I don’t have to look at a calendar to know that it’s seven weeks to Rosh Hashanah. I know this because this week’s Torah portion is accompanied with a reading from the prophet Isaiah that begins, “Comfort, comfort, oh my people.”

It is always read before Rosh Hashanah. It is the first of seven weekly readings of consolation telling us that even though life can be hard, and sometimes we feel that we are surrounded by death and destruction, fear and uncertainty, it’s going to be OK.

In ancient times, the reason for consoling the people were the twin destructions of the temple in Jerusalem, both of which took place on the ninth day of the month of Av.

We observed that date just last week. But this year we were more caught up in mourning recent pain, the destruction of Jewish communities bordering with Gaza on October 7; the people killed, the people kidnapped, the joyous music festival disrupted by murder and rape.

The Jewish calendar is remarkable in that it doesn’t merely note dates and holidays, but also seeks to guide us through the year.

This Shabbat the calendar turns from mourning to consolation, from looking back to looking forward. Yes, we carry our pain with us always. Grief doesn’t ever go away completely, and it returns in unexpected waves. But we can’t live there.

As summer wanes and the days become cooler we look forward to Rosh Hashanah, then to Yom Kippur, the solemn day of atonement, then to Sukkot, the fall harvest festival, and finally to Simchat Torah.

It is a completely joyous holiday. Last year it fell on October 7. It will be hard to be joyous again this year. The pain of last year is far too present; so many hostages still in captivity, so much war and strife continuing; so much rebuilding and healing yet to be done.

I pray that Jews around the world, and especially those in Israel, will follow the calendar regardless, and sing and dance with a Torah scroll held tightly in their arms.

Even in the worst of times, we Jews have persisted. We have continued to mourn and celebrate together, to practice our religion, and to believe that the message of Judaism matters.

We are here to make the world a better place. We are here to teach one another. We are here to elevate the mundane into the sacred.

We are here.