My Last Kol Nidre

Kol Nidre 5785 – Awareness, Appreciation, and Action

Rabbi Joseph R. Black – Temple Emanuel - Denver, CO

October 11, 2025

My Dear Friends – L’shanah Tovah and G’mar Chatimah Tovah!

This is the last Kol Nidre sermon I will deliver as your rabbi. As I think about July 1st, 2025 when I will join Rabbi Foster as a Rabbi Emeritus of Temple Emanuel, I realize that the coming year will be filled with many “lasts”: 

·      The last b’nai mitzvah,

·      the last shabbat service,

·      the last funeral,

·      The last conversion student

·      or hospital visit, or baby naming

And all of these will be poignant and powerful. The last wedding at which I will be officiating while I am still Sr. Rabbi will be in June - and it will be extra special because my son, Ethan will stand with his beloved Zahava Davis under the Chuppah - here in this sanctuary – as I co-officiate with Zahava’s father, Rabbi Michael Davis of Wichita, Kansas. Ethan and Zahava met 8 years ago at Shwayder Camp where he was Songleader and she was Assistant Director, so the multiple layers of joy and fulfillment that this simcha represents are truly overwhelming.

As I think about all the “lasts” that will take place over the course of the next 262 days until I retire, I can’t help also thinking about some of the “firsts” that have brought me to this moment.

It seems like only yesterday that I began my journey to the Rabbinate as a student at the Hebrew Union College- Jewish Institute of Religion. How could it have been 42 years ago?  That seems absurd! While in rabbinical school, I began to learn what it meant to be a rabbi – and the truth is, I am still learning – even at this point in my career.

In Seminary, my classmates and I learned to study sacred text. We immersed ourselves in liturgy, philosophy, theology, and Jewish history. We studied Hebrew and Aramaic grammar, Talmud, Midrash, Mishnah and even Kabbalah. We immersed ourselves in Educational Theory and Homiletics. But as thorough and wonderful as our education was, there were some things we could never be taught. No one told us about the possibility of

·     September 11th, 2001 – the day that changed the world as we knew it;

·     A rise in anti-Semitism – in America and around the world;

·     A global pandemic that forced us to retool everything we did overnight in order to serve the needs of communities in crisis;

·     Political unrest in our country that threatens the very foundations of Democracy;

·     The State of Israel facing an existential crisis that questions the validity and foundations of Zionism…

….just to name a few…..  we had no choice but to learn on the job– fumbling along with everyone else. And this process has never stopped. I learn more every day.

I am fortunate that, throughout my career, I have been blessed with some wonderful partners – both lay and professional

·        in Minneapolis,

·        In Albuquerque,

and, of course here in Denver where the talents of Cantor Elizabeth Sacks, Rabbi Emily Hyatt, Cantorial Soloist, Steve Brodsky, Executive director Steve Stark, Rabbi Emeritus Steven Foster – and everyone on our professional and lay leadership teams inspire me daily.

We have grown together. We have seen successes and taken on difficult challenges – but through it all, we have learned from one another and every experience – and we have strived to apply that knowledge and share its wisdom with all of you. I am thrilled that our Board of Trustees has chosen Rabbis Sacks and Hyatt to succeed me as we go from strength to strength.

This past year, in addition to celebrating our 150th anniversary, we also have been holding our collective breaths. Each day following the horrific events of October 7th has left us filled with dread as we anxiously seek out news about the fate of the hostages and an end to this war. This past Monday, on the anniversary of that tragedy, this sanctuary was filled to overflowing as our greater Denver Jewish community came together to commemorate, grieve, remember, and recommit ourselves to one another and to the State of Israel.  October 7th has changed us– and, in many ways – it has also kept us frozen in our tracks as we have prayed for the release of the hostages and a pathway – if not to peace, then at least to some kind of resolution that will allow for the rebuilding of destroyed communities – on all  sides of all borders – Israeli, Palestinian, and Lebanese. At the same time, we cannot ever give up our hope for peace – with two States – Israeli and Palestinian – living side by side.

October 7th and its aftermath has also provided an added layer of complexity as I reflect on my last year in the pulpit. While I know that retirement is the correct decision for me, my family, and Temple Emanuel, it is difficult to leave at a time when there is so much chaos taking place all around us. 

And so, as I thought about this sermon, I must tell you, I was not sure what to say. Even though I will not be retiring until the end of June, this is the largest crowd I will address from this pulpit. So, the pressure is on. What do I need to share, and, more important, what do you need to hear from me tonight?

Many people have asked me what I plan to do when I retire. When asked this question, Rabbi Jack Stern – of blessed memory used to say that he was going to finish his book. People would ask: “Are you writing a book?” His response: “No, I am just trying to read one!”  For the past 37 years in the pulpit (42 – if you count the time I spent in Rabbinical school), my time has not been my own. Being a member of the clergy is more than a full-time job.

Now, I’m not complaining – I love being a rabbi and, as Cantor Sacks so beautifully said on Rosh Hashanah, it is a calling, not a profession. But when I wake up on the morning of July 1st it will feel strange – even disorienting– but I know that I’ll get used to it.

While I don’t have a full plan yet, I do know that I will be composing, recording, and sharing my music with others. Over the course of my rabbinic career, I have often struggled to balance service to my congregation with my creative self. Music has all too often taken a back seat to the needs of the communities I have served – as it should have. After retirement, I will have more time to dedicate to creative pursuits. (Although Sue has informed me that she has a long list of things for me to accomplish at home…but that’s another story…)

One goal that I have also set for myself early in retirement is to actually write a book based on a concept that I have been presenting at various songwriting and music conferences for the past several years. The tentative title of the book is “The Spirituality of Creativity” and my hope is that it will shed some light on the sacred work of artists, musicians, writers, and anyone else who feels called to create.

You see, I have found that responding to the call of my creative impulse has led me to find holiness in the most unexpected places and moments.

Spirituality is a difficult concept to grasp. It can mean many different things to different people. The author and lecturer Dr. Brene Brown, in her book, The Gifts of Imperfection[i] writes that: 

“Spirituality is recognizing and celebrating that we are all inextricably connected to each other by a power greater than all of us, and that our connection to that power and to one another is grounded in love and compassion.” 

I like her definition – it’s a good place to start, but it is also incomplete. For the gift of spirituality to be fully actualized, it needs to not only be connected with others - it has to be shared as well. This is where the line between creativity and spirituality becomes blurred. All art, all creative acts reflect our relationship with the world around us and, ultimately, its source.

As such, I have come up with my own definition of spirituality that I want to share with you on this holiest night of the year.

My definition of spirituality is based on three principles – all conveniently beginning with the letter “A”:

·        Awareness

·        Appreciation, and

·        Action

Awareness begins with Dr. Brown’s definition – understanding that we are all connected to each other by a power greater than ourselves. But, as I just said, that, in and of itself, is not enough. Judaism teaches that every aspect of our lives  - everything we do - has the potential for holiness – if we allow ourselves to find it. This happens all the time, and every day. We have blessings for everything – from waking up in the morning, to going to sleep at night; from tasting the first fruits of the season, to affixing a mezuzah to the door posts of our homes – our tradition teaches us to open up ourselves and our souls to the presence of something larger than ourselves – wherever and whenever we look.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, in this seminal work, The Sabbath, teaches that a key component of spiritual awakening arises out of an understanding that, although we spend much of our time creating, for one day of the week – on shabbat – we stop our labors and focus on the fact that we are created. Our task, as spiritual beings, is to see the world around us with a sense of awe and wonder. We crave God’s presence in our lives, and we constantly search for it. This is reflected in our sacred texts:

·      Jacob, awakening from a dream where he saw a ladder reaching up to the heavens cries out: “Wow!  God is in this place and I – I did not know it!”

·      Sarah, Rebekah, and Rachel all cry out to God in desperation as they pray for a child – and their prayers are answered.

·      Moses pleads with God to show him the divine countenance so that he will be able to better understand God’s ways, and all of God’s glory passes before him as he stands on the rock.

·      In the depths of his aloneness, the prophet Elijah hears a “Still Small Voice” that reassures him of God’s presence.

But this doesn’t only happen in the Bible. There are times when we are all acutely aware of the spiritual gifts in our lives  - moments of both joy and sorrow:

·   Holding a newborn child or grandchild

·   Celebrating a young person becoming B’nai mitzvah

·   Standing under the chuppah at a child’s wedding

·   Standing silently, shovel in hand, as the casket of a loved is lowered into the earth, and hearing the heartbreaking thud of dirt as it hits the coffin – the pain and loss we feel reflects the gift we have been given by sharing in their lives;

·   Even standing at this pulpit for the last time on Kol Nidre….

All of these moments are infused with hyper awareness of both the joyous gift of life – and the unbearable pain of loss. Sometimes these two experiences are blurred, and yet, it is the fact that we are attuned to both joy and sorrow that we begin to understand just how so many different sacred strands are woven into our lives.

In the Torah we find that we are created in God’s image[ii]. Rabbinic tradition adds to this by positing that an even greater gift than creation itself is our awareness that we were created in God’s image. Once our eyes have been opened to this fundamental concept, we are forever changed. And it is this change that moves us to the next component in understanding our spiritual selves – from Awareness to Appreciation.

Appreciation means responding to the gift of awareness. One of the many lessons that my mother, of blessed memory, drilled into my head was the importance of writing thank-you-notes. When we receive a gift, we must acknowledge it and give thanks. When we understand the beauty, fragility, and uniqueness of the gift of our own creation, we have no choice but to find avenues of expression – to give thanks for the blessing of our very existence.

·   We show our appreciation when we share our lives with others.

·   We show our appreciation with words of prayer

·   We show our appreciation by living lives of meaning and purpose – utilizing the finite moments of our experience – savoring the good – and even the bad …

– because life is fleeting, precious and rare. The older I get, the more I understand this profound truth.

There is a reason that so many of our prayers are about giving thanks. The act of acknowledging the gifts we have been given puts us in relationship with the source of those gifts:  with God – or however you choose to define the Divine.

To understand the miraculous nature of our lives is to realize that we have no choice but to adopt an attitude of gratitude for the blessings that surround us. We are compelled to say thank you – to show our appreciation to the source of life - even when we are not sure where to direct our thanks. And when we have to face sorrow and pain – as we all do – the memories of the blessings we have experienced can give us strength, hope, and appreciation when we contrast them to our current situation. There is a reason that the mourner’s kaddish is not about death, but rather about extolling the God who gives us life, meaning and purpose.

But acknowledging – giving thanks – is still not enough… Once we have been given a gift and shown our appreciation, the next step is to share these gifts with others - to work to make the world a better place – what our tradition calls Tikkun Olam- the repair of our all too imperfect world. And so, we move from Appreciation to ACTION.

If we do not work to improve the world, we are forsaking the gift of life itself. In Judaism, true spirituality is not about separating ourselves from others – achieving a higher level of consciousness and reveling in the marvel of our mindfulness. Have you ever wondered why there are no Jewish monasteries? The Torah takes a dim view of monastic life. It is all but forbidden[iii]. The reason for this is that in order for our lives to have meaning and purpose, we need to be present in the world, and act to make it a better place.

·   Is there a cause, or a candidate about which you are passionate? Volunteer!

·   Is there an organization that makes your life better? (Perhaps a synagogue…) Get involved! Donate!

·   Is there a way that you can improve the lives of those around you? Find it!

·   Is there a way for each of us, especially at this liminal time of Yom Kippur, to find new ways to give back – in thanks and appreciation for the good that we have received?

And yes, as I have asked you - every year on Yom Kippur - are there relationships in our lives that are broken – that need to be repaired? On this Kol Nidre eve, let is take some time and think about how we all might be able to bridge the painful gaps that come from shutting out – or being shut out – by the most important people in our lives. Do it now! Before it is too late!

Taking action to repair the brokenness in our world and in ourselves is more than simply a good deed – it is an act of Spiritual connectedness. It is prayer incarnate.

Connecting with our spiritual selves is not easy. God (however you define God) can be illusive. Sometimes God is distant and hard to find.  Other times – such as this moment right now – God’s presence is overwhelming. Over the past 14 years that I have served as your Sr. Rabbi, I have truly been blessed. This is a remarkable community. You have nurtured my soul and helped me to find the spirituality that puts everything in perspective. For this, I offer you my deepest thanks, gratitude, and love. And most importantly, for the times that I have NOT been there for you – when I have let you down – knowingly or not – please forgive me.

I would never have been able to be present for you – or to understand the meaning and power of Spirituality - without my family:

·    My beloved wife, Sue – who nurtures and sustains me, shares my dreams, calls out my bullsh…(pause) my hubris, serves as my greatest cheerleader and, when necessary, my toughest critic, and has been by my side throughout this entire journey. Being a rabbi’s spouse is not easy. There have been too many times when the needs of the congregation have overshadowed our ability to be together. I look forward to finally being able to do simple things like sit together at services. I am blessed by her love and support every day.

·    My children, Elana and Greg, and Ethan and soon – Zahava, are all remarkable human beings whose values, humanity and love I cherish. Being the children of clergy is never easy. People think they know you and, all too often, boundaries are crossed. Many Clergy kids feel a need to rebel and reject their faith because they see it as barrier to family togetherness.  But they have not.  I feel so blessed to see them growing into amazing adults who care deeply about Judaism, their values, and their ability make a difference in the world.

·    And, of course, my perfect grandson, Ezra - who has shown me more of God’s presence in the past 15 months than I ever could have imagined.

My Dear Friends, over the course of this next year, as I prepare for the next stage of my life as a Rabbi Emeritus, I know that we will have many opportunities to connect, to study, to laugh, and maybe even to shed a few tears together. But as we do, let us try to understand that everything we do can and should be done with Appreciation, Acknowledgement and Action.

Thank you for the privilege of partnering with all of you in this sacred covenant:

·      Together we have searched for God.

·      Together we have worked to make the world a better place.

·      Together we have shared our lives – in joy and in sorrow – and I cannot be more grateful for the trust you have placed in me and my rabbinate,

On this holiest night of the year, I stand before you with joy, humility, and gratitude in my heart.

I want to conclude with a song that I wrote a few years ago about the meaning and purpose of the search for God’s presence: It’s called

God Plays Hide and Seek[iv]

Link to the song:  

 https://youtu.be/AQOCBO9RuDc?si=W36D6AxlsYjqOnp6

God plays hide and seek

Leaving trails of crumbs for us to find

With twists and turns along a crooked road that winds

Among the valleys and the peaks

God plays hide and seek

God plays hard to get

With feigned indifference to our daily toil

Like a pot- you watch it, but it never boils

Like a sideways silhouette

God plays hard to get

But even when you’re halfway thru the race

And you find yourself in hot pursuit

Just take some time and think about the chase

It's not the finish line you seek- it's each step along the route

God plays fast and loose

The rules change daily at a moment's whim

There's no devotion, prayer, or ancient hymn

To bring about a truce

When God plays fast and loose.

G’mar Chatimah Tovah – may we all be sealed for a blessing in the book of life.

Amen

[i] Brown, Brene, The Gifts of Imperfection, Hazeldon Books, Minneapolis, MN 2010

[ii] See Genesis 1:27

[iii] See Numbers 6:21

[iv] From the CD, Praying With Our Feet. Words and Music © 2016  - Rabbi Joe Black – Lanitunes Music (ASCAP)

All Rights Reserved.