Today on this most sacred occasion, there is a sense of the weight of this moment in our hearts. Rosh Hashana - the beginning of the Jewish new year carries with it both promise and vulnerability. There’s something tender, almost fragile, about new beginnings. They require us to come face to face with our deepest selves, to peel back the layers of who we’ve become and ask, “who do I want to be?”

The Courage to Face Ourselves

If we are honest, this can be a terrifying question. It’s hard to face ourselves fully. We all carry hidden wounds, disappointments, regrets—things we would rather leave in the shadows. We might feel a pull to rush through the motions of this holiday, to skip right to dipping the apples in honey and saying the blessings, while avoiding the harder work of real reflection.

But, just for a moment here, lets all try to slow things down because Rosh Hashana is not about pretending everything is fine. It’s about giving ourselves the gift of truth—the truth of where we are, not where we wish we were. This is a time for vulnerability, an opportunity for the kind of self-reflection that takes courage because it brings us face to face with our humanity.

Look around, we are all carrying something. Maybe it’s a broken relationship we haven’t been able to mend. Maybe it’s the weight of words spoken in anger that can’t be taken back. Maybe it’s the sense that we’ve let ourselves down, once again falling short of the person we want to be.

I want to say to you: **it’s okay**. This is where we begin. Rosh Hashanah is not asking us to be perfect—it is asking us to be honest. Its asking us to soften ourselves enough to see our own flaws and failures with sincerity and humility.

The Ache of Imperfection

One of the hardest parts of this season is acknowledging our imperfections. We live in a world that so often demands that we present ourselves as strong, capable, put-together. But Rosh Hashanah reminds us that true strength comes not from perfection, but from the willingness to grow, and to try again, even after we have stumbled.

When we hear the sound of the shofar, it is not just a call to awaken spiritually. It is a reminder that life is full of brokenness, but it is in that brokenness, that we find the potential for transformation. The cracks in our lives, the things we might be ashamed of, are not our end—they are our beginning. They show us where to look for areas to improve. They shine a light for us to follow inside to our darkest corners.

The shofar sounds like a cry—raw, unpolished, real. It doesn’t ask us to be anything but who we are in this moment: human, flawed, and worthy of another chance.

The Hebrew Scriptures tell us that during this time, G-d is more accessible to us to seek out and ask for redemption. As our hearts are softened, so too is G-d’s graciousness.

The Healing Power of Vulnerability

There’s something profound about coming together on Rosh Hashanah and admitting that we all need healing. Sometimes, we hold ourselves back from this kind of vulnerability because we’re afraid—afraid of being seen, afraid of being judged. But I want to remind you: you are not alone. None of us are alone in this struggle to be better, to do better, to live more fully in line with our highest values.

Every person here is carrying their own set of challenges, regrets, and hopes. And yet, we are here together, sharing this moment, lifting each other up simply by being present and being open.

Rosh Hashanah offers us the chance to reconnect—not only with ourselves, but with each other. It reminds us that we are part of something larger, that we do not walk this path of renewal alone. The work we do—*teshuvah*—repentance, repair, and return—may be deeply personal, but it is also communal. We are here to hold space for one another’s pain and joy, to witness the journeys we are all on, and to lift each other up as we walk toward healing.

A New Beginning, Rooted in Grace

Perhaps the most powerful message of Rosh Hashanah is that renewal is possible—not just for the people sitting next to us, but for us. For you. For me. Despite all the ways we may have fallen short, and Lord knows there are many, G-d meets us here where we are, and offers grace, love, and another chance to try again and do better..

We don’t need to have it all figured out. We don’t need to have all the answers today. What we need is the willingness to begin again, to take one step toward healing, toward reconciliation, toward becoming the person we know we can be.

Tonight, we will hear the sound of the shofar once again. Let that sound be a balm for your soul, a reminder that renewal is not only possible, it is your birthright. You are worthy of a fresh start. You are worthy of the grace that fills this moment.

A Prayer for Us All

As we step into this new year, may we be gentle with ourselves and with each other. May we find the strength to face our past without fear, to embrace our future with hope, and to live in the present with honor. May we see the beauty in our imperfections, the potential in our mistakes, and the divine in our every breath.

As we dip the apple into the honey, as is the tradition, may we taste the sweetness of this new beginning, knowing that no matter where we’ve been, or how far we feel we have fallen, we are never beyond the reach of salvation.

Shana Tova U’Metuka—may this new year be filled with sweetness, healing, and peace.

Amen

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