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Rabbinic Inspiration for a Bumpy New Year


7/3/2002

Jewish Exponent staff

Local rabbis aimed to lift the spirits of their congregations this Rosh Hashanah in the wake of the
Sept. 11 attacks. Some offered solace. Others offered theological explanations. All strove to
counter the blind hate of terrorism.


“Tonight is Erev Rosh Hashanah, the beginning of a New Year, a time of hope and
promise. And yet this Rosh Hashanah is different. Tonight, we say “Shanah Tovah,”
“a good year” — but it rings hollow. We say: “A year of sweetness and joy,” but it
sounds so false. This does not seem to us a very “happy New Year” at all. …

We do not feel much like celebrating this New Year. But we are commanded to
celebrate — and so we will. We will because we love our country and believe in her
strength. We will because we cannot grant victory to evil. We will because it is our
legacy and our mandate — to live fully and with joy, even when we are lost and
desperate and wounded. We will because, quite simply, we cannot do anything
else.”

— Rabbi Elliot Strom, Shir Ami-Bucks County Jewish Congregation, Newtown

“There are times when the siren from the Penn Wynne firehouse a few blocks from
my home wakes me up in the middle of the night. … A siren shrieks that someone’s
in danger — maybe my neighbor, maybe my family, maybe me. It pierces our armor,
exposes our vulnerability, yanks us from our denial. Whether in darkness of night or
in broad daylight, literally and figuratively, that howling, insistent siren jerks us from
our sleep and calls us into action.

Today, more than any Rosh Hashanah in memory, is Siren Day. This sanctuary is the
firehouse; the shofar is the siren. We’re the residents who’ve awoken to discover a
house in flames, lives lost and endangered. We’re the firefighters and rescue teams
called from our homes, ready to respond.”

— Rabbi Marc Margolius, Congregation Beth Am Israel, Penn Valley

“The tekiah, the blast of the shofar, is an alarm which must awaken us to action. It is
a call to respond and retaliate against those who have attacked us. We, like Israel,
like every sovereign country, have a right and obligation to defend our citizens and
land against attack and to prevent future attacks. Jewish law instructs us in exactly
that way: ‘If one is coming to kill you, rise up and kill them first.’ ”

— Rabbi Neil Cooper, Temple Beth Hillel-Beth El, Wynnewood

“As I wondered what will become of our great country, my soul took me to Ezekiel 37.
‘And [the Lord] said to me, ‘Prophesy over these bones and say to them: O dry bones
… I will cause breath to enter you and you shall live again.’ ”

These words were read to the people of Israel when they were lost, when their cities
had been destroyed, the people butchered, and those that survived the carnage were
exiled to Babylon.

Ezekiel inspired his people that life can come from death. Not that the dead will live
again, but rather, the community as a whole can be reborn from the ashes. We are
never dead so long as there is hope. We are never dead so long as we dream. We
are never dead so long as we have faith. We are never dead so long as we hold
together. We are never dead so long as we are courageously dedicated to rebuilding
our lives.”

— Rabbi Gregory Marx, Congregation Beth Or, Spring House

“The Jewish approach to tragedy has always been twofold. On the one hand, we
grieve. There is no way any human being can ignore the terrible and tremendous
pain being suffered by so many people. However, we do not allow the grief to
become all-consuming. We must turn tragedy into triumph, and ashes into
rebuilding.”

— Rabbi Yochonon Goldman, Congregation B’nai Abraham, Philadelphia

“For the decree [of the Unetaneh Tokef prayer] will be whatever it will be, not in the
sense of God sitting down and deciding your life literally, but in the sense that God —
the huge cosmic God of the way universe works — will continue to power the
universe, and you and I will prosper or not within that context.

We can try to control our fate, but like the victims of terrorism or the victims of
earthquakes, we may not succeed. Other forces may overwhelm us. But what we can
control, and what no superior force or circumstance can take from us is our attitude
toward whatever of life we are given, and the way we live that life.

This is the wisdom of our tradition — that whatever is in store for us, whatever the
decree, we may not be able to avert it, but we can put a dent in its severity by
teshuvah, by prayer and by righteous living.

— Rabbi Avi Winokur, Society Hill Synagogue, Philadelphia