The holidays have always been heavily based around time with family and friends. I don’t know about you, but I always feel more excited and connected to the meaning of the holiday when I am able to share in the experience with those that I am deeply emotionally connected too, while also holding space for new and growing connections. This is because I thrive off of helping create an emotionally meaningful holiday for others.
This year we have all had to make adjustments to how we spend our holiday seasons. Passover and Easter looked different around the globe as nearly everyone entered into some form of quarantine around that time. Flights got canceled, religious services moved virtual, and meals become smaller in guests, limited mainly to this you live with.
Over the years, when it came to the major Jewish holidays, I have tried hard to be with my parents, either home in Florida or with them visiting me in the state that I was residing in at the time. When I would be unable to be with them, I would get together with friends who were/are family. I would do my research, find a shul my friends and I would enjoy, or go on my own if that was the best option. When I was in undergrad, I would even drive an hour to get to a community for services and a meal.
Even when I was away from home, I always put in the effort to attend services and connect with a community because it would help me feel connected to my family. The distance feels so much smaller when you know that you are all doing the same thing even when miles and time zones apart. This feeling of unity set in for me during my senior year of college.
That year I was very involved in Jewish student life. I was on the executive board for Hillel as the Religious Life Coordinator. This meant that I was the one who took the lead role on arranging weekly services and monthly meals. I, and the rest of the board members, worked so hard at promoting and recruiting that our attendance numbers spiked. That year changed everything for me. I went from having a religious identity rooted in my family traditions to expanding this connection by finding meaning and purpose in it for myself.
But I didn’t do that on my own or over night. Nor was there one moment alone that changed everything. It’s a combinations of experiences and relationships that’s have helped me grow spiritually over the years, and continues to change.
There is one story though that is specific to Rosh Hashanah. It’s one that I think about at this time every year.
Rosh Hashanah coincides with the start of academic fall semester. Because of the rigor of senior year, I made the hard decision to stay at school. It also allowed me to be involved and embrace my leadership role. I would sprint back and fourth between services and classes. I knew that they would be ending soon when my late-morning class got out but I decided to give it a try and get there in time for the last few songs.
I made it there within minutes of the last song, Adom Olam, a song that reminds us that G-d is always with us. It also happened to be a song that you can apply nearly any tune of another song to (If you look it up on youtube you will hear so many variations). It was always a guessing game growing up to see which the Rabbi/Cantor was going to choose. The tune chosen that day was Yerushalayim Shel Zalahav, translating to Jerusalem of Gold.
Every time I hear the actual song Yerushalayim Shel Zahav I tear up because it was the song that I chose to play to honor my Zaidy (BDE) at my bat mitzvah. He passed away while I was in high school, so when I heard the tune I became very emotional thinking of him. It is only natural that I started to cry.
Midway through the song at Rosh Hashanah services, as the rabbi sang, his 2 year old daughter waddled over to him and he picked her up. That’s when I lost it.
Me as a Baby with my Zaidy
My grandfather was a Rabbi/Cantor in various states, retiring in Florida only to start another congregation. I grew up in that community, spending Shabbos at his house most weekends. At the end of each service, I would do the same thing that this little girl was doing. I would crawl up the stairs to get on the podium area and he would pick me up as he sang the last song, this very same song (I don’t remember which tune).
In that moment I was flooded with memories and I felt like my family was there with me. I felt like he was with me. All those values of living a fulfilling and connected Jewish life had been gifted even more meaning. I could barely hold it together so I was texting with my mom, who was with my dad and siblings, while they were at services themself. This was that moment that showed me how even far away we were still all connected through our previous years of being together and shared traditions.
But wait! There’s one more part to the story! After the service I waited around. I wasn’t ready to go back to classes or leave the space. A man walked over to me and asked why I had been crying. After I told him my story he asked in kindness for my grandfather’s name. So I told him, it was Rabbi Joesph Speiser.
This man took a step back and shock flooded his face. He proceeded to ask me if he ever worked at a shul in West Chester, Pennsylvania. “Yes! For a few years before he and the family moved back to New York.” This is when he was filled with emotion. He shared with me that my grandfather was who taught and led him through his Bar Mitzvah about 50 years before!! The two of us stood their sobbing.
This is where the common joke about how the Jewish world is so small comes in. It’s not so small that we know everyone but, small enough to know that Jewish communities around the world will welcome you into their homes. It is also moments like this that make it so special.
But you don’t even have to be Jewish to experience the smallness of the Jewish world. When my lovely college roommate, who is Catholic, studied abroad in Israel she met people from various colleges around the USA. One of the guys in her program ended up being one of Cody’s college housemate! This had no impact on my meeting my husband, but was a fun connection that we figured out when she and Cody became friends on Facebook.
I want to leave you with this. Rosh Hashanah is a time of self-reflection allowing us to set goals on how we want to grow and be better people. It also provides an opportunity to reignite our desire to connect with the communities that we are a part of and seek out those we want to get to know.
COVID has led us to take a closer and more critical look at how we are all responsible for the wellbeing of our community. It has forced us to grow as humans by having us recognize that we have a responsibility to sometimes do what may make us feel uneasy to prioritize the safety and wellbeing of human life.
I miss my family dearly and it is challenging to not be able to connect with my friends and community in Denver in person. I just remember that I am doing my own part in keeping myself and others well so that one day I will be able to see them again with ease and lots of hugs. And while in the meantime this distance can be saddening, I also feel empowered. I am blessed to be able to spend the holidays in the comfort of my home with my husband and know that our hearts are filled with companionship and love from our family and friends even at a distance. This serves as a wonderful opportunity to grow our own feeling of connection and spirituality so that when are able to all be together again, sharing in religious services, meals, and holidays, it will feel even more elevating.
No matter where you are or how you are spending your holidays this year, my family and I wish you a happy, healthy, sweet new year only filled with growth and blessings. May we all be together again soon.
xoxo,
Shana Bryn
Dress: Draper James
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