As the High Holidays (Yamim Noraim) approach, I find myself reflecting on this past year;  a year of growth, challenge, and miracles. As long as we are alive, we evolve - we transform over time. I also hope, and I will strive, that my growth is for the better. There are many miracles in my life that I am most grateful for - five grandchildren, a loving wife of over 43 years, dear friends, and an amazing community at Schechter Bergen and in Teaneck.

But there were real challenges too. Most significantly I recently had an illness that led to a few hospitalizations and ultimately surgery. I went from perfectly healthy to a sudden illness that left me vulnerable and uncertain. As unnerving as it was, and as fast as it seemingly turned my life upside down,  it was as quickly that I recovered. I am grateful for my renewed good health. 

When you are sick and faced with uncertainty, there is a greater recognition of the fragility of life and its seemingly arbitrary nature. Even so, I didn't think much about God at the time, nor did I solicit God’s Divine intervention.  For me, God, or the idea of God, often has felt distant—a mere abstract concept that I had routinely acknowledged in daily prayers or pondered in my Jewish philosophy classes. But even those philosophical reflections I once indulged in about God's existence seemed distant and inconsequential in my hospital bed.

It wasn’t until I was feeling like myself again and reciting the weekday Amidah that I encountered a profound moment. In the weekday Amidah, I have recited the phrases "Heals the sick" and "He heals the sick among His people Israel" innumerable times without genuine sentiment. Yet, this time, for the first time after my illness, those words resonated with me. I was moved - my heart was touched - emotion aroused - it meant something personally to me. I actually felt comfort, peace, validation for what I went through, and once again, an appreciation for the fragility and beauty of life which is always there, just beneath the surface of my soul.

But, then like I often do, I got lost in my own philosophical ”meaning of life” thoughts. If God's existence is not confirmable, and God’s non-existence unprovable, why was I so moved by these brachot? What is it about the concept of God, the universe, and its profound mystery that evokes such wonder in the human soul; my soul? What is it about the vastness and intricacies of the universe that stirs such wonder within us?

An even more unsettling question came to mind for me which brings discomfort and yearning - Do I even need God to be an active part of my life to derive the profound benefits of Jewish prayer, ritual, and the embedded values? And yet, I know, in the recesses of my soul, I do yearn for God. I want to find God - I want God to find me. 

Lost in those thoughts, and wondering where or when is God,  I began to think about the nature of gratitude - an attribute (middah) I constantly work to embrace. Gratitude, I believe, is an unstated statement that we are all a part of something greater, a vast tapestry. Perhaps gratitude leads us to a recognition of our place in the world, our interdependence, and the fleeting nature of life. Maybe, in sickness and recovery, the idea of God, however one might perceive God, can serve as a symbol of this interconnected tapestry of the mystery of God, the universe, Jewish prayer, values and rituals. 

Judaism, with its rich tapestry of rituals, traditions, and teachings, imparts values, ethical standards, and a profound sense of community. It offers a roadmap for leading a meaningful life, with or without a certain relationship with God. The rituals, the prayers, such as the weekday Amidah that reminded me of the power of healing, and the festivals— all celebrate the human experience. An existence that explores everything from joy and gratitude to suffering and resilience within the context of a mysterious universe and unknowable God whose attributes, we believe, include justice, mercy, compassion, and love. For me this is a wonderful and profound struggle and journey within my relationship with Judaism and God.

It is truly my hope that as we begin this year of learning, growth, and Jewish exploration, that our students are provided the gift of time to also grapple, question, and ultimately form their own relationships with God. I wish for them moments of certainty and times of doubt, moments of  connection, and times of questioning. For it is through this process that our faith and understanding grow.

In this process of exploration, I hope, like me,  our students gain an understanding of the meaningful connection between God, the Jewish people, and the power of gratitude in recognizing our place in this world.

Through our work at school in partnership with our families, I believe that our students can come to see our rituals and values not as simply obligations but as opportunities. Opportunities to connect, to reflect, and to express gratitude for our blessings, big and small, that fill our lives.

In the end, whether through personal relationships with God, through gratitude, or through our rituals and values, my deepest wish is for our students to find meaningful pathways to connect with their heritage, with God, the Jewish people and with each other.

I look forward with hope and faith that when Yom Kippur arrives in less than two weeks, and I think about whether I will be inscribed in the Book of Life for another year, I will approach that moment with greater humility and appreciation as I invoke that prayer into the unknowable mysteries of the universe and a power we call God, for not only me, but also for all of my loved ones and those in my heart - which includes the entire larger Schechter Bergen Kehillah (community). May this year be one of growth, insight, and connection for all.