gratitude Archives - Rabbi Sharon Sobel

“Oh My Aching Back!”

Growing older may bring its share of aches and pains, but it also invites us to discover deeper meaning, embrace new possibilities, and appreciate the blessings of each day.

My cousins from Connecticut are visiting me in Chattanooga this week, and we are spending a few days together in Nashville as well. My cousin and I have always been exceptionally close, more like sisters, and having them here has been an extraordinary gift. There is something irreplaceable about spending time with family, sharing stories, laughing together, and enjoying one another’s company.

All three of us lead active lives. We exercise, try to eat well, and care for our health. My cousins are retired, and I am approaching that chapter myself. We still have plenty of energy, enthusiasm, and curiosity, though our bodies occasionally have other ideas!

Nearly every day, one of us remarks something along the lines of: “Oh, my aching back!” or suggests, “Perhaps we should rest before dinner.” Activities that once seemed effortless may now require more time, patience, and perhaps an afternoon nap.

We laugh about it, but beneath the laughter is a recognition that growing older brings both blessings and challenges. Our bodies carry the experiences of decades of living, working, raising a family, traveling, celebrating, and enduring difficulties. They remind us that time has passed, even when our spirits feel youthful.

Rabbi Richard Address, founder of Jewish Sacred Aging, explores the spiritual dimensions of growing older. In his essay The Courage to Flourish (February 25, 2026), he writes, “Judaism teaches us that as long as we live, we seek meaning and our place in this world.”

This week’s Torah portion, Noach, offers a compelling illustration of this enduring search for meaning and purpose. Noah is 600 years old when the Flood begins (Genesis 7:6). Whatever we make of the extraordinary ages recorded in the Torah, the message is striking: Noah’s age does not diminish his responsibility or capacity to act. At an advanced age, he becomes central to the possibility of a new beginning.

Our opportunities to contribute, discover, learn, and begin anew do not disappear as we grow older. Our roles may evolve, our priorities may shift, and our bodies may require greater care, but our capacity to live meaningful and purposeful lives remains. Perhaps this is why Jewish tradition invites us to begin each morning with gratitude, recognizing that every new day brings possibilities, regardless of our age.

Two of our morning blessings, for example, take on deeper meaning as we grow older. In Modeh Ani, we thank God for restoring our souls and granting us another day. Asher Yatzar, allows us to express gratitude for the remarkable functioning of our very human body. As we age, we become more conscious of abilities we once took for granted and more appreciative of the extraordinary gift of another day in which to live, love, and contribute.

Yet, the Jewish understanding of aging extends beyond our individual experiences. It also speaks to how we honor and care for one another. The Torah teaches, “You shall rise before the aged and show deference to the old; you shall fear your God: I am the Eternal” (Leviticus 19:32). For younger generations, this means recognizing the wisdom and experience of those who preceded them. For those caring for aging loved ones, it means offering compassion and assistance while honoring their dignity and independence.

We also recognize that not everyone experiences aging with good health, financial security, or the comfort of close family relationships. Illness, loneliness, and loss can make later years particularly difficult. As a sacred community, we have a responsibility to ensure that every person, regardless of age or circumstance, continues to feel valued, connected, and supported.

Spending these precious days with my cousins has reminded me that growing older is not simply about acknowledging our limitations. It is about recognizing what truly matters. We may navigate stairs more cautiously than we once did, become more discerning about how much we fit into each day, and recognize the importance of rest. Yet, we are so fortunate and blessed to have another day to explore, another meal to share, another story to tell, and people we love with whom to share the journey.

Perhaps that is one of the gifts of growing older: learning to measure the richness of our lives not by how much we accomplish in a day, but by the meaning we find in the moments we are given.

When we awaken tomorrow morning, may we greet the day with the gratitude of Modeh Ani, mindful not only of the gift of another day, but of the opportunity to make that day a blessing.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi Sharon L. Sobel

Spilling Coffee From the Cup

When life overwhelms us, we may be surprised by what “spills out,” and what it reveals about ourselves.

This Shabbat, the Shabbat between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, is known as Shabbat Shuva, the Shabbat of Return. It falls during the Aseret Y’mei T’shuvah, the Ten Days of Repentance, a sacred period devoted to introspection, reflection, prayer and study.

During these days, we are invited to look inward, to examine our lives with honesty, and to consider not only who we have been, but who we aspire to become in the year ahead.

In that spirit, I offer this parable:

Spilling Coffee from the Cup
(Adapted by Rabbi Paul Kipnes and Rabbi Julia Atlas Weisz. Who adapted it from Why Did You Spill the Coffee? A Great Analogy
Contributed by Ashish Bhavnani, Shared by Chandru Gidwani)

A young woman was holding a cup of coffee
At the synagogue
when someone came along
and accidentally hit her arm,
making her spill the coffee everywhere.

The rabbi saw what happened,
Rushed over to make sure she was okay,
And then
Sensing an opportunity for a life lesson
asked:
“Why do you think you spilled the coffee?”

The woman answered,
“Well, of course,
Because someone bumped into me!”
The rabbi shook her head
And said,
“Not precisely.
You spilled the coffee
because the coffee was in the cup.

If tea had been in it,
you would have spilled tea.
Whatever is inside the cup
is what will come out.
Therefore,
when life comes along
and shakes you,
which will happen,
whatever is inside of you
will come out.
It’s easy to fake it
until you get rattled.

The Rabbi said:
So we have to ask ourselves….
What’s inside our cups?
When life gets tough,
What spills over?
Anger, bitterness,
harsh words and actions?
Or
Joy, gratefulness,
peace and humility?

With what will we fill ourselves,
When it sometimes feels like
our cups are being drained?
The choice is yours!

In these Yamim Noraim,
These High Holy Days,
May we work diligently and intentionally
Toward filling our cups
with gratitude and forgiveness,
With joy and gentleness,
With words of affirmation for ourselves and others
So that this year may truly be
A Shana Tova, a good year, a sweet year, a year filled with all the worthy blessings of our hearts.

Shana Tova, G’mar Chatima Tova, and Shabbat Shalom! May the year ahead bring goodness and blessing, may we be sealed for a life of meaning and purpose, and may the peace of Shabbat renew our spirits.

Rabbi Sharon L. Sobel

A Little Card, A Powerful Reminder

A small card becomes an invitation to notice our blessings, embrace gratitude, and share what we have with others.

I was unpacking a box the other day and found a small, laminated, tri-fold T’filat Todah, “Prayer of Thanks,” card.

“Thank you, God, for all the things that I do have, and thank you, God, for the things that I don’t have. Thank you for my periodic difficulties, my occasional setbacks, and for the times when I don’t feel happy…”

I placed it on my desk at home as a reminder to stop kvetching (complaining) about insignificant matters. I have so much for which to be grateful.

I see gratitude reflected in so many ways through the lives of those around me: family, friends, community members, and people I encounter each day.

A few of the many expressions of gratitude I’ve witnessed recently:

My sister-in-law Marilyn’s recent celebration of becoming Bat Mitzvah at the age of 70;
My friends’ celebration of achieving a 1,000+ mile walking goal with their non-verbal 36-year old autistic son. They began walking together during COVID, when his work-study program shut down. His newfound love of walking continues to this day;
A wonderful recent visit here in Chattanooga with dear, longtime friends-who-are-like-family from Toronto whom I had not seen in almost four years;
Warm and meaningful gatherings at congregants’ homes for Shabbat dinner, “meet and greets,” and more. I continue to be touched by the gracious hospitality and welcome extended to me and by the many ways people have opened their homes and their hearts;
A mother’s beaming, loving smile as she introduces me to her daughter, who was born with many challenges and has worked hard to overcome them;
Our school-age students who greet one another, and often me, with huge bear hugs, so grateful for the gifts of friendship and community;
The beautiful smiles and joy-filled hearts of those who face health or other challenges and are simply thrilled to be present and to embrace each new day.
Our Jewish tradition teaches that there is a difference between thankfulness and gratitude.

Rabbi Norman Lamm, the late prominent Modern Orthodox rabbi, author, and longtime president and chancellor of Yeshiva University, once described the distinction this way:

“Thankfulness can be understood as courtesy or social gesture in which I give thanks only for goods received. It is a kind of verbal receipt: you give me something, I thank you. It is the polite, socially expected way to behave, a social construct.

“Gratitude, on the other hand, can be viewed as a higher level, not based on construct but on consecration, the consecration of one’s whole character. It is a state of mind in which a person is so devoted to the Almighty, so dedicated to transcendent values, so elevated beyond petty, selfish concerns, that he feels himself grasped by a pervasive gratefulness even when he has not received some special favor in advance…. [Gratitude] is a reaction of the total personality; [it is] deeply personal, profoundly human.” (Paraphrased from Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm, “Gratitude Is Good for the Soul,” sermon delivered in the 1970s and republished in 2013.)

In this week’s Torah portion from Deuteronomy, Ki Tavo, we discover that gratitude is not merely something we feel. It is something we practice. In Deuteronomy 26, the Israelites are instructed that when they finally enter the Promised Land and reap its harvest, they are to bring the first fruits of the land as an offering to God. As they do so, they recount their story: where they came from, the suffering of slavery, their redemption from Egypt, and their arrival in a land of abundance.

In other words, before they can fully appreciate what they have, they are asked to remember how this all came to be theirs: how they came to achieve this milestone of an abundant harvest in their own land after hundreds of years in exile.

The Torah, however, does not allow gratitude to end there. Just a few verses later in the same chapter, the Israelites are commanded to set aside a portion of their produce for those who might otherwise go without: the Levite, the stranger, the orphan, and the widow.

This is what I find so powerful about the Torah’s understanding of gratitude. Gratitude cannot simply remain a feeling within us. It must move us beyond ourselves.

When we recognize the blessings in our own lives, we become more conscious of those who may not share those same blessings. When we understand that what we have is not ours alone, gratitude becomes generosity. Gratitude becomes responsibility. Gratitude becomes an act of k’dushah, holiness.

As we approach the upcoming Yamim Nora’im, the Days of Awe, perhaps this can become part of our own cheshbon hanefesh, our spiritual accounting.

What are the blessings we have stopped noticing because they have become so familiar?

Who are the people whose presence in our lives we may have begun to take for granted?

How might the challenges and setbacks in our lives help us recognize blessings we might otherwise overlook?

How might our gratitude for what we have received inspire us to give something of ourselves to someone else or do something to make a difference in our world?

Perhaps that little T’filat Todah card is a reminder to look at our lives more carefully and more fully: to notice what we too often take for granted, to cherish the people who sustain us, and to recognize the many blessings that fill our days.

As we enter this sacred season, may the gratitude within our hearts find expression in the way we live, the way we give, and the way we care for one another. May our lives reflect our gratitude by becoming a source of blessing to others.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi Sharon L. Sobel

An Open Letter to My Friends Who Survived – on Yom Hashoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day)

To my dear friends Howard and Margot, Dow and Fredzia and so many others:

I think about you often, but my heart is with you especially today – on Yom Ha’shoah V’ha’gevurah, Holocaust and Heroism Remembrance Day.

Each of you survived the Holocaust and made it through those terrible years. Each of you has your own unique story of war, struggle, anguish and survival. And each of you has not merely “survived” – each has gone on to create lives of meaning and purpose, gratitude and love.

You are the epitome of the definition of ‘resilience’. You exemplify by how you live your lives that ‘good’ will triumph over ‘evil’ and that the human spirit cannot be broken. And you show us how an affirmation of God’s presence during difficult times brings us strength and courage to persevere.

You help us to understand that we must use our voices to speak out against racism and against evil. We must be the ones to ensure that ‘never again’ will the world experience such unspeakable heinous acts committed against our fellow human beings.

The world still has its share of hatred and violence and evil. There are those who exist who do not acknowledge that every human being is made “b’tzelem Elohim” – in the image of God. And they choose to try to harm, hurt or destroy those they view as “less than human.” But you are the inspiration that we do have the ability to affect change. We have the power to use our voices, our deeds and actions to eradicate the evil in our midst. As Elie Wiesel said: “I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides.”

Tonight we will light candles in memory of those who perished. We will remember in silence, we will reflect, we will pray.

And then inspired by you – and in memory of those who perished, we will continue to work to change our world.

Zichronam livracha – may their memories be for a blessing.

Gratitude – A Lesson from Love and Loss

59 years of marriage.

Two children.

Three grandchildren.

A life filled with the blessings of love, friendship, joy, shared passions.

A life filled with meaning and purpose, community, Jewish living and serving others.

A few days ago, as we sat and ate lunch together, I listened to the beautiful story of my congregant and his wife. How he served in the Armed Forces, how they raised a family, worked hard in their professions and how they gave back to their community in so very many ways.

His wife died this past November after almost 59 years of marriage. He told me that at first, he would wake up in the morning and turn to her side of the bed, look for her…and realize that she wasn’t coming back.

She tried to prepare him for this moment when she first became ill. She taught him how to cook, how to cope on his own.

His children and grandchildren call him every day. And he realized that even though his beloved is gone, he is still alive.

His wife is still with him each and every day. She lives in his heart, his mind and his memory. Her presence reminds him that he must live his life to its fullest. So he is trying his best.

His overwhelming feeling now is a sense of GRATITUDE. Gratitude for the years they spent together, for the life they built, for the children they raised, for the works of their hands and the deeds of their hearts.

He puts one foot in front of the other. He finds fulfillment in his many friendships, music and community. His children and grandchildren are great sources of pride and joy, who share some of his passions and sense of adventure. And now that he has time, he is volunteering again. For him, “gratitude” means opening your heart and hands to others.

Despite his sadness and pain at the death of his beloved wife, my beautiful congregant exemplifies our Jewish custom of reciting “modeh ani” – “I thank you” to the Eternal each and every morning. When we recite “modeh ani” each morning, we thank God for allowing us to awake once again to a new day, to live our lives with meaning and purpose, with joy and contentment, and to make a difference in this world.

May he have many more years of living life with gratitude, joy and meaning. May we be inspired to do the same.