L'Shanah Tovah from Small Potatoes

Entering a fresh a new year while carrying shards of our past

L’Shanah Tovah U’mitukah from Central Maine! My synagogue, Beth Israel Congregation, is filled with the smells of roast chicken and tzimmes after two long years away from our building and one another. The sanctuary is dressed in white, symbolizing purity and mortality, once again. The names of the synagogue’s founding families adorn each table and Torah scroll, reminding us that we have been at this holy work for 120 years. If all goes according to plan, we will be welcoming well over a hundred people - community members and Colby Hillel students — to celebrate the Jewish new year in this little town that has found novel ways to renew itself time and time again.

You all will receive copies of my Rosh Hashanah sermons after the holiday, but I wanted to share my opening thoughts for services tonight:

My mom, like my grandmother before her, always cuts out articles from newspapers and magazines that she thinks I’ll like. It’s a very specific kind of love language. I think it’s Jewish, but I’m not actually sure.

One of those articles was by Daliah Lithwick about how to move forward and find joy in this life when so many of us are shattered. While she focused on a range of political issues in her piece, it was a small Yiddish lesson that truly resonated with me.

There is a Yiddish word , tzebrokhnkayt, which means… “the quality of brokenheartedness that gives strength in healing.” The notion is unpacked further here, but at its essence it means that “we each carry our shattered pieces with us.” The essential bit is that tzebrokhnkayt is not something in need of quick fixing; it is instead honored. It means that we are obligated to gather up, tend to, and honor the pain, but also to take up the work of healing.

Just as the Israelites were required to carry the tablets that Moses angrily broke (and reminded the Israelites of their worst moment) to the Promised Land, so too must we carry the shards of our broken selves with us into the new year. Even though we much rather forget past suffering, carrying the shards of our past into the future is not necessarily a punishment. The remnants of our past can give us the strength to heal if we know how to carry them. Our shards can remind us of our growth. They can be repurposed into something beautiful and new. They can remind us that we have suffered before and have survived to this day, and God willing can do so again.

As we slowly emerge from times of multiple plagues, let us adorn ourselves in white, reminding us not only of our morality, but also of our ability to start again fresh. However, let us also not be afraid to carry the shards of our broken selves with us — it is in our broken pasts that we can find the ability to heal and draw the strength necessary for an unwritten future.

Here’s to an imperfectly whole, sweet, and beautiful 5783. See you on the other side

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