August 21, 2026
“Oh, I still have my mezuzah to put up.” Those were the words we heard from Zoe as we finished unpacking and setting up her dorm room this week. While I am pretty sure Debra knew about the mezuzah, I had no idea. Her roommate was bringing one too, and Zoe decided it would be better to hang it together. As I reflected on those words, I could not help but think that, of all the things we packed in the car (which was packed to the brim) as she goes off on her own, she included a mezuzah.
Packing for college includes clothes, a computer, art for the walls, school supplies, bedding, and more. Packing your soul for college is something different. Many years ago, there was a high school curriculum created for teenagers called “Packing for College.” The premise behind it was to help young people build their Jewish identities with all the right tools for college. Though today’s curriculum would likely look a bit different, the choice to bring a mezuzah is one that comes from a sense of connection to the Jewish people and Jewish values. As many of us will remember, the Hebrew letter shin that appears on the mezuzah stands for Shaddai—a name for God. Shin, dalet, yod are the three letters used to spell Shaddai, and the rabbis tell us it may be an acronym for the words shomer d’latot Yisrael—protector of the doors/gates of Israel. To put a mezuzah on her door is also an expression of a prayer that God’s protective wings will guard her on her journey.
If there is a Torah text we can look to for a comparison to leaving home, we might turn to Abraham, who was told, “Lech lecha, go forth from your native land, from your father’s house to the land I will show you.” In order to become who we are, we have to leave the places we know and are familiar with and go out and explore the world. A Hasidic commentary explains that the words lech lecha mean “go to yourself,” which might indicate that we look inward to discover our true selves. Such a commentary indicates a conundrum for understanding what it means to travel on such a journey. In order to find who you are, you have to bring something of yourself with you. When you depart on a journey, you may be open to the myriad possibilities you encounter on the way. If your soul is an empty vessel, you will not be rooted in anything of substance, and you might have the potential to flutter in the wind. If you carry your values with you, you are able to anchor yourself when the journey becomes rocky. It is those values that might indicate which direction you should walk.
When Abraham left his home in Haran, God promised him that he would be a blessing and that God would make his name great. That promise reflected Abraham’s fear that the journey would not be easy, but he would come out on top. When a young person goes off to college, we as parents can’t really make the same promise. We have to have faith that we’ve done all we can; we’ve taught them as much as we could; and we hope we can impart more wisdom. But the tools they have learned along the way will carry them forward. Instead of telling Zoe she would be great, we told her to go be great and that she could do it. When our young people go off on a journey, the power is within them to learn more, grow more, and make their own way. We might offer a word of wisdom and some support along the way, but the journey is theirs to make. So many of our young people are starting school this week or next, whether it is K–12 or college, and they are soaking in the tools and skills they need to navigate life. There are so many teachers who help them along the way, and that is such a critical role in their development. Whether the teacher guides them in kindergarten, 12th grade, or college, they become important mentors who are significant partners on the journey.
We go through countless journeys in our lives, with different stopping points along the way. There are often forks in the road requiring us to make critical decisions. Perhaps what we need along the way is not for God to promise that we will be great, but for us to promise ourselves that we will be great. When we make that promise to ourselves, it comes with a commitment that we will follow through. We will do all we can and put our best selves forward. This season reminds us that there are moments when that doesn’t always happen. We trip, we fall, we pick ourselves up again, and we give it another chance. As we continue to journey through the month of Elul, let us reflect on the moments when we have tripped and what we need to do to pick ourselves up and move forward.
To all our kids, grandkids, and teachers—go be great!
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Rick Kellner