By Rabbi Rachel Esserman

“This year it’s different.” That’s the Jewish Federation of Greater Binghamton’s slogan for its Campaign 2025. When I first mentioned the slogan to a friend, she said it was so vague that she didn’t know what it meant. Although Federation Executive Director Shelley Hubal and Campaign Chairwoman Marilyn Bell explained the reasons behind the slogan in an article that appeared on page 1 of the July 26 issue of The Reporter*, I feel the need to do my own personal exploration of the idea.

When I first heard those words, October 7 immediately popped into my mind. The one supposedly safe place for Jews no longer felt as safe, although anyone who truly knows about Israel’s place in the world probably already feels that way. The upsurge in antisemitism that’s being played out in U.S. streets and on college campuses also plays a role in people feeling worried about their safety. This doesn’t include those on both sides of the American political aisle who are worried about the results of the upcoming U.S. presidential election – and the potential violence if those results are not what some people want – shows that this election is different from all other elections.

Different: When Jews usually use that word, we are thinking about the Passover seder. The first of the four questions children ask their parents is, “Why is this night different from other nights?” What we often don’t think about is that each seder itself is different: children and adults get older. Their relationships change. Their ideas about religion and family change. Sometimes people – both young and old – are no longer present due to age, illness or accident. 
The same, though, is true for any holiday season. We are not the same as we were last year, or two years ago, or 10 years ago. I’m not just talking about physical changes, but our relationships with our family, community and the world. One of my favorite descriptions of teshuvah explains it as a way of acknowledging that we’ve strayed from the path on which we want to walk. We are often so busy we don’t have a chance to think about all of our actions in more global terms. Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur give us a chance to stop and see where we stand. They give us a chance to turn and reclaim the path we want.

But that’s not always an easy thing to do. Emotional and physical pain can make it difficult for us to be the people we want to be. Looking back at our year, are we disappointed about the chance we didn’t take that is now out of reach? Do we think about the words we said, or should have said, and feel disappointed in ourselves? But we can also think about the times we hit the metaphorical correct mark and helped someone. Those moments are also important to remember.

I’ve learned to accept small moments of success and connection. That’s partly due to my chaplaincy work with the developmentally disabled. At times, all we can do is make small, transient connections. But those small connections can be meaningful, even if they seem to vanish the next time we’re with the person. Sometimes, that moment – that short, unsustainable moment – has to be enough.

“This year it’s different.” Every year is different. That’s the joy and the sorrow of life. 

*To read that article online, visit Federation Campaign 2025: “This Year It’s Different.”