The Jewish holiday of Rosh HaShanah, literally meaning “the head of the year” in Hebrew, begins this Wednesday evening. It is the start of the Jewish year. Taken together with the preceding Jewish month of Elul and the holiday of Yom Kippur that begins next Friday evening, this time of year is dedicated to personal and communal reflection, honest assessment of the ways we show up in the world, and attempts to repair relationships.
That the Jewish tradition invites members of its community to begin each new year with a process of reflection offers important lessons about what it means to begin anew. Beginning anew requires us to see clearly who we are and what our lives mean, to determine where we have brought healing and connection to the world and where we have caused damage and separation, and to take concrete steps toward bringing our lived experience in alignment with the ideals and vision by which we seek to live.
At the beginning of this academic year, I shared some thoughts with Jewish-identifying students here at Williams. I did so after having conversations with many people both inside and outside of this community. It has been such a difficult year on this campus, and I’ve had the opportunity to work closely with many in the Jewish community for whom this year has been especially difficult. Because of that, I’ve been thinking about the actions and approaches that each of us can take to create space for ourselves and others in the College community. Most importantly, I think that we need to bring renewed attention to how we engage with each other.
What follows are some reflections I’ve been jotting down since the start of the summer. While these reflections deal most explicitly with the Jewish community, I hope that, in some small way, they play a role in how you interact with others in our community more widely, regardless of your identities or affiliations.
Here at Williams, our Jewish community is very diverse. Members of our community come from different kinds of homes, practice Judaism differently, and have different political commitments. Most of us are trying to figure out what being Jewish means, while living outside of the homes of our families of origin for the first time. Our community is intentionally pluralistic, and as a result, we foreground engagement with each other as human beings, encountering each other in the fullness of our humanity. Whatever you feel or believe; however you engage Judaism and Jewish identity; no matter which Jewish practices you follow, if any; whether you define yourself as Zionist, anti-Zionist, nuanced, passionate, confused, or agnostic about Israel — each of you belongs here and has a place here.
While we may disagree about things that are critically important to us as individuals, we must make an effort to engage those differences, striving never to forget that we are part of one community. That understanding requires that we see each other as human beings, deserving of dignity and respect, at all times. While this past year was not easy for us at Williams — I don’t think it was easy anywhere — I think this commitment has helped us move through the challenges. I trust that we will keep this in mind during this academic year.
To that end, this summer I’ve been thinking about qualities, or middot in Hebrew, that I think we should bring to the Jewish community and beyond to help us be there for one other and for us to get all that we can from being together. This is an incomplete list, but I think the following five middot are critical.
Humility: In the Jewish tradition, humility is not about meekness. Rather, it’s about being in your own place fully, which allows others to have their own place as well. Humility (anavah) invites us to recognize who we are and what we know and experience. It also invites us to see others in their place and to honor what they experience. It acknowledges that we are each the expert of our own experience, while reminding us that others may know a lot more than we do about a given thing.
Curiosity: Given what humility can teach us, we are invited to learn more about what we do not know. Alongside humility, curiosity (sakranut) reminds us that whatever we know or have learned, it is only a partial picture. Curiosity, especially when we are blessed to be at an institution of higher education, pushes us to always fill in the gaps of what we do not know by learning more.
Compassion: Compassion (rachamim) is having an awareness of and concern for the experience and the suffering of others. This can be hard enough to do with the people with whom we have relationships or live. I think that, over the past year, we have all seen the extent to which our compassion has limits. But I think it is critical that we work to extend our capacity to have compassion for others, especially those who are directly impacted by the events of Oct. 7, 2023, and its aftermath. To Israelis who were attacked and killed on Oct. 7 and their families and those forced to leave their homes. To Palestinians in Gaza, the West Bank, and Israel, who have faced death, violence, starvation, and discrimination. To Jews around the world who are traumatized by overt and terrifying expressions of antisemitism. To Palestinians living around the world who are also traumatized and feel ignored. As we are in connection with and relationship to all beings, our task is to expand our capacity for compassion, to be aware of their pain and suffering, as best as we can.
Respect: A commitment to compassion and humility must have, at its root, respect for the other (k’vod ha-bryiot). This includes those in our community and those beyond it. Those with whom we agree and those with whom we do not. Recognizing that all human beings are imprints of the divine, respect calls on us to maintain the dignity of others — even and especially in times of disagreement.
Sensitivity: These continue to be fraught times. In times of stress, when it is so easy to lash out, often we need awareness and sensitivity (regishut) to ourselves and to others. When we feel triggered and angry, we often react by shouting, posting something inflammatory on social media, or saying hurtful and harmful things. Inevitably, those behaviors lead others to shut down, prepare to fight, or further close down the possibility of connection. A call to sensitivity invites us to see when we and those with whom we are in relationship are triggered and to try to respond in ways that help us to connect.
Over the summer, I listened to a podcast in which the guests talked about how they navigate being part of a Jewish community alongside people whose politics they don’t always align with. I was especially moved to hear political activists who are committed to their positions offer valuable advice about the importance of foregrounding engagement with others. They spoke to the importance of speaking so that others can hear you and to the sense that everyone who wants to belong must feel welcome in the community. While you may not get all your needs met in a particular community, that doesn’t mean that you reject it, especially when that community is small. Similarly, they spoke to the importance of investing in your community so it can be the best it can be for everyone.
As the Jewish community enters into the high holidays of Rosh HaShanah and then Yom Kippur, I hope that we reflect upon these ideas. I hope that we can continue to learn with and from each other, even as we navigate the terrible events unfolding across the world and the conflicts that continue to roil our society.
Rabbi Seth Wax is the College’s Jewish Chaplain.
