemics; the trauma that can occur when one is part of a larger community that may be toxic, unhealthy, or simply not present; and finally, the trauma of family loss, which manifests as divorce, infertility, stillbirth, and death of loved ones.

Of course, just because we chose to group certain experiences of trauma does not mean that we are equating the experiences; every trauma is different, as is each of these beautiful, harrowing chapters. Indeed, each chapter goes to a highly vulnerable place; there is great honesty in this book. We believe that within these pages there is something for everyone. We have all lost. We have all been hurt. We can likely all find value in exploring the tools that these brave authors present us.

Rabbi Benjamin P. David serves Reform Congregation Keneseth Israel in Elkins Park, Pennsylvania. He is the coeditor of The Sacred Struggle: Jewish Responses to Trauma and editor of Seven Days, Many Voices: Insights into the Biblical Story of Creation.

Categories
Books CCAR Press High Holy Days

Facing the High Holy Days in a Time of Brokenness

Alden Solovy is the author of Enter These Gates: Meditations for the Days of Awe from CCAR Press. In this post, he shares how he’s turning to two books to find meaning this year.

The High Holy Day season calls us to go from the experience of brokenness to the presence of God, from the pain of loss to the promise of renewal, from the worst of what we experience to the best of what we can imagine. We need—I need—the High Holy Day season this year more than ever.

This season of introspection and improvement arrives for me in the nick of time. I’m surprised by how much harder it has been to begin this year’s journey of self-examination. How could it possibly be any more difficult than last year, in the days leading up to the first anniversary of October 7, 2023? Consumed with writing in the aftermath of the attack that year, I completed my High Holy Day book Enter These Gates: Meditations for the Days of Awe to give voice to the pain of our times and to elevate—against all odds—the call for hope, renewal, justice, peace, and life revived. Turns out, I wrote the book for myself.

Yes, I’m turning to my own book to find meaning this year. I typically find ongoing meaning by continuing to write, not by returning to my work, with the exception of public readings. I simply recommend my books to others, hoping they will find meaning and comfort in my words, and I keep writing. Yet I haven’t fully moved on emotionally and spiritually since October 7, and today my own book is speaking to me as if it is someone else’s voice.

My book, in fact, is singing a duet with another book of poetry, prayer, and inspiration. My heart is drawn to what Rabbi Karyn Kedar writes about the beginning of the High Holy Day journey, which is to experience and examine brokenness. It peaks on Tishah B’Av when we commemorate the destruction of the two temples in Jerusalem. As she writes in her new book Unfolding: A High Holy Day Companion, “The month of Av grounds us with a simple warning: Humanity has an unlimited desire and capacity to create love, but at the same time, humanity has the will and the means to destroy itself. Av asks us to dwell in our desire to live an elevated life…”

I want to dwell in the desire for an elevated life. I want to live in a nation that elevates life. With hostages still in captivity, a two-year set of wars within wars, frequent sirens and trips to bomb shelters, starvation in Gaza, and with global antisemitism spiking, I am putting my hope and faith in this season of introspection to help me find not answers, but ways of being. How to be an Israeli-American progressive Zionist who has no faith in the Israeli government. How to be a Zionist who has given my life to this land, but demands a better government and a better future for Israelis and Palestinians alike.

“The High Holy Days can lift us on words of Torah and prayer to the heights of our best selves,” I write in the introduction to Enter These Gates. “The days also call forth the deepest moments of our vulnerability and pain.” We use that vulnerability and pain as medicine, as a path to healing ourselves as a pivotal step in healing the world.

This year, I am taking Rabbi Kedar’s Unfolding, and my own Enter These Gates, into my first High Holy Day pulpit as an HUC rabbinical student. It is a selfish act of love for myself and the community in which I will serve. It is a selfish act for the people of Israel to demand a better nation for ourselves and the world. It is a selfish act for all of Klal Yisrael for each of us to do everything we can to find the best of who we are and of what God expects from us.

So many prayers need to be prayed. I begin with this one, the opening piece of Enter These Gates. It is called “Pervasive Peace.” Cantorial soloist Rebecca Schwartz composed compelling music for this prayer, which can be heard on YouTube.

Pervasive Peace

May it be Your will, God of our fathers and mothers

That the year ahead brings a pervasive and complete peace

On all the inhabitants of the earth,

Beyond all the dreams of humanity.

,יְהִי רָצוֹן מִלְּפָנֶֽיךָ, אֱלֹהֵי אֲבוֹתֵֽינוּ וְאִמּוֹתֵֽינוּ

שֶׁהַשָּׁנָה הַבָּאָה תָּבִיא שָׁלוֹם מֻחְלָט וְשָׁלֵם

,עַל כָּל־יוֹשְׁבֵי תֵבֵל

.מֵעֵֽבֶר לְכָל־חֲלוֹמוֹת־הָאֱנוֹשׁוּת

Y’hi ratzon mil’fanecha, Elohei avoteinu v’imoteinu,

Shehashanah habaah tavi shalom muchlat v’shaleim

Al kol yosh’vei teiveil,

Mei-eiver l’chol chalomot ha-enoshut.

Alden Solovy is a rabbinical student at Hebrew Union College who lives in Jerusalem. His books include Enter These Gates: Meditations for the Days of Awe, These Words: Poetic Midrash on the Language of Torah, This Grateful Heart: Psalms and Prayers for a New Day, This Joyous Soul: A New Voice for Ancient Yearnings, and This Precious Life: Encountering the Divine with Poetry and Prayer, all published by CCAR Press.

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Books CCAR Press High Holy Days

Understanding the Spiritual Journey from Tishah B’Av to Yom Kippur

Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar is the author of Unfolding: A High Holy Day Companion from CCAR Press. In this excerpt, she explains the special rhythm of the Jewish calendar from the months of Av to Tishrei.

My wondering is my prayer. Beauty is my prayer. My spiritual agitation is my prayer. My prayer is the quiet by the window, which frames my thinking room as the sun sheds an early hue. I have sought silent amazement all the days of my life. I linger.

And I invite you to linger with me. This volume is my attempt to synchronize our spiritual search for meaning with the heartbeat of a few weeks of the Jewish calendar. It is an ode to our mortality, a song to our sense of impermanence. The words are meant to scratch at our imperfections. If we are flawed, and we truly are, then what is our worth? How do we find our purpose within the cracks and fissures of our being? Where do we find meaning?

We live and tarry in these questions for just a few weeks, from Av to Elul to the beginning of Tishrei. This becomes an arch where we slowly become aware, touching our existential longing to live deeply, intently, lovingly, and meaningfully. It is an invitation to a spiritual unfolding.

We begin with Tishah B’Av, the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av—a time of mourning and remembering the many calamities that have befallen the Jewish people. The month of Av is a solemn period grounded in historical circumstances that encourages deep personal reflection. The Temple was destroyed on the ninth of Av in 70 CE because of human frailty; we chose hate over love, and all was lost for the nation. So too, with us—when we give in to negativity, we lose so much. Destruction, we learn, is caused by senseless hatred. Redemption will come with love.

We begin here, in the ashes, for we learn from our tradition that we are but dust. We are of the earth and will return to the earth. This is not a statement of self-deprecation—after all, we are also taught that we stand on holy ground—but rather a call for a humble perspective. It is the reality of human nature to rise and to fall, to love and to hate, to give and to withhold. The month of Av grounds us with a simple warning: Humanity has the unlimited desire and capacity to create and love, but at the same time, humanity has the will and the means to destroy itself. Av asks us to dwell in our desire to live an elevated life—an unfolding toward loving rather than fear.

Nestled between the lowliness of Av and the overwhelming spirituality of Tishrei is the ethereal month of Elul. Elul invites us to contemplate thoughts of forgiveness, love, and beauty. For the entire month, we sing songs of penitence, praying. Praying that we will be forgiven, for we are deeply flawed. Praying that we can forgive, for we are afraid to let go. Remembering that we are created for glorious things—if we can live a life of strength and resilience, depth and compassion.

Love is not a feeling but a spiritual state, not an emotion but a practice. We yearn for an expansive love that lifts us and connects us to our highest impulses. To be gentler with ourselves and find greater self-love. To embrace our relationships with open hearts and understanding. To find a faith grounded in the awareness that love abides and abounds if only we reach for it.

The mantra of the month of Elul is Psalm 27, recited daily: “There is only one thing I seek, to gaze upon beauty all the days of my life” (verse 4). We consider words and concepts such as God, holiness, love, and beauty. For me, they are synonymous and the dwelling place of the aspirational soul.

The calendar leads us further into the thicket of reflection, self-awareness, moral accountability, and spiritual elevation. The first ten days of the month of Tishrei are called the Ten Days of Repentance. For weeks now, we have readied ourselves for the intensity of these ten days. We have practiced sustaining a thoughtful and contemplative pose, thinking about where we have come from, who we are, and who we desire to become. We have tended to our wounds, nurtured our hearts, and immersed ourselves in matters of the spirit. It is healing to realize that these days begin with Rosh HaShanah, a celebration of Creation, when the world shines new and we know that the power to recreate ourselves lies within our attention and intention to do so. The shofar sounds, a clarion call to awaken what lies dormant within so that we may journey ever deeper into repentance and forgiveness, unfolding into a deeper sense of self.

And then Yom Kippur. We are tired, humbled, ecstatic with hope, crying out one last time. We deny ourselves food and drink. On this holiest of days, with nowhere to go, we go inward. We use metaphors that create a sense of urgency like “the gates begin to close” and “seal us in the Book of Life.” We sing one more time of sin and repentance, rocking ourselves, hopeful that we can find the way, the path to a deeper life. A more thoughtful life. A forgiving life. And we bring our generations with us, immersing ourselves in loss and memory and the acute understanding that we are mortal. Morality is the demanding consciousness of Yom Kippur, bidding us to live better, deeper, and kinder. From dust. To dust.

Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar is an author, poet, spiritual counselor, inspirational speaker, and rabbi emerita at Congregation B’nai Jehoshua Beth Elohim in Deerfield, IL. She is the author of Omer: A Counting, Amen: Seeking Presence with Prayer, Poetry, and Mindfulness Practice, and Unfolding: A High Holy Day Companion, all from CCAR Press.