 | Happy New Year 2026, Shir Ami! In secular life, it's a time of new calendars, new year's resolutions and perhaps gentle re-boots. Because the Jewish calendar precesses 11 days each year, this year's spiritual pre-spring begins a bit early. Then again, already it's been a cold and snowy winter – with perhaps months to go – so an early spiritual pre-spring is welcome. Turns out that nature already is getting in on the act. Already creative juices are flowing. Already a re-boot is in progress. |
By Rabbi David
Happy New Year 2026, Shir Ami! May this secular year dawn bright for you and your loved ones.
The photo above ought not exist here and now. It's a snapshot of a tiny Christmas Day clearing in my backyard's frozen ground, with spring's first hyacinth shoots breaking through.
They're months early. I want to crank them back into the ground. Yet some mix of quirk, climate change (my forsythias tried to bloom, too) and hutzpah had their way – so here we are. A first, intrepid, almost imperceptible move hints that spring is coming.
A fallow season is built into Jewish spiritual life. After Sukkot we switch into "spiritual winter" until Passover. In Israel's Mediterranean climate, winter rains were vital to our ancestors' survival. They linked winter to our ancestral Egyptian bondage, and spring to our liberation.
That's where we are here and now. Starting now, Torah shifts to our Egyptian bondage – a cruel Pharaoh, a Burning Bush, a reluctant Moses, a promise of liberation, plagues, awesome power, signs and wonders, freedom. By the time Torah recounts our liberation a few weeks ahead, we'll be at Tu B'shevat – the launch of spiritual spring. Just halfway into this year's climatological winter, spiritually we'll train our inner vision to see spring coming.
It's early this year – yet precisely on time. There's an inherent optimism built into Jewish life: winter invariably leads into spring; fallow makes way for fertile. Already change is in the air. My backyard hyacinth is Nahshon ben Amminadav, tradition's first daring soul that leapt into the Sea of Reeds, demanding that it split and open a pathway to liberation and renewal.
We lean into this moment. We reboot and renew.
Happy New Year 2026, Shir Ami! May this secular year dawn bright for you and your loved ones.
The photo above ought not exist here and now. It's a snapshot of a tiny Christmas Day clearing in my backyard's frozen ground, with spring's first hyacinth shoots breaking through.
They're months early. I want to crank them back into the ground. Yet some mix of quirk, climate change (my forsythias tried to bloom, too) and hutzpah had their way – so here we are. A first, intrepid, almost imperceptible move hints that spring is coming.
A fallow season is built into Jewish spiritual life. After Sukkot we switch into "spiritual winter" until Passover. In Israel's Mediterranean climate, winter rains were vital to our ancestors' survival. They linked winter to our ancestral Egyptian bondage, and spring to our liberation.
That's where we are here and now. Starting now, Torah shifts to our Egyptian bondage – a cruel Pharaoh, a Burning Bush, a reluctant Moses, a promise of liberation, plagues, awesome power, signs and wonders, freedom. By the time Torah recounts our liberation a few weeks ahead, we'll be at Tu B'shevat – the launch of spiritual spring. Just halfway into this year's climatological winter, spiritually we'll train our inner vision to see spring coming.
It's early this year – yet precisely on time. There's an inherent optimism built into Jewish life: winter invariably leads into spring; fallow makes way for fertile. Already change is in the air. My backyard hyacinth is Nahshon ben Amminadav, tradition's first daring soul that leapt into the Sea of Reeds, demanding that it split and open a pathway to liberation and renewal.
We lean into this moment. We reboot and renew.
We welcome a new slate of Shir Ami officers. Continuing on are Abby Ross and Fran Pribish as senior co-presidents, and Julie Preng as secretary. We welcome David Green as co-president, and Jenny Lake as treasurer. Join me in blessing them for a successful and spirit-filled year.
January 9 launches Shir Ami's new "Oneg Shabbat" model, a schedule of Shabbat services that alternate between more contemplative (first Shabbat of the month) and upbeat (second Shabbat of the month). January 9 coincides with Torah's turn into our ancestral Egyptian bondage and immediately the Burning Bush – the holy ground beneath our feet, first herald of our liberation. Oneg sponsored by Ronny & Ira Kaplan.
January 23 will feature the renowned R. Rachel Barenblat – "Velveteen Rabbi" and modern poet of the Jewish experience – to share the pulpit with me. (If you participated in our 2025 High Holy Day runway series, or this year's Soul Spa, you've already learned with R. Rachel online.) Bring your open hearts and dancing shoes. Oneg sponsored by Linda & Stan Gratt.
And then come the three full moons of early spring – Tu B'shevat, Purim and Passover. Each night will chart the moon's movement toward spring. Each day's lengthening sunlight will begin waking the earth.
It's slow at first – barely perceptible to our wintered eyes. It'll take time and maybe a bit of courage and grace to wake our inner vision, shake off crusted layers and – like my hyacinth Nahshon – break through frozen ground into the air and light of what comes next.
We're not ready yet. And therefore we're right on time. Welcome to 2026.
January 9 launches Shir Ami's new "Oneg Shabbat" model, a schedule of Shabbat services that alternate between more contemplative (first Shabbat of the month) and upbeat (second Shabbat of the month). January 9 coincides with Torah's turn into our ancestral Egyptian bondage and immediately the Burning Bush – the holy ground beneath our feet, first herald of our liberation. Oneg sponsored by Ronny & Ira Kaplan.
January 23 will feature the renowned R. Rachel Barenblat – "Velveteen Rabbi" and modern poet of the Jewish experience – to share the pulpit with me. (If you participated in our 2025 High Holy Day runway series, or this year's Soul Spa, you've already learned with R. Rachel online.) Bring your open hearts and dancing shoes. Oneg sponsored by Linda & Stan Gratt.
And then come the three full moons of early spring – Tu B'shevat, Purim and Passover. Each night will chart the moon's movement toward spring. Each day's lengthening sunlight will begin waking the earth.
It's slow at first – barely perceptible to our wintered eyes. It'll take time and maybe a bit of courage and grace to wake our inner vision, shake off crusted layers and – like my hyacinth Nahshon – break through frozen ground into the air and light of what comes next.
We're not ready yet. And therefore we're right on time. Welcome to 2026.
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