Hoshana Raba - Prayers of Gratitude and for Ongoing Intervention

Hoshana Rabba is a holiday within a holiday that falls on the sixth day of Sukkot. On Hoshana Rabba we pray for rain throughout a very, very, very long service—like three hours long. Every year during winter, when we draft the calendar for the following fall, our calendar team debates whether to have school on Hoshana Rabba, which is also Erev Shemini Atzeret and would therefore only be a half day of school. Most Jewish day schools are closed on this day for the many aforementioned reasons. But I like having school on "weird" Jewish days, like Hoshana Rabba, which includes the ritual of smacking the aravot (willows) from our lulav bunch on the ground like maniacs. Even the most creative of Jewish experiential educators can't think up something as crazy as this—it's perfect Jewish education. So I win every year. We are open on Hoshana Rabba. I take the opportunity to annoy our students all day by tapping them on the back of the ear with a long willow branch when they least notice. It's the best.

I could not have imagined how much we needed to be in school this Hoshana Rabba, which was earlier this week on Monday, the day all remaining living hostages were returned to Israel. Being Hoshana Rabba, we had already planned to sing Hallel in all grades. Hallel is the quintessential Jewish prayer of celebratory praise, recited on Rosh Chodesh and almost all holidays. This Hoshana Rabba, we had double reason to sing Hallel—in addition to commemorating our ancient holiday with this song of praise, we recited the words with the immediate sense of gratitude for the relief we have been waiting for for two years.

Over these past two years since October 7, our students have added prayer upon prayer: first for the hostages, then for the soldiers, then for peace, and finally for people in Gaza. We have recited newly written prayers alongside ancient ones. One of the many things that has broken my heart these past two years is watching our middle schoolers recite all these prayers—the misheberachs and the tehilim—by heart. They have them memorized. It has been so long. This year, in addition to bringing our middle school minyanim together to sing Hallel as we always do, we called all students in grades K–8 to share the moment. To recite the prayer of "matir asurim," thanking God for their role in releasing captives. To sing Hallel. And then to spontaneously dance in concentric circles with one of our teachers, Tzachi, in the middle playing his guitar and singing "veshavu banim ligvulam"—and the children will return to their land.

With all this gratitude and joy and relief, many of us—those in our community, in the broader Jewish community, in Israel, and in Gaza—remain carrying a heavy weight. Ironically, healing is a painful process. It is long, arduous, and not assured for individuals or societies. There is still much more to pray for. There are still psalms to be memorized.

Nonetheless, there is a reason to celebrate this moment. Every moment that is even a little better than the one before deserves recognition, gratitude, and praise. And when these moments come as a respite to extreme suffering, they also deserve a ritual.

We have ritualized our collective prayers in many ways over the past few years—in marches, in prayers, in vigils, in donations, in personal support, in signs, and in pins. Each of us, at our own pace, deserves to ritualize the winding down of these rituals, even as new ones may be created for the upcoming needs.We have been thinking about what this might look like for the Beit Rabban community, and we have an idea I'd like to share with you. We will be dedicating a wall in our community lounge on the second floor of our building to mark this moment of transition to better days. We invite everyone in our community to bring their pins, signs, dog tags, t-shirts, etc. when they are ready to be incorporated into an installation that combines memorial and celebration. Drop off your items in the bin provided, take a moment to meditate or say one of the provided prayers, and ritualize this transition. We will include your offerings in this communal project, with the following words from Tehillim written on the wall:

אַתָּ֣ה תָ֭קוּם תְּרַחֵ֣ם צִיּ֑וֹן כִּי־עֵ֥ת לְ֝חֶֽנְנָ֗הּ כִּי־בָ֥א מוֹעֵֽד

Rise up and be compassionate to Zion because it is time to give her grace. The time has come.

Psalms 102

These words are as much an expression of gratitude as they are a prayer for God's ongoing intervention.