As we prepare for the 2024 elections, America seems more polarized than ever. A recent Ipsos survey revealed that 81% of Americans feel less united than a decade ago and 71% believe the country is more divided than ever. Whether it’s on the news, social media, or in everyday life, the “United” States often feels anything but.

Yet, the poll also showed that 7 in 10 Americans believe most people share common goals and want the same things out of life. So, if we share so much in common, how can we bridge our differences and rediscover our shared humanity? The upcoming Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah, offers a timely lesson that could help heal some of the rifts in our communities.

Rosh Hashanah, celebrated this year from Oct. 2-4, is a time for renewal, reflection, and mending broken relationships. My father, Rabbi Moshe Wilansky, who founded Chabad of Maine in 1987, often shares a story from his first Rosh Hashanah in Portland, where he had an experience that profoundly shaped his views on acceptance and overcoming differences.

After finishing his holiday prayers that first Rosh Hashanah, my father left the synagogue to share the sound of the shofar with Jews who hadn’t been able to attend services. The shofar, a ram’s horn, is the central observance of Rosh Hashanah, and its simple, unadorned sound represents the heartfelt cry of the Jewish people to their father in heaven.

As he wandered the streets, shofar in hand, something unexpected happened. Several police cars, sirens ablaze, suddenly converged on him. In Portland of the late 1980s, this was quite an unusual sight.

Confused, my father asked the worried officers what the problem was. It turned out that bystanders had called the police when they’d mistaken his curved ram’s horn for a deadly weapon. Once he explained what the shofar was, the officers relaxed, shared a laugh, and left with newfound appreciation and understanding of this beautiful and ancient Jewish ritual.

While the story has a humorous tone, it holds a profound lesson. From a distance, the officers and bystanders initially saw a potential threat – a man in unfamiliar attire carrying something that looked dangerous. But once they engaged with him and gained clarity, they saw not a threat, but a sacred and meaningful object.

In today’s polarized environment, this same principle applies. We often perceive those who seem different as threatening, when in reality, once we engage with one another, we might discover shared values and commonality with the “other.” In the United States, the labels “Republican” and “Democrat” have become much more than just voting preferences; they’ve become identities that define and increasingly divide us. However, by listening, learning and remaining curious about one another’s experiences and perspectives, we may realize that what we perceive as threatening may be opportunities for understanding.

Jewish tradition teaches that on Rosh Hashanah, all of humanity stands equally before G-d. One of the holiday’s central prayers, Avinu Malkeinu, (“Our Father, Our King”), famously covered by artists like Phish and Barbra Streisand, emphasizes that our individual success is inseparable from the welfare of our larger community. This prayer is written in the plural form, reminding us that we ask for a good new year not just for ourselves and our loved ones, but for all people.

In this spirit of communal oneness, we extend an invitation to the greater Portland community to join us at Fort Allen Park’s Eastern Promenade on Thursday, Oct. 3, at 5 p.m. for a special event where we will blow the shofar and sing, in a call for unity and peace. In the same vein as my father three decades ago, the shofar’s call will be a tool to bring people closer and break down the barriers that divide us.

This year, to rediscover our shared humanity, may we be curious and willing to engage with one another. May the sound of the shofar remind us to let kindness, civility and respect guide our interactions. Then we can all have a happy, sweet new year.