Tonight, I want to talk about joy. I want to talk to you about joy and laughter and silliness and the bright, brilliant radiance that bursts forth in moments of simchah. I want to tell you that joy is not superfluous or extra or selfish or only what we can make time for when the work is done. I want to tell you that joy is not reserved for our children or for our childhoods gone by. I want to tell you that God, that the spiritual power of the universe, the voice and spark of holiness inside of you, requires your joy. I want you to know that your joy matters.

In her book Atlas of the Heart, Brené Brown teaches that the Greek word for joy, chairo, means “good mood of the soul.” She defines it as “an intense feeling of deep spiritual connection, pleasure, and appreciation” and that through joy “we become more truly ourselves.” Through joy we become more truly ourselves.

When are you most truly yourself? I am not most myself when I am stressed or worried. Or when I’m running errands. Or when I’m paying the water bill or responding to emails. I feel most like me when I’m jumping with my kids after the Buffalo Bills score a touchdown. I am most me when Gavi and I are singing along to Rent. I am most me when I call a friend on my 7:58 drive to BJBE to hear about their latest success or milestone. I’m most me when I’m drumming on my podium at Shabbat and when I find the perfect alliterative title for an adult learning series during a staff meeting. I am most myself when I’m telling dad jokes to unwitting B’nai mitzvah students and when I go to Shabbat with the Chava Center.

I am most myself in moments of simchah. Simchah is embodied joy. It is joy that bursts out and is bright, shining, radiant. You, too, are most yourself when you experience joy.

And, I know, I know there is so much heaviness in the world. We know. We feel it in our hearts and in our bones. And our quest for joy does not diminish or ignore the brokenness of the world. Our joy is what can sustain us for the work ahead. There may be seasons in our lives when joy doesn’t come so easily. Even, or especially, after trying. And if you find yourself in one of those moments, know that you are seen and you are loved. No matter what season you find yourself in, the clergy, this community is here to support you and help find the care you need. We want to help you be the most you.

Tonight, as we gather to welcome in the new year, I have good news for you, the year ahead will be filled with joy, because joy sits at the core of our tradition and marks the flow of our year. It’s not just certain days that are specially classified as joyful. We have holidays to teach us and to prepare us for the lives we might lead. This is day 1 of 5783. And each day gives us a new opportunity for joy.

Coming up soon is day 10 of 5783. Yom Kippur. Definitely sacred. It’s solemn, somber, and heavy. It’s full of reflection and big words like repentance and atonement. But…joy? Well, on the one hand, we can rejoice because even though this day even the hosts of heaven are judged…we know the judge and it’s the same one who let us off last year!

But on Day 10, our sages actually direct our attention to day 163. A day that we might not as easily describe as sacred. It’s a day for costumes and cookies. For songs and games. Our rabbis tell us that Purim is the sacred equivalent of Yom haKippurim. Do you hear it? Yom—day, k’—like, Purim—purim. Yom Kippur is a day like Purim. Our tradition offers to us that our quest for joy can be just as sacred as work toward teshuvah.

What if we lived that? What if we truly believed joy to be sacred obligation? What if we took Purim as seriously as we take Yom haKippurim? What if we took our joy as seriously as our…seriousness?

What if instead of Yom Kippur, Purim was the day that schools closed? What if Purim was the day we felt our deepest obligation to be in the synagogue? And what if Purim was the day that parents had their special synagogue clothes on before the kids? And instead of loafers and heels, the sacred hall was full of…Chewbaccas, Moanas, and Buzz Lightyears? What if Purim was the time in the Jewish year when we knew we would see everyone and everyone came out of the woodwork scrambling for tickets for the most sacred day of the year?

What if that joy was what set the tone for the year? What if our clean slate and reset button was laughter and celebration? So consider this your invitation. In 162 days, come here to have your reserves of joy refilled. And know that you can rely on this synagogue community for a high-quality joy tune up.

Days 15 through 22 (or 23 depending on who you ask), give us another opportunity to direct our joy. On Sukkot, which begins exactly two weeks from today, we sit outside in a rickety hut and deal with rain and wind and bugs while we try to have a meal. Torah commands, v’samachta b’chagecha…v’hayitah ach sameach. On that day you shall rejoice in your holiday and surely you shall be joyful.

Really, Torah? In the wind and the rain, that’s z’man simchateinu, the time of our rejoicing? Sukkot, at its core, is our gratitude holiday. With our friends, family, and guests around the table, perhaps huddled under blankets or around the citronella candle, we are asked to see our abundance and celebrate in and with it.

Pirkei Avot asks us to change our perspective:

אֵיזֶהוּ עָשִׁיר, הַשָּׂמֵחַ בְּחֶלְקוֹ, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (תהלים קכח) יְגִיעַ כַּפֶּיךָ כִּי תֹאכֵל אַשְׁרֶיךָ וְטוֹב לָךְ

Who is rich? The one who rejoices in their lot. As it is said, “You shall enjoy the fruit of your labors, you shall be happy and it shall go well for you.”

Sukkot offers to us that we have enough. That we are enough. That we don’t need to give into the theology of more and can instead find joy in what we have. It doesn’t mean to relinquish ambition, but rather that alongside our work, we need time to see what we’ve built and created and…enjoy it. The gratitude we cultivate in Sukkot sets the stage for joy.

And there’s another day. One that was recently declared to me at the dinner table, to be my 4.5-year-old’s favorite. Benjamin likes it because he gets to eat chicken and zoom with his family. A special cookie probably doesn’t hurt. But, most of all, it’s his favorite because it comes every week. It’s on day 6 and day 13 and day 20 and day 104 and day 279…

The joy of Shabbat. Shabbat is a magical, sacred palace in time. A moment set aside not as a burden or an obligation but as an opportunity and a call to joy. Just listen to the words we use for Shabbat. After services we go out and have “oneg.” Do you know what oneg means? It doesn’t mean cookies and coffee and whatever delicious spread Karen Edidin has assembled for us. Oneg means…joy! It means delight! L’hitaneg b’tanugim. On Shabbat take delight in the delightful things! Maybe for you it’s that brownie that only ever appeared on a doily at your synagogue. Or maybe delight for you is the community and the schmoozing. Maybe the delight is in song and harmony. Or in study and curiosity. I also hear there is this thing called “introverts.” And maybe you delight in the quiet moments of reflection and peace.

יִשמְחוּ בְמַלְכוּתְךָ שׁומְרֵי שַׁבָּת וְקורְאֵי ענֶג

They shall rejoice in all that is Holy. Those who mark Shabbat will call Shabbat a delight.

Of course, we come to sacred community for moments of loss and healing. And when we are in a season of our lives that has space for joy…it is a sacred obligation to celebrate it. Each and every week. To make it regular. Not routine, but ritual. Sacred joy, laughter, and delight.

Benjamin asked me my favorite holiday. It comes on day 243 (one thing that brings me joy is unnecessary math). My joy is often the joy of Shavout. The holiday that commemorates the giving of Torah. And, no, it’s not because I’m a nerd rabbi who loves the Torah. Ok…it’s not just because I’m a nerd rabbi who loves Torah. I love Shavuot because we stay up late talking and eating cheese. And in those late night conversations we laugh and lose ourselves just a little and in doing so we find Truth. And in that moment of relationship, connection, and truth…I feel like me. And I love it.

What kind of joy is your joy? Which days will you mark on the calendar not as the one day to have joy, but the day that can teach and direct you for the year to come? How will you make a year for joy? And not to the exclusion of your other responsibilities. And not you facilitating someone else’s joy. And not a mere distraction or an escape. What makes for a good mood in your soul? What allows you to see and experience life more deeply and become more truly you? What makes bright, brilliant radiance burst forth from within you?

Friends. I know that 5783 will be a year of joy. Sometimes that joy will come easily. And sometimes even hearing that there should be joy can and will be painful. And our tradition knows that ache and that yearning, so it drops us hints and beckons us out of the valley toward light. 5783 will be a year of joy, because our tradition, our text, our calendar, the sacred way in which we mark time gives us opportunity after opportunity after opportunity to create and celebrate joy.

Joy is not superfluous or extra or selfish or only what we can make time for when the work is done. Joy is not reserved for our children or for our childhoods gone by. God, that the spiritual power of the universe, the voice and spark of holiness inside of you, requires your joy. Your joy matters. Your joy is sacred.

יהי רצון מלפניך ה' אלהינו ואלהי אבותינו ואמותינו שתחדש עלינו שנה מלא שמח

God and God of our ancestors, may this be a good year and a year full of joy.

Shanah tovah.