14 | SEPTEMBER 17 • 2020 

Bridging the 
Distance
T

he last six months brought with 
them many challenges. We’
ve 
instituted extreme measures 
for the safety of ourselves and others. 
We’
ve made the difficult decision to 
close our synagogues, barring ourselves 
from communal prayer for the sake of 
communal health.
For some, that reality 
persists even today, and the 
High Holidays will therefore 
take unprecedented form. 
For others, despite being in 
person, the service includes 
masks, social distancing and 
limited attendance. During the season in 
which we come together we feel unusually 
disconnected.
In another sense, though, we remind 
ourselves that such distance is relegated 
to the physical realm alone. Specifically, at 
this time, we’
re reminded of the intimacy 
with which we can connect spiritually — 
to ourselves, and to God Himself. The 
Talmud (Rosh Hashanah 18) tells us that 
Hashem is to be found more imminently 
during the Days of Awe (based on Isaiah
55:6). Despite the spiritual power of 
a physical quorum, an individual can 
produce that same energy during this 
time.
But that proximity is hard to fathom. 

For so many of us, our most spiritually 
uplifting moments occur in the places 
that we regard as the most spiritual — 
the synagogues or the study halls. As 
the Chassidic saying goes, however, 
at this time, Hashem is not only 
reachable by appointment in the palace. 
Instead, “HaMelech basadeh,” the King 
is even in the field. He’
s accessible and 
approachable, yearning for that intimacy. 
An interesting symbol of this lesson 
is actually embedded within a tradition 
many shuls follow during davening. At 
the start of the Shacharit service, the 
first “HaMelech” is chanted aloud by 
the chazzan. But to begin, the chazzan 
doesn’
t do so from the bimah, but rather 
from his own seat, no matter where that 
might be. To understand this custom, 
some point to a phrase that many of us 
are familiar with: “Baruch Kevod Hashem 
Mimkomo,” “Blessed is Hashem from 
His place” (Ezekiel 3:12). On his way out 
of Jerusalem, Yechezkel is told through 
prophecy that God can be blessed no 
matter where He is, even in exile. Some 
even say that the relocation does not 
refer to God, but to each individual. No 
matter where we find ourselves, even at a 
distance from our ideal sanctuary, we can 
still produce that blessing.
In terms of our usual, religious rituals, 
we find ourselves at an unfortunate loss. 
But especially during the Days of Awe, we 
remind ourselves that despite the distance 
— whether physical or spiritual — we 

now have the opportunity to grow closer 
than ever before.
Ketivah vachatimah tovah (A good 
inscription and sealing). 

Rabbi Shaya Katz is the spiritual leader of Young Israel 
of Oak Park.

Caring Is 
Connection
T

o say these High Holidays are once 
in a lifetime is almost trite. Just con-
sider the fact that everything we have 
been experiencing these past six months 
has been a first. I find it mindboggling to 
recount what we have altered 
and how we have adapted. 
What we thought was briefly 
lived practically today has 
become the expected.
Yet, now is the season tra-
ditionally when we return — 
we return to our congrega-
tions and communities and 
excitedly greet one another. We embrace. 
We leave uplifted and ready to tackle anoth-
er year.
The words of Elie Wiesel are echoing in 
my ears. In asking what it means to be a 
synagogue, a congregation, he answered, 
“It means to care about each other. Pray? 
We can pray at home. We come together 
as a congregation in order to share in each 
other’
s lives and in order to share in the life 
of the Jewish people — past, present and 
future.
” 
Yet, that seems far from possible today. 
Our realities on the surface restrict our 
opportunities to be together, and yes, to 
even pray together. But does it? I find it 
remarkable the ways we have innovated in 
these past months and created something 
unique and special. How much the more so 
will our New Year reflect this certainty. 
No doubt there is a lot we will miss in 
being in person together. But I believe 
the connections we honor and continue 
to create demonstrate exactly what Elie 
Wiesel profoundly taught. We are a part of 
this community because we do care deeply 
about one another — and we will continue 
to do so. That is and must be our mission. 
For me, in looking at our faith, there are 
very few “have-to’
s” right now. Similar to 

L’Shanah Tovah

The JN invited local rabbis to share 
holiday messages with the community.

Rabbi Shaya 
Katz

Rabbi 
Michael L. 
Moskowitz

Rosh Hashanah 5781

