לחיים To LIFE!

The Story (Heard from Reb Zalman and Storyteller Devorah Zaslow - retold by RAbbi Julie Danan)

L'chaim- to Life! Is my theme for these days of Awe this year. 

I always like to tell a story to begin the New Year. 

You know that I always want us to say a loud and energetic “L’Chaim” before the Kiddush. There’s a story behind that.

A Hasid—let’s call him Yankel--went to spend the Jewish holidays with the Hozeh, the Seer of Lublin, a spiritual teacher known for his ability to see beyond the physical.

But when Yankel got there, to his dismay, the great rebbe gazed up at him and told him to go home because he could see that the Hasid’s days were numbered. Yankel felt a chill. He asked for a blessing before he left and the rebbe gave him one, but it didn’t sound convincing.

Poor Yankel was shocked and dejected as he began the trek home. That night at an inn, he met a whole group of boisterous hassids, joyfully on their way to see the same rebbe. They offered for him to join them, so he had to explain his sad story. Everyone was silent for a moment, but then they all chimed in, so nice and encouraging, that he bought them all a round of drinks and they began to bless him: Le’chaim, Le’chaim! To Life, to life! The drinks flowed, the blessings continued, and it soon turned into a farbrengen, a gathering of Torah, songs, and friendship. Yankel felt himself reviving. He continue to treat his new friends, and they continued to tell him, L’Chaim to the wee hours, and to surround him with warmth and love.

The next day Yankel returned to the Rebbe, this time surrounded by his new community. He once again approached the Rebbe, who once again gazed into his face with his piercing eyes, but this time, the rebbe stroked his beard, nodded and there was a faint smile on his lips.

“Stay with us for the holidays, because I see a different light about you now,” said the Rebbe to Yankel. Yankel explained what had happened.

“Ah,” said the great Rebbe, “I see what has changed. Even the blessing of a Tzadik is not as powerful as the L’chayim blessing of a community.”

What happened to Yankel after that holiday season, I don’t know. Did he go on to live to 120, or did he simply experience more joy and friendship in the days allotted to him? None of us knows what the future holds, but we know that loneliness can be corrosive, that life is with people, and that friendship and community may add more days to our life, and will certainly add more life to our days. I wish you a L’Chaim!

The Eve of Rosh Hashanah Sermon: LeChaim – to Life! Rabbi Julie Hilton Danan – Seaside Jewish Community 2025 /5786

To Life, to life – lechaim! This Jewish toast, and favorte song from Fiddler on the Roof, encapsulates the Jewish love of life. Life is a supreme value and Pikuach Nefesh – saving a life—takes precedence over almost all the other mitzvot / commandments in the Torah. “Choose Life” is a commandment that echoes from Sinai down through the ages. That’s one reason that I have chosen “L’Chaim-to Life” as my theme for this year’s Days of Awe.

As the Torah says (Deuteronomy 30:19-20) “I call heaven and earth to witness this day: I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life—so you and your descendent will live,” by loving God and living a godly life.

Consider for a moment what these Days of Awe say about life and how they recreate the life cycle: Rosh Hashanah is full of birth symbolism: It’s the birthday of the world, we read birth stories in the Torah and haftarah, find our way to life-giving water, and enjoy lush fruits such as apples in honey and pomegranates full of seeds.

Yom Kippur is more of a momento mori, a reminder of mortality. We withdraw from life for a day by fasting, traditionally wearing white or even a kittel, which is like a shroud. The prayers of Yizkor and Martyrology remind us that life is short and precious. The High Holiday prayer, unetaneh tokef, recounts all the hazards of life and concludes that our redemption – or at least a partial redemption – can be found in repentance, prayer, and tzedakah/charity.

As the final shofar sounds, like the cry of an infant, we can feel reborn and given a new chance for the year ahead. My teacher Reb Zalman called these holy days, a chance to “start a new incarnation in this lifetime.”

 Over the next ten days, we will repeat, “Zochreinu l’chaim - Remember us to Life, Sovereign who desires life, and write us in the book of life. I once read a powerful insight about this: in contrast to other Western Religions, Judaism is less focused on the afterlife. We aren’t here on our holiest days of the year to celebrate the ultimate triumph over death, but to offer the humble prayer that we will stick around for another year and hopefully make it a good one.

Now I’m not at all saying that Jews don’t believe in an afterlife, but it’s almost like multiple choice: as a Jew you can believe in resurrection, the journey of the soul back to its source, Gan Eden (heaven), Gehenna (hell – which is never eternal), reincarnation, all of the above, some of the above, or take a more humanistic view that we live on in our descendants, mentees, and deeds.

As Jews we mostly focus on this world, this life, the preciousness and power of every moment and every day. By setting aside these annual days of awe and holiness, days of remembrance – zikaron - we are reminded that every day of life is infinitely precious.

It’s remarkable that Judaism is so life-affirming, after two millennia that included a large measure of persecution and martyrdom.  Rabbi Yitz Greenberg, one of our most important living Jewish theologians, recently published his magnum opus on this theme, The Triumph of Life. He taught that after the Holocaust, the seeming triumph of death, the Jewish people could have given up. We felt abandoned by God and man and in turn we could have abandoned the covenant of life. But instead, we renewed our connection to the hidden divine, making it in his phrase, “a voluntary covenant.” We affirmed and increased life by rebuilding great Jewish communities around the world, particularly in Israel and North American. We rescued vulnerable Jewish populations from Yemen to the former Soviet Union to Ethiopia.

We entered even more fully into the modern world in dialogue with other religions and cultures. Rabbi Greenberg writes that upholding and expanding life is our central mitzvah, seeing each person as a creation of infinite value, equality, and uniqueness, and each interaction with the environment and other species as a chance to affirm the value of life.

I agree with Rabbi Greenberg that Judaism gifted the ancient world with the radical idea that each person, great or small, is created in the divine image and each life is a world entire. We still have much to teach the world about the value of preserving and enhancing life on this earth.     

But to paraphrase the great Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, we are sometimes like a messenger who has forgotten the message.

If we truly value life, we have a lot of work to do. It’s not enough to pray or sing about life and peace. In America, we need to join with all who work on making children safer from gun violence, poverty, and preventable disease. We must treasure and conserve the planet that our grandchildren will call home. We need to find ways to listen to and dialogue with people with whom we disagree, without resorting to ever more vile speech or violent acts.

For Jews who care about the future of Israel, we need to face the terrible toll of war, and to speak up, spotlight, and support the many Israelis demonstrating to end the war in Gaza. We need to help the peacemakers and revive a vision for making the next generation of Israeli and Palestinian children grow up as neighbors instead of mortal enemies.

Over the next 10 Days, we will learn, wrestle, and engage with the subject of L’Chaim-To Life! Tomorrow morning I will invite us to consider if our Judaism is too small in a world that continually challenges the value of life. On the Second Day of Rosh Hashanah program, we will learn some fascinating Talmudic sources that question if one life can ever take precedence over another.

On Kol Nidrei, I will speak about two historic rescues by boat and what they can teach us about our own responsibilities to save lives. And on Yom Kippur morning, I am very excited to be sharing a dialogue with a new Seaside member, Michael Johnston, who has been deeply involved in bridging ideological divides.

Rabbi Maurice Eisendrath, a great Reform rabbi and social activist of the 20^th century, wrote: “The world needs Judaism—its menschlichkeit [humanism] instead of the machismo of today’s ubiquitous violence; its optimism in the face of despair; its rachmanut [mercifulness] in the face of human callousness; its reverence for the life of the mind in defiance of emotionalism run riot; its love of learning and passion for justice; its intoxicating toast, l’chayim, ‘to life’; its hunger for peace as the apex of God’s kingdom; and its partnership with God in setting the world aright.”  His message rang true over 50 years ago but is strikingly relevant to this moment.

When we say L’Chaim this year, let us celebrate life, and rededicate ourselves to these Jewish core values and to making life better for all on this precious planet.