Summer ‘25/Fall ‘25
A Season of Reflection and Renewal
As we stand on the threshold of the High Holy Days, there’s a certain kind of quiet anticipation that fills the month of Elul. It’s a time of reflection, of looking inward, of evaluating where we’ve been and where we hope to go. This year, however, the sense of renewal and introspection feels even more profound, as the Sataloff family embraces the blessing of new life with the birth of our daughter.
The arrival of a child has a way of reshaping everything – perspectives, priorities, and even prayers. As I gaze into her innocent eyes, I’m reminded of the precious gift of life and the sacred responsibility we have to nurture it. The days have become brighter, (louder for sure), filled with joy and wonder, but also with new questions and challenges. What kind of world are we bringing her into? What values will we instill in her? And how can we ensure that she grows up in a community that holds the same warmth and support that we have been blessed with?
This season is not just about asking for forgiveness for our past mistakes, but also about dreaming forward – about what we hope to achieve in the coming year, both individually and collectively. The reflection and repentance that the High Holy Days call for are not only about regret, but about growth. It is a season to ask ourselves, “How can we be better?” How can we deepen our relationships, strengthen our faith, and extend kindness to others?
This past year has been one of tremendous growth. It has been a year of personal and communal highs and lows, of challenges and celebrations, and of learning to navigate the complexities of our lives with gratitude. There have been moments of hardship, when I’ve found myself questioning my place in the world, but there have also been moments of great joy and connection – moments that remind me why we are here and why we do this sacred work of trying to live a meaningful life. As we prepare to enter the Days of Awe, I can’t help but think back on my memories – both the struggles (trust me, there were plenty) and the triumphs – and see how they’ve shaped me into who I am today.
As the shofar sounds this year, I will listen with different ears. I’ll hear it as a parent, as someone who now understands, perhaps more fully, the importance of the generations that came before me, and those that will follow. The traditions of this time – the fasting, the prayers, the acts of charity and forgiveness – take on new meaning now that I have a daughter to pass these teachings to. What legacy will I leave for her? How will I help guide her into a life of compassion, justice, and holiness?
In the coming year, I’m setting intentions for growth in the areas that matter most – deepening my spiritual practice, strengthening the bonds within our community, and cherishing the gift of family. I’m also aware that, as a new parent, there will be moments when I will need patience and grace, moments when I will fall short of my own expectations. But I take comfort in knowing that the High Holy Days give us the opportunity to begin again, to renew ourselves and our commitments. Each year, we are offered a clean slate – a chance to re-enter the world with open hearts, fresh resolve, and the wisdom of the years that have come before.
I invite all of you, in this sacred season, to join me in reflecting on the year that has passed. Let us embrace the lessons it has taught us, and approach the new year with hope and intention. Together, as a community, we can step into the unknown with faith and confidence, knowing that we are held in a circle of love and support. May this coming year be one of peace, joy, and growth – for all of us, and for the generations to come.
G’mar Chatimah Tovah – may you be sealed for a good year. Cheers to 5786!
Rabbi Aaron Sataloff