Today on the Jewish calendar marks the beginning of a new lunar month, the second month of the liturgical year. The month of Tishri, which just concluded, is far and away the busiest time of the Jewish year, abounding in festivals and observances and characterized by a wide range of religious emotions – on Rosh Hashanah (the New Year) and on the fast day of Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement), consciousness of our failings, penitence, striving for forgiveness and reconciliation, awareness of our mortality and anxiety about our destiny in the year to come; on the festival of Sukkot (the Feast of Booths), gratitude for the gifts of the harvest; and on the concluding festival of Simchat Torah (Rejoicing with the Torah), joyful celebration as the scrolls are carried around the synagogue in procession and the annual cycle of reading from the Five Books of Moses is concluded and immediately recommenced.
To borrow (and likely misapply) a term from the Catholic liturgical tradition, we are now beginning a lengthy two-month stretch of “ordinary time.” There are no holidays occurring until Chanukah, which this year commences on the evening of Dec. 4. The flow of ordinary days will be punctuated only by the joy of the weekly Sabbath on Friday evening and Saturday.
After the larger crowds attending services have dispersed, the white mantles on the Torah scrolls and the white table covers have been replaced with the year-round ones, the sounds of the special holiday music have faded, and the holiday prayer books have been returned to storage, how do we maintain our fervor, our sense of dedication and our commitment? How do we follow through on our resolve to change ourselves for the better? Where do we find our inspiration and encouragement, and where do we find our joy?
Failing to live up to our vows and commitments, losing our resolve over the course of time are not uncommon. The holiday prayer book that we used for many years in my congregation expresses it well: “From mountain peaks of fervor we fell to common ways at the close of the fast.”
Regretfully, I have no easy answers. I have never underestimated the challenges and obstacles that stand in the way of meaningful personal change, but I still believe that change is possible. I have come to realize that moments of intense joy are few and far between and that in our lives, inevitably, we experience both joys and sorrows, but I believe that for many of us (and I would hope for most) small joys are all around and accessible to us in our everyday experience.
For religious Jews the disciplines of daily prayer and of reciting blessings on any occasion when it is appropriate to be thankful impart a sense of gratitude, foster joy and fortify our commitment to maintaining our resolve. For the religious and the secular alike, I believe that looking at life and our world with a sense of wonder and finding friends who encourage us in our worthy endeavors and help us to grow are the key to an enriching and worthwhile life.
Rabbi Barry Marks is rabbi emeritus of Temple Israel in Springfield.
This article appears in October 8-14, 2026.
