As rabbis on Keshet’s staff, we have been thinking a lot about the upcoming High Holidays: how complicated and painful this moment is — especially in light of last weekend’s horrific news and the ongoing suffering and loss of life, how impossible it can seem to just turn the page, the role of prayer and ritual, and how we may still, somehow, experience meaning and joy. We want to share our conversation with you about all of these things, things we know are on many of your minds as well. We hope that our own grappling — our questions, worries, and hopes about these High Holidays — can offer you wisdom to hold onto as we approach 5785.

 

What are you feeling as we approach these holidays?

Lonnie: I’m feeling so many things! A mixture of deep pain and grief over this past year, and some comfort and nostalgia in the act of returning to the High Holidays — a thing we do each and every year. Moments like this really ground me in the cyclical nature of the Jewish year cycle. No matter where I am emotionally or physically, the High Holidays still come each and every year, and they bring with them an opportunity to refocus. 

Eliana: What Lonnie said resonates with me. This year was painful for many reasons. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed and stuck. I’m appreciating this time of spiritual movement to reflect more deeply on how I’ve lived this past year and how I want to grow, to show up more wholly (and holy) in the time ahead while still holding the pieces of the present. I get to take a beat, remember the miracles in my own life, and get ready to keep trying to make the world a little better than how I’ve found it. I’m looking forward to that grounding.

Micah: Me too! I am usually feeling all kinds of different ways about the words and rituals that we engage each year, and there has never been a year when it felt simple. For me, re-entering the holiday season is like entering a state of flow: I find the rituals and the words familiar and comforting enough that I can let them wash through me, let go of what I need to let go of, and just be. In a year that has been as full of uncertainty, grief, and worry as this year has been, I find that I am very much in need of that. 

 

What is the role of memory/revisiting the past in relation to teshuvah (repentance and returning)?

Eliana: I have a love/hate relationship with the concept of teshuvah during this season. It was actually participating in tashlich (literally, to cast off, a Jewish atonement ritual) that prompted me to step away from my Jewish practice for a number of years. Then I found radically queer Jewish spaces that gave me a reframe rooted in self-love, and eventually everything fell into place. I’m grateful for that time of discovery. I reflect on it every High Holiday season because if it wasn’t for those years, I wouldn’t have found my way back to the practices that feel nourishing and resonant as a progressive queer trans Jew. It’s kind of meta, but it was figuring out what teshuvah meant for me that helped me on my actual spiritual journey of return and keeps me going. I also find it such a blessing we have this practice built in, and it feels important we intentionally engage with it on an ongoing basis, not just during this time of year.

Lonnie: I totally get what Eliana is saying! I want to be careful in talking about the act of teshuvah. For me, it’s really important that it doesn’t become an act of self-flagellation. Rather, I see it as an opportunity to do really important self work, to look back at the past year and ask myself: “What are the times I missed the mark? What are the times in which I didn’t live up to my values?” And then I can meet those memories and moments with self-compassion and acceptance. Only from that place, I believe, can we begin the difficult work of repair and of doing things differently in the future.

Micah: Yes! Lonnie, I love what you are saying about the role of compassion and context in thinking through where we missed the mark rather than engaging in shame. I am thinking about the ways that we have, over the centuries, interpreted and re-interpreted the Biblical roots of these festivals. Something that I think is not always carried through — but that I think should be — is the notion of Yom Kippur as the day that the Holy of Holies is made ready to accept the Divine Presence. When we translate from the concept of ritually purifying an altar to the concept of personal teshuvah, I wonder how we can carry that over. What do we have to notice, to care for, and to prepare in order to create spaces in which sacredness can thrive?

 

Are there any rituals, prayers, or foods that feel particularly meaningful to you this year? 

Lonnie: I find so much power in the ritual/prayer practice of selichot (prayers for forgiveness), special prayers recited during the month leading up to Rosh Hashanah.

Micah: For me, I feel so connected with the food traditions. One of the food traditions of Rosh Hashanah is to prepare and eat foods that represent the hopes and intentions that we are bringing into the new year — black eyed peas (lubiya/rubia) for abundance, honey for sweetness, dates, leeks, carrots, and more. I love that these little micro-rituals are made up of puns and multilingual jokes, and that these little puns are ways for us to voice our tender and vulnerable hopes. 

Eliana: The Elul (the Jewish month leading up to the High Holidays) ritual that feels most meaningful for me is visiting the cemetery. Being there helps me gain perspective and reflect on my own life. To share a quote from my Hey Alma piece about this ritual, “Learning from the stories of those who came before me — their greatness as well as their imperfections — propels me forward.” I still feel that!

My family is also buried very close to Rebbe Schneerson, so I always go to the ohel (literally “tent”), where he was buried, to pray tehillim (Psalms) and leave a note. It’s customary before visiting the ohel to prepare by giving tzedakah (charity) and spiritually taking stock of our lives. These practices feel even more resonant during the season of teshuvah, tzedakah, and tefillah (prayer)! 

 

What are some of your hopes and dreams as we enter a new year? 

Micah: As we enter a new year, I am eager for us to approach one another with greater compassion, a greater willingness to listen and learn, and a greater desire to lift one another up. 

Eliana: My dream is for a world where all people can live, love, and move freely as their whole selves! My hope is that we continue fighting for that world because I truly believe it can happen. If not for my generation, then for the next! I also hope people will listen to each other more. We have so much to learn from the wisdom of our elders and from our children, but we need to truly hear what’s being said. L’dor v’dor (from generation to generation) can go both ways, right? 

Lonnie: I love that vision! My dream is that in this next year, we learn to love a little deeper, to dream bigger, to laugh louder, to live more fully. It’s really easy to become disconnected from the things that bring us joy. This year, I want to lean deeper into queer joy and community.

 

Given the year that this has been, what do we need to unlock our dreams and hopes? 

Lonnie: To be honest, this year I’m having a lot of trouble thinking and dreaming of a future. One might say I’m stuck in a theological rut of sorts. I’m left wondering about other moments in Jewish time when it’s felt difficult — or impossible — to imagine a future. My mind travels back to the destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem, in 70 CE.

In this moment, we find a window into the mind of the Rabbis: “Once, Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai was going out of Jerusalem, and Rabbi Joshua followed after him. And he saw the Holy Temple destroyed. Rabbi Joshua said: ‘Woe to us, for this is destroyed — the place where all of Israel’s sins are forgiven!’  Rabbi Yohanan said to him: ‘My son, do not be distressed, for we have a form of atonement just like it. And what is it? Gemilut chasadim, acts of lovingkindness.’”  (Avot d’Rabbi Natan 4:5)

At a time in which the very foundation of what it meant to be Jewish had been destroyed, Rabbi Yohanan offers a new way forward — one not bound to place, but to action. In the name of R’ Yohanan, I’m dreaming up a new year rooted in acts of lovingkindness. 

Micah: Lonnie, I love that text! It is one of my absolute favorites, and I have been so shaped by the kind of theology that you are describing. Rabbi Benay Lappe teaches that since that moment (and honestly, probably before that moment) we have been working to build the unrecognizable Jewish future. That the strength of our tradition is that it gives us the tools to grow and bend and evolve when the things that we thought we knew are crashing down — and that in every generation, something is crashing down. We may not know what will unlock the world that we need to build, but we are already equipped with the knowledge, the deep moral intuition, the critical thinking, and, most importantly, the compassion to build that world. 

Eliana: Yes to everything said already! I think individually and communally we need to channel the wisdom of our ancestors — Jewish, queer, and queer Jewish ancestors. And we need to believe in our collective power. Like Micah said, we have the tools! We can build the world we want to see for ourselves and for generations to come, but we have to believe we can make it so. I know we can!

 

There are a lot of big/overwhelming things happening right now — what can just one person do? 

Lonnie: I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the role of individuals in larger movements. I find great strength in the knowledge that I am not alone in this work — when I need to rest, I can move back for a moment and someone else can move forward. I’m reminded of the beautiful prayer/poem Evening Prayer  in the book Rimonim: Ritual Poetry of Jewish Liberation by Aurora Levins Morales.

Micah: Right, we each might be only one person, but we exist with others. We can show up for and with one another and slowly, but steadily, work for change. And no one of us has to accomplish it all. I think that one of the wisest Jewish texts (and yes, it is very widely quoted!) is from Pirkei Avot, “Rabbi Tarfon used to say: ‘It is not upon you to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.’” 

Eliana: It’s funny, because when we think about the butterfly effect, we think about how the smallest change to the past could have enormous impact on how the future plays out, but when we think of small actions we can take now, so often we think and hear: “What could my small action do?” What if we applied that butterfly effect reasoning to how we show up in the present? It also makes me think about my favorite midrash (rabbinic story) about the moon (Chullin 60b). God created the sun and moon, a “greater” and “lesser” light. In this midrash, the moon speaks up for herself and tells God in several ways she isn’t lesser than the sun and deserves to take up space. Eventually, God realizes Their mistake, and tries to repair the harm by saying the offering for the new moon will be their atonement. This one action where the moon advocates for herself and doesn’t give up had such an impact that God Godself has the opportunity to do teshuvah and the moon does take her rightful place. And now we get to think about this every Rosh Chodesh (beginning of a Jewish month)! Individual actions can seem small, but they can ripple in ways we might not even be aware of!

 

Are there any books/podcasts/songs/etc. that you are using to prepare for this time of year? 

Lonnie: Something I don’t often share with others is that I have a personal tarot practice! I pull a card every morning and spend some time journaling based on what I pull. Leading up to the chagim (holidays), I pull both a tarot card and a Jewish angel card. I like to ground my reading of the tarot in Jessica Dore’s Tarot for Change. 

Eliana: I’m a big music guy! I have a playlist of secular music that gives me a range of High Holy Day vibes. Favorites from the playlist include Older by Ben Platt, What’s Up by 4 Non Blondes, 3 Things by Jason Mraz, Used To Be Young by Miley Cyrus, Chasing the Sun by Sara Bareilles, and 21 Guns by Green Day.

Micah: This year, what is resonating for me is spending more time outdoors, in nature, by myself. I allow myself to slow down, to observe the deep green shade under the trees or the sparkle on the water, to breathe in and smell the air, and to allow myself to remember that I exist in a world that is vast, wonderful, complex — and that I am not even remotely at the center of it.