Rabbi Jon Prosnit 

It is with a little pause and hesitation that I wish you a Shanah Tovah—a year filled with blessings and abundant joy.

I pause because I am not sure that the current moment feels all that conducive to joy. The burdens of the world outside our doors follow us into these High Holidays: ongoing anxiety and unease nationally, a painful rise in antisemitism, deep societal division and the quiet personal heartbreaks we carry.

This year, I hope, we do not gather simply to review the headlines or tally the losses of the passing year. We step into the High Holidays seeking a reset.

I am sincere in my wish for happiness. I hope your apple dipped in honey brings sweetness, and that your cup overflows.. Striving for joy is not a throwaway line or a superficial greeting. For Jews, joy is a sacred obligation rooted in our deepest texts: Ivdu et Adonai b’simcha—“Serve God with joy.” As the Hasidic master Nachman of Bratzlav famously taught: Mitzvah g’dolah lihiyot b’simcha tamid—“It is a great mitzvah to be joyous always.”

Finding joy during the Days of Awe might seem counterintuitive—we associate this season with solemnity, repentance, and accountability. But our tradition has always held that reverence and delight live side by side.

The Psalmist understood this balance—demanding a disposition of hope even in dark times. Psalm 30, which speaks so directly to the light that follows darkness, reminds us:
“Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.” (30:6)
“You have turned my lament into dancing; you have removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy.” (30:12)

We don’t know what specific crisis met the author of Psalm 30. Something tore at the illusion that nothing bad could happen. Yet, from narrow places, the Psalmist realized that he must not underestimate the potential for goodness that still exists.

Pursuing joy as we enter this New Year isn’t naive or Pollyannaish. It’s what we do here every day at Temple Beth El.  We know that the turn of the Jewish calendar will not magically erase our troubles. But as a people, we are not built for despair. We have always found a way to remain grateful, resilient, and optimistic in life’s toughest moments.

As the shofar blasts echo over these days of awe, I invite you to think deeply about your own pathways to joy: a quiet walk, Torah study, song, a meaningful conversation, or, perhaps the comfort of community.  May we strengthen one another, choose hope over despair, and cultivate the joy that is the foundation of our people.  Nobody says it better than Mary Oliver. 

You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things. 

To learn more about all of our events, please go to: https://www.tbemadison.org/calendar
You can find our High Holy Day service times and link to register at: https://www.tbemadison.org/hhd5787

On behalf of all of us at Temple Beth El, I wish you a sweet and joy-filled New Year.