I am always deeply blessed by the month of Elul. One of the things I love about the Jewish people is how they live out their faith. Sometimes it feels as though faith can remain purely spiritual, without always finding expression in everyday, physical ways. Elul has helped me understand the beauty of bringing the spiritual and the physical together.

One of the many things that struck me is that in Hebrew, Yerushalayim is a plural word. It reflects both a heavenly (spiritual) and an earthly (physical) Jerusalem. In the same way, when we light the candles on Shabbat, it feels as though we take the “light of the world” and make it tangible. God’s instruction for the Israelites to wear tassels works in a similar way—a physical reminder of the commandments, helping us to remember not just to know them, but to live them.

We have been greatly blessed by these physical rhythms and practices that help anchor spiritual truths in daily life. The month of Elul carries that same sense of intention and preparation. The name Elul is often linked to the phrase ani l’dodi v’dodi li—“I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.” It is a season traditionally described as a time when “the King is in the field,” near and accessible. Of course, God is always near, but this language invites us to become more aware of His presence.

Elul is a time to slow down once again, to reflect, and to prepare our hearts as we approach the feast season. It gently calls us to pause, return, and realign—bringing the spiritual and the physical back into harmony.