Posted on October 22, 2025
Endings and Beginnings
(edited from the text that was delivered)
At this time of year in the Jewish calendar it is inevitable that we think about beginnings and endings. Rosh Hashanah marks simultaneously the end of one year and the beginning of a New Year. It also marks the start of our Ten Days of Repentance, with Yom Kippur serving as its conclusion. Only at the end of that day of fasting are we truly able to enter into the New Year, having existed in a liminal space of judgement, reflection, and repentance until then. But our calendar is not done yet, and this past week we celebrated the festival of Simchat Torah, which is simultaneously the end and the beginning of our Torah reading cycle.
There is something so interesting about the way that we end our cycle of Torah. We conclude the Book of Deuteronomy reading about the death of Moses and the fact there has never been another prophet like him. And we end the story with the people on the other side of the Jordan River. We are left waiting to find out what happens next.
Normally reaching the end of a book or the end of a cycle of learning would be a reason to celebrate. When Jews conclude the cycle of studying the Talmud there is a huge party. In 2020 one group took over Met Life Stadium for their Talmud celebration.
But there is no celebration when we conclude the cycle of reading Torah. Instead, we immediately go back to the very beginning of the story and restart our cycle with God creating the world. There are traditions that the last word of Deuteronomy and the first word of Genesis should be read in the same breath, so that we don’t even stop to mark the ending. Instead, the celebration only commences once we have begun reading the Torah again. Safely back in the Torah reading cycle, having heard the words of Genesis, we can dance with the Torah and celebrate the ending and the beginning.
In reality, the return to the beginning of Bereishit, of Genesis, is one of two ways in which we conclude our Torah reading cycle. In traditional settings there is also a Haftarah reading for the festival, which is taken from the Book of Joshua and allows for the continuation of the story. The Book even begins with the words: “After the death of Moses.” We continue the story of the Israelites so that they are not left languishing on the other side of the Jordan, and instead we commence the story of their entry into the Promised Land.
In the ending and beginning of our Torah reading cycle we simultaneously begin again and continue the story. Holding two realities at the same time.
For the Jewish community today, Simchat Torah is tragically now synonymous with endings and beginnings in a new way. 2023 and the terrible terrorist attack which took place on that festive day marked the end of one period of Israel’s history and the beginning of a new one. That day ushered in a new era for Israel, for Diaspora-Jewish communities, and in many ways for the entire Middle East – we still don’t yet fully know what the end result will be. And then this year, with the return of the last remaining living hostages and the beginning of a ceasefire – which we hope and pray will hold, it marked the ending of the war, the ending of captivity for 20 of our brothers, and the ending of two years marked by so much pain and suffering.
Monday was a good day. Watching the videos of the 20 hostages returning to the loving embrace of their friends and families brought tears to my eyes and a sense of relief at the ending of their ordeal. It was a day that was worthy of celebration, and there was definitely an extra feeling of joy as we danced with the Torah scrolls that evening. And in Israel the ceasefire also meant that many of the reservist soldiers, who have served for so many months over the last two years, were finally able to begin returning home and back to their “regular” lives.
The fact that the fighting has stopped is a source of comfort. The fact that there are no more living hostages to be tortured by Hamas is a source of comfort. The fact that the war is over (at least for now) and that people can return to their homes and lives is a source of comfort.
But just a few days removed from the joy of Monday, I am not feeling in the mood to celebrate anymore.
I am sure that my remarks this evening have been impacted by the experience of seeing the Nova exhibit in Boston earlier today. Hearing testimony from a survivor, watching videos of the people who went out to dance but never returned home, reading about the atrocious attack that was perpetrated, and seeing photographs of the victims – have all served to bring that feeling of heaviness back to me. If you are thinking about attending the exhibit while it is in Boston, I would strongly recommend going to bear witness, but I would also caution that it is heavy and painful and so sad.
But I had begun writing this sermon before entering the exhibition.
I have been struggling with the mix of emotions that I have experienced this week. And in wanting to talk about beginnings and endings, I am aware that this is not yet the final ending. I am still wearing my dog tag because there are still 18 families waiting to be able to bury their loved ones. I still have my #bringthemhomenow bracelet on my wrist because not all of them have come home. And In Israel this Saturday evening the protesters will again gather in Hostage Square because they recognize the obligation to return the bodies of the dead hostages as well. It’s not yet the final ending, but perhaps it is the beginning of the final chapter of this sorry story.
The challenge with endings as demonstrated by Simchat Torah is the question of what comes next. What will follow the conclusion of this story? What will now be written? How will we move forward from this experience?
There is something so appealing with the way we end our cycle of reading Torah. We go back to the beginning. Back to a familiar story. Back to something that we already know. We do not linger in the uncertainty of the ending, instead we return to the certainty of the beginning of a story which has already been written, told, recited, and learned.
Oh how I wish that we could go back to October 6, 2023. I wish that we could return to the world as it was. I wish that we could return to the innocence of the time before hostages, before unimaginable terrorist atrocities, before the devastation of Gaza. I wish that we could erase the experiences of these last two years and the way they’ve changed Israel, changed our world, changed our country, and changed us.
But in our lives, we don’t ever get to go back to the beginning. Instead, with our endings we are forced to confront a new beginning. A new world, which while it may seem familiar also feels so different. A new situation, which while it carries elements of the time before also is filled with so much that is different. A new reality, which is unfamiliar, unsettling, and disorienting.
We cannot follow the cycle of Torah back to the beginning, but instead we have to turn the page and step forward into the uncertain future. We have to read the Book of Joshua and replicate the Israelite experience – continuing on their journey without Moses to guide them, with no certainty of what lies ahead, and with no guarantees of what the future will bring.
We all need to recognize the way our world has changed in these past two years and the fact that it is impossible to go back to the beginning and the way that it was. We have to confront this new world with open eyes, open hands, and an open heart to whatever it might bring.
Personally, I believe there will be a need for us to help with the rehabilitation of Israel and her people who have been traumatized by the experience of these last two years. I believe there will be a need to confront the specter of antisemitism that has been unleashed and will not simply be put away because the war has ended. I believe there will be a need to repair the relationship between Israel and the Diaspora, which has been challenged by the experience of these last two years. I believe there will be a need for all of us to confront the ways in which we have personally – individually and communally – been changed by the antisemitism and hate that has re-emerged. And I believe there will be a need to work again to secure a peace for all the peoples of the Middle East so that their children will have a better future.
We have to be honest in recognizing how daunting a task all of that will be. While chapters were closed on Monday there is still so much work to be done. And we have to confront the anxiety that comes with stepping forward into the unknown. Because with every new beginning, we can never know what the ending will ultimately be.
We can take solace from the book of Joshua, knowing that we have always continued on this journey to the Promised Land. We can hear his words of chazak vamatz – be strong and have courage – two traits we are going to need in abundance to face this new world. And we can follow his example by stepping forward bravely into the unknown, with the faith that we will be entering a Promised Land.
But to go back to the very beginning and our story of creation, we are told that at the end of the first day of Adam and Eve’s life they began to grow fearful and to panic.[1] As they saw the sun setting in the sky they cried out to God fearing that the world would be returning to darkness and desolation. They began to weep anticipating the end of the world. But as the sky darkened, suddenly they saw thousands of twinkling lights in the sky up above, and the moon began to shine. They realized that the world was not ending, but instead something new was beginning. And then as the night came to an end they looked to the east and saw the most beautiful sunrise as the sun began to grow in the sky. It was a new day; it was a different day. But there was light and there was potential and possibility in this new day that was dawning.
Endings and beginnings are difficult, they force us to live in the liminal space between a known past and an uncertain future. For our Biblical ancestors the ending required them to leave the familiarity of the wilderness and Moses’ leadership, and to step forward with Joshua at the helm into the uncertainty of the Promised Land. We face a similar challenge and moment. It won’t always be easy and I am sure that there will be bumps along the way. But as long as we keep focused on the vision of a Promised Land, as long as we remain true to the values that guide us, and as long as we support each other on this journey I know that we will make sure that this is the beginning of something special, something sacred, something that will bring blessing into this world.
Ken Yehi Ratzon – May it be God’s will.
Today, at the Nova exhibit we had the privilege of hearing from a survivor Onn Brichner who ended his remarkable story of survival and recovery with this idea. If you take a room full of light and put in it a little bit of darkness, it makes no difference; but if you take a room full of darkness and put in it a little bit of light it will make the whole difference. And only by light can we win over the darkness.
[1] This is an adaptation of the midrash in Talmud Avoda Zarah 8a