Shabbat Shalom!
I’ve never been a preteen girl. Neither has our daughter, Nora. So, needless to say, we are on an interesting and sometimes unpredictable ride as we all try to navigate whatever the mood and temperature of the day may bring. In moments of emotions and drama, there is one thing we frequently guide Nora to do: “sit down, close your eyes, and take a deep breath.” It’s great exercise and we can literally watch the angst melt from her while she is breathing in … and out.
This Shabbat, I am going to take my own advice and take … a breath.
This week has been unlike any other. The release of our remaining living hostages filled us with a complicated mix of relief and heartbreak. We exhaled at the sight of joyful faces once in darkness, now home. But our breaths remain shallow, weighted by the pain of those who have not returned and the reality of uncertainty that accompanies the next steps of the peace plan.
In the Talmud we are reminded: “Even when a sword rests upon a person’s neck, they should not despair of mercy.” Our people have carried that teaching in our bones for generations. It is what allows us to hope, to act, and to gather for simchas even when the world feels unbearably heavy.
For many of us, the emotional toll of the last two years has been relentless, like holding our breath without realizing it. We have lived in a state of vigilance, fear, and deep communal responsibility. But as we mark this Shabbat, I want to invite us to reclaim something simple but profoundly Jewish: the sanctity of rest, the permission to exhale.
Shabbat has always been more than a day off. It is a divine commandment to pause and to allow the world to be as it is. The Torah tells us, “On the seventh day, God ceased from work and was refreshed.” The word used for “refreshed,” vayinafash, also means to breathe, to restore the soul.
Many of us have dreams, hobbies, or joys we’ve set aside since October 7—Italian classes, learning pickleball, joining a board, traveling, creating. These are pieces of ourselves we’ve put on hold because the weight of the world left little room for anything else. As we work to rebuild Israel and the region, and support all those whose lives have been shattered, we must also give ourselves permission to rebuild ourselves.
Rebuilding a nation requires resolve. Rebuilding a community requires unity. Rebuilding a soul requires breath.
This Shabbat, may we all take a deep, much needed breath. May we honor those we’ve lost by choosing life and may the stillness of Shabbat remind us that even amidst grief, there is room for joy, growth, and renewal.
Shabbat Shalom,
Danny Cohn
President & CEO
Jewish Federation of St. Louis