Melodies, Memories, and New Beginnings at LAJH
Melodies, Memories, and New Beginnings at LA Jewish Health
Reflections Following My First High Holy Days at Los Angeles Jewish Health
by Rabbi Marc Kraus, LMFT - Campus Rabbi, Eisenberg Village
This year, I stood on the bimah for the High Holy Days at Los Angeles Jewish Health’s Eisenberg Village campus for the very first time. In some ways it was new—new place, new faces, new customs to absorb. Yet the holidays didn’t feel like an introduction. Like the rest of my time at LAJH, they felt like being gathered in by a family.
As Campus Rabbi, I move between three very different sacred communities that share one campus and one beating heart. I was assisted by our Chief Mission Officer, Rabbi Karen Bender, Joel Stern, and Ben Tzion Kogan.
In the Newman Building, our assisted living community, we honored the familiar structure of the traditional prayers—the same Hebrew words, the same moments of whispered private prayer—while making space for each person’s unique needs and story.
At Fountainview, where residents can live independently, we were able to gather for these holidays as a shared adventure. Together rabbis and residents experimented with new melodies, reflective intentions, and gentle pauses for back-and-forth conversation. Residents asked probing questions, shared memories, and helped shape services that felt both rooted and fresh.
In Goldman Ziman Special Care Center, our memory care community, the High Holy Days felt the most profound. We centered on the core melodies that live on even when so much else feels uncertain: “Avinu Malkeinu,” “Unetaneh Tokef,” “Oseh Shalom.” I watched faces soften, eyes fill with tears, and lips move along to words that sometimes could no longer be spoken in everyday conversation—but were still there, held safely in the music.

After Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur came the joy of Sukkot. We gathered staff in the Eisenberg Village sukkah for a staff appreciation celebration, recognizing how much we all give to make these holidays meaningful for our residents. To rejoice there—surrounded by greenery, laughter, and so many caregivers who pour their hearts into the Home—felt like stepping into the heart of this community.
At Fountainview, sitting in the sukkah with residents around the dinner table, I heard stories of Sukkot from long ago, of childhood backyards and synagogue courtyards in other cities. We passed platters, made blessings, and felt the fragile walls of the sukkah holding something very strong: our shared Jewish time.
What has stayed with me most from this first High Holy Day season is how fully I was welcomed—by residents and by staff across every department. To lead the Days of Awe and Sukkot here is to be reminded that holiness is not confined to a sanctuary or a sermon. It is found in a whispered “amen,” a hand gently held, a melody that unlocks a lifetime of memory, and a simple meal shared under branches open to the sky. For that privilege, and for the embrace of this community, I am deeply grateful.
MORE IMAGES OF HIGH HOLY DAYS ACROSS LAJH CAMPUSES:









