Rabbi Aaron

Fall '24/Winter '25

After the holidays, I can't help but feel a bit of relief. However, I want to say how amazing it was to stand before you all and be your rabbi. While it is my duty to serve Kehilat Yisrael, the greater community-at-large of all Israel, it is an honor to serve the Beth El community of Hollywood. As we move into the heart of fall and prepare for the coming winter, I am reminded that even here in Florida, where our seasons might not be as distinct, this time of year offers us the opportunity to reflect, renew, and reconnect.
 
We began our journey with the High Holy Days, a time of introspection and renewal. The energy of Rosh Hashanah, the Days of Awe, and the reflective nature of Yom Kippur encouraged us to consider our actions and intentions for the year ahead. Following these, Sukkot reminded us of our need for shelter and community as we celebrated the harvest. These holidays ground us, offering rituals that center our lives around faith, family, and community. It is no small feat to reflect so profoundly, and our community's dedication to one another is a testament to the strength and vibrancy of our shared faith and commitment to growth.
 
As the days grow shorter and winter approaches, Hanukkah arrives as a beacon of light in the darkness. Our Shabbatukah Light Up the Night celebration will unite us through music, candle lighting, and joyful gatherings this year. I encourage each of us to bring our own light to these celebrations – let's share what makes us unique and illuminate our community with that light. The Festival of Lights reminds us of the miracles in our lives – the significant ones we recognize immediately and the more minor, everyday blessings we sometimes overlook. Each candle we light symbolizes that a single spark of hope and faith can brighten even the darkest night.
 
We'll also begin thinking of the planting season ahead as winter continues. Though in Florida, we may plant earlier than our northern neighbors, Tu BiShvat, the New Year for Trees, reminds us of our connection to the natural world and our responsibility to protect it. Whether learning about sustainability or committing to small acts of environmental stewardship, let us all think about what we can do to make our world better.
 
This season of quiet change reminds us to take stock and re-root ourselves in our traditions, community, and actions that define who we are. I eagerly look forward to walking through this journey with all of you and witnessing the ways we can kindle the light, warmth, and growth we hope to see in the world around us. As we gather together this season, may we continue to spread light, hope, and love, and may our community continue to grow and flourish.
 
Wishing you all a peaceful and bright season,
Rabbi Aaron Sataloff
 

Spring 2024

UNDER (standing) CONSTRUCTION

I pass at least ten construction zones on my walk from our new Townhome to downtown Fort Lauderdale. New condos, apartments, schools, and state park enhancements. As soon as one is completed, it's as if another springs up the very next day. I recall moving into our new apartment on Las Olas with a clear view of the New River, only to have it obstructed merely 3 months later by another fancier, loftier Highrise. And as wonderful as it all is for the city (and our property values), it can be rather aggravating.

Ear-piercing drilling dampens the sounds of chirping birds, barking dogs, and neighbors' sidewalk conversations. Nowadays, I even keep a keen eye on soaring cranes as I walk below. I think, "As soon as this one or that one is done, it'll finally be peaceful and perfect." But deep down, I know that will never be the case. There will always be one construction zone or another. Because that's just the game of progress.

I tend to have the same outlook on life. A hopeful yet false belief that on the other side of some condition, construction zone, disturbance, or problematic circumstance lies serenity and zen. But life doesn't work that way. It is more like various construction zones at varying speeds. And from the perspectives of neighbors or newcomers moving in, they can be blessings or curses. Life is a hodge-podge juggling act. Really, there is no peace unless we make peace with the continuous unfolding of life's construction zones.

In Hebrew, however, it is no coincidence that the words for construction, B'ni'ah (בְּנִיָּה), and understanding Binah (בִּינָה), are practically identical – they have the same letters but different placements. Thus, gaining understanding means tearing down and building up new structures of concepts and knowledge. Understanding really is a construction process. It's only possible to gain understanding by getting a little dirty. Breaking a few eggs is the only way to make an omelet.

Further, it takes time and patience to gather proper materials. Consider the years that pass for suitable wood to be grown and used for roofs or walls in our homes. Finding the appropriate supervisor for a project is essential for the finished project. Similarly, understanding also takes finding suitable educational materials, teachers, mentors, and time and tolerance. Like its citizens, Hollywood is constantly changing, evolving, emerging, and becoming something new. But new understandings force us to embrace new ways of thinking and viewing things like new structures and landscapes do.

Here at Beth El, while we have finished (for now) the construction of our roof and other projects, we are now beginning a new phase of construction: that of our community, which changes and evolves as our understanding of Judaism grows. So, word of advice. Wear a hard hat and stay patient. As the sign says, "SLOW, PEOPLE WORKING…on themselves."

Be Well, 

Rabbi Aaron Sataloff