When the Baal Shem Tov, the founder of Chasidic Judaism, had special prayers to make, he would retreat to a particular place in the forest, light a fire, and meditate in prayer. His prayer was answered.

A generation later, when his disciple the Maggid, the preacher of Mezeritch, had petitions to make, he would go to the same place in the forest, and would say: "Lord, we can no longer light the fire, nor do we know the secret meditations that underlie the prayers; but we do know the precise place in this forest where it was once performed. And that must surely be sufficient!" And it was.

A generation later, the great rabbi, Israel of Rishiv, was called upon to perform the same task. He sat down on his throne in his dynastic center, and said: "We cannot light the fire; we cannot recite the meditations and prayers; we do not even know the precise place in the forest where it was performed. But we can tell the story of how it was done." And the story he told had the same effect as the actions of the other two!

There are many who come to worship during the Jewish holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur blessed with knowing how to light the fire—the fire of enthusiasm that spiritually warms and nourishes ourselves and our children. We certainly know the place in the forest, are familiar with the prayers and meditations that well up naturally from our hearts and emotions to their lips.

There are others who cannot light the fire or recite the prayers and meditations but who, nevertheless, "know the place in the forest." We come to services fairly regularly, observe other festivals, and are committed to giving our children a better religious education than we perhaps had.

But there is a large majority of us who find ourselves unable to even locate the place in the forest, who are not even inclined to search for the place, who do not even know that there is a forest, inside of which there is a place of unique exaltedness.

And yet, for all that, we do engage in the basic exercise. We tell the story! We tell it by our presence. We affirm that it is, after all, our story, and a glorious, rich and ongoing story that is gathering momentum, spiritual power and interest as it unfolds in our age. 

As we gather this year for High Holy Days, once again at Real Life, our small community becomes a large congregation. It’s an amazing sight to behold, as Santa Clarita for a few days feels vibrantly Jewish.  And something wonderfully sacred happens as, from all our different directions, the room becomes a sacred space where our prayers blend and fuse together.

This year make a commitment not to be afraid of trying something new.  Don’t be intimidated by the Hebrew or songs you may not know.  Unlock your heart and spirit to new possibilities.

Each of us has a prayer that is necessary, not just for ourselves, but for everyone else too.  And it may very well not be in Hebrew.  It may not even have words, but rest assured, your community is depending on it.

We look forward to seeing you during the holiday season, and may it open up new opportunities for the future.

​L'Shanah tovah tikatevu.  May you be inscribed for a rich and fulfilling year in the Book of Life.

       How have fifteen years passed since the devastation of 9/11? On one hand, it seems like just yesterday. We turn around and fifteen years have passed. But when we stop and consider how we have been affected individually and as a nation, it is almost overwhelming.
   The trajectory of each of our lives has been altered. The tremendous effect it has had on our lives is felt when we travel and when we are at home. There is scarcely and area of politics or international relations that are still not being directed by the realities of the tragedy, or the fears of a similar attack. Fifteen years on, we are still calculating the losses emotionally, physically, financially, psychologically and spiritually.
   Immediately after the tragedy in 2001 our congregation held a community-wide memorial, represented by every member of our Interfaith Council. The following year, on 9/11/02, beginning at dawn, the names of every victim were read in an extremely emotional ceremony.
   For the first five years after the tragedy we held a morning service every 9/11 to reflect and honor the victims. Over the last decade we have held memorials and special programs on 9/11 or on the nearest Shabbat. This year on Sunday, September 11th we will be holding an Open House and religious school. On that we will also be lighting memorial candles at 10 am, and enabling anyone who would like to visit during the 10 am-1 pm to light a candle as well. Anyone who would like to receive a yahrtzeit candle at the Kabbalat Shabbat night service can do so Friday Sept. 9th.
   When we pause to reflect on loss, we are simultaneously reminded of all we possess. By looking back, even in mourning, we are able to direct our energy into preserving the positive in the present, and strive towards protecting our values for the future.
   This is also the goal of the High Holidays, which we prepare for during this period. Our tradition instructs us to be in a similar frame of mind each year, even if that specific tragedy hadn't happened.
   Anyone who has attended Yizkor service understands how important it is to remember the lives that were lost in the last year, as well as previous years. Many people also visit graves of their parents and of other loved ones during this period, recalling those who have made an important impact on us in the previous years, and whose memories we cherish as a source of inspiration for the coming years as well.
   As we prepare ourselves for the coming High Holy Days, we wish each other in person and in writing shanahtovah -- a good New Year or Le-shanahtovahtikatevu (May you be inscribed for a good and sweet year").
   Whatever blessings this year brings you, may you accept them with gratitude, whatever challenges, may you face them with courage.
   LE-SHANAH TOVAH TIKATEVU -- MAY YOU BE INSCRIBED FOR A GOOD YEAR!