“And month by moonlit month, And Sabbath after Sabbath, All souls shall gather, drawn like tides, To bow, to sing, to seek the Holy. So says the Eternal.” — Isaiah 66:23
As the month of Elul begins, we enter a season not only of reflection, but of return—a time to begin again, to take stock, and to turn our attention toward ourselves, the other, and the Divine. This year, we invite you to journey through Elul with us by way of the moon.
Each week, as the moon shifts through its phases, we’ll send an offering: a text to ground us in the wisdom of our teachers, a poem or song to stir the heart toward beauty, and a question to carry with you into the week.
These constellations of wisdom, beauty, and inquiry are meant to help us pause, attune to sacred time, and prepare our spirits for the High Holidays. As the moon waxes and wanes, so too does the inner work of this season, inviting us to notice and grow.
As we head toward 5786, may the moon’s ancient, steady rhythm guide us into the year.
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It is no coincidence that Elul—and every new month in the Jewish calendar—begins not with the illuminating presence of the full moon, but with the new moon, defined by the absence of light. Our Rosh Chodesh rhythms teach us that dark times—perhaps especially the darkest times—can hold the potential for resilience, discovery, and beginning anew.
This Elul, what does it mean to seek renewal not apart from the darkness, but from within it?
—Rabbi Healy Slakman
Week 2: Quarter Waxing MoonOur sages teach that the month of Elul, אלול, is an acronym for the Hebrew phrase found in the Song of Songs:
Ani l’dodi, v’dodi li: אני לדודי ודודי לי
I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.
Throughout the High Holy Days, the primary metaphor that we use for God is of King – enthroned, on high, passing judgment. Yet this month, we have another metaphor: God as beloved partner. What if God is more like an equal, our loving yet imperfect other half who sometimes forgets to put away the dishes? In the light of this waxing moon, perhaps we can imagine God awaiting us at the end of a long day, greeting us not with a sigh of reproach but with a tender embrace.
—Rabbi Samantha Frank
Week 3: Full MoonDo you remember how, when you were a child, you felt a sense of wonder that wherever you would go, the big full moon would still follow you, trailing along? Now, as an adult, do you ever still feel that sense of awe at the universe?
As we reach the midpoint of Elul, under the bright light of the full moon, we take a moment to revel in the wondrousness of it all.
—Rabbi Dr. Kari Tuling
What could be more ordinary than saying “I am”? And yet those words carry a whole world inside them. Two short syllables, easy to overlook, yet they hold the weight of a life: memories and regrets, longings and fears, joys and hopes.
The Torah tells us that God speaks these very words at the burning bush. When Moses asks for God’s name, the answer seems simple: “Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh (I Am Who I Am).” But simplicity here is an illusion. Folded inside those words is a great mystery: the mystery of being.
That mystery has never stopped echoing. Below, Marilynne Robinson describes the haunting “I” that wakes us at night. Walt Whitman writes of the self, vast and overflowing. And Torah begins it all by insisting that even God’s name is bound up with the power of saying “I am.”
To say these words is never just to state a fact. It is to open a doorway into the fullness of being alive. And it is the very doorway we try to enter during the High Holiday season.
—Rabbi Josh Beraha