From the amazing High Holy Days season, back in the sanctuary for the first time in 3 years, to the Gala celebrating Temple Emanuel’s 60th anniversary, my heart is full of gratitude for the blessings bestowed on us all and on this cherished community of ours. A huge THANK YOU to the Gala committee and so many volunteers that helped make it a night to remember!
The vision of our founders lives on. The community they so lovingly built continues to be maintained and sustained by the new generations of TE members, even as many of the founders and the ‘early adopters’ continue to bless our community with their love and support. Our Religious School continues to provide the opportunities for children and parents to learn and to grow – both Jewishly and personally. Our teens step up to engage not just with each other, but also with the next generation of students. Our expanded building is once again abuzz with excitement of learning. My heart overflows with gratitude.
Our world is far from perfect – and yet we continue to respond the best way we know how: by supporting those in need, by loving our neighbors and our friends, by comforting the bereaved, by supporting those who struggle with illness, by rejoicing any time we have something to celebrate: a wedding, a baby naming, a coming of age to fulfillment of mitzvot… We celebrate and we mourn, we support and surround with love, we continue to engage with the modern world while holding fast to traditions that go back centuries.
At 60, we are young and vibrant. We look back with the gratitude for our past, and with excitement for our future. Mazal Tov, TE!
As I write this article for the Shofar, it is less than one week until Temple Emanuel’s 60th anniversary gala. As you read this, the gala has already occurred. While it wouldn’t be honest to discuss the gala in the past tense, I can say I am impressed by the response the gala has received. After being isolated for the past couple of years, we are all ready to socialize again. It is an exciting time. In my first Shofar column, I stated “I’m back.” In this column I will discuss that we as a congregation are back. It was very gratifying to see congregants in the sanctuary for the High Holy Days for the first time since 2019. I am not exaggerating when I point out there was definitely a buzz in the sanctuary. While modern technology kept us together during the low points of the pandemic, people, including me, were truly excited to see others in person, as opposed to in two-inch squares on a Zoom screen. Interaction with others is something I cherish, and it appears the rest of the congregation does as well. Yes, we did adapt to the restrictions imposed on us by Covid. Zoom services will continue to be available to those who are unable to attend services in person. Rabbi Farbman was able to make the Zoom experience interactive by way of chat rooms. Board meetings, classes, and other meetings were made available through technology. Nevertheless, it is great to see and speak with each other in person. Onegs have now returned as part of our Friday night experience. Though I can’t resist a piece of challah and a chocolate chip cookie, what I enjoy most about our Onegs is that we stand around talking to our friends. I consider many of you already to be great friends, and if we don’t know each other well now, we will eventually. That is in the blood of Temple Emanuel. While Shabbat under the stars was a once or twice a year occasion, we have all come to enjoy it regularly during the late spring and summer, even though we have been able to return indoors. Our beautiful grounds, thanks to the Building and Grounds Committee, are very inviting, as are our benches. The hard work of Melissa and Robin has resulted in TE getting a $69,500 security grant from the federal government. Going forward you will see many improvements as a result, including new entrance doors. All of this pleases me, but most of all I am delighted to proclaim “we are back.”
sharing our journeys…sharing circle says goodbye to Sampre-shabbat talkTeenssinging with Rabbicooking!
The three weeks between the 17th of Tammuz and the 9th of Av are a period of mourning in Jewish tradition. On the 17th of Tammuz the walls of Jerusalem were breached, and on the 9th of Av the Temple was destroyed. According to the Jewish tradition, both the First and the Second Temple were destroyed on the 9th of Av, and so over the centuries that date also absorbed the mourning for other catastrophes that have befallen our people: the Khmelnitsky pogroms, and the 1492 expulsion from Spain (the decree was actually signed on that day, in a carefully orchestrated nod to history), among many others.
It is a complicated date in modern history – while the world is not complete, and the Temple is gone, the City of Jerusalem is alive and vibrant, and very much rebuilt. Many Jews continue to fast on this day and lament the ancient destruction, and recite the mournful verses of Eicha, Lamentations. Others look for ways to engage in meaningful Jewish experiences, performing Mitzvot big and small.
Upon my return from Israel (where I, sadly, contracted COVID and missed a part of the Shalom Hartman Institute’s Rabbinic Torah seminar), I learned that there are many Ukrainian refugees who have found their way to Spain, and that the local Jewish community was organizing many programs for kids and adults, with support of the World Union for Progressive Judaism’s Ukraine Crisis Fund. Dedicated volunteers and coordinators were working very hard to create special summer experiences for these children displaced by war, and they really needed help.
Samuel Farbman and I boarded a flight to Barcelona – we were there for a week, to support the local Jewish community and the refugees in any way we could. We brought some supplies -mostly electronics that are cheaper in the US. We bought additional supplies there, thanks to the continued generosity of so many TE members and friends. As many of you saw, I tried to post brief reports of our experiences while we were there, and am reproducing some of those notes here as a summary. The 9th of Av fell right in the middle of our trip – we were so grateful for this opportunity to do something meaningful, helping to heal the world, and our people.
Stories, powerful stories… I met with a group of refugees who were sharing some of their journeys of the past 5 months, of their lives before and since the war, of travel for leisure and of running to safety… The human resilience that comes through the trauma, the humor and wisdom and an overwhelming sense of loss. Tears and laughter… We helped with shopping (including getting a cake for one of the volunteers who celebrated her birthday), sang some songs with kids, and met with a few families. I gave a talk about the upcoming 9th of Av and led Shabbat services (in Russian, simultaneously translated into Spanish by an amazing local coordinator, with readings in Spanish, Catalan, Russian and of course Hebrew). Sam helped set up all the computers we brought, played (and cooked pizza) with kids (all of whom demanded to know if he would stay with them permanently), and was answering a myriad of questions that kids and adults had for him all day. Shabbat was all (well, mostly) about teens. It was beautiful and amazing – and perhaps the toughest so far… They giggled and were all age-appropriate while they introduced themselves – many have begun to form friendships; some only met for the first time, traveling from multiple towns around Barcelona just for the chance to be with other teens. And then I asked them about the last 5 months – the depth of their experiences, which they are altogether too young for, and the way they chose to speak about it left me sitting quietly and holding my breath for a while. I spoke to them about Tisha B’Av and the pain our people have carried for thousands of years, while finding the strength to build our lives with optimism, and laugh, and have joy. A most powerful experience indeed. Sam got to talk to them about education in America, a subject that was very much interesting, and fielded a ton of questions.
With our help the leaders organized a boat trip for the teens – they have been dying to do something special and fun, and we were so excited to help make it happen! Later on, Sam got a chance to produce the largest bill in his life by treating everyone to some food. The teens spent the day together, and for most of the time, it felt almost normal. This may not have been the most traditional start to the 9th of Av, but it was one of the most meaningful ones we have ever experienced.
Singing together after Shabbat service
The next two days were quite busy: together with a group of refugees, we toured the old Barcelona and the old Jewish quarter – it was a little surreal to talk about Spanish Jewish history on the exact day Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand signed the Edict of Expulsion of the Jews from Spain; not to mention seeing the stones from the Jewish cemetery used in the construction of the Royal palace. Happily, though, signs of support for Ukrainian refugees were everywhere – banners, posters and Ukrainian flags. Then, back to the synagogue (and air conditioning) for a chance to talk with Sam about education in America (which continued to draw lots of questions!), followed by a self-organized trip of the ‘travel club’ to the botanical gardens, led by one of the young refugees (a student of botany), who showed us some fascinating plants! Then we transferred to Pineda, a small seaside town where many of the refugee families have been living for many months now. We spent the day with the kids – on the beach, and in the park, and I also met with a number of people who wanted to talk one-on-one. Later that evening, Sam joined a group of teens, and I gathered with a group of grown-ups, talking about life, war, politics, and everything in-between while sitting in a circle on the local beach. It was a little surreal to be surrounded by thousands of people in a seaside vacation town – it’s easy to think that all these families are also here on vacation, except that of course they are NOT – they are trying to figure out the rest of their lives. So many of them were well established, with comfortable lives, businesses, plans and dreams that most certainly did not involve even the idea of having to leave their entire lives behind, but now most of them feel they have no choice but to make that choice (even as they hope they can get back).
Back in Barcelona, Sam was immediately absorbed by a gaggle of kids, while I met with the local coordinator who has been pouring her heart and soul into creating the infrastructure of support for this community of displaced people – a yeoman’s job. Later, a group of a dozen coordinators, psychologists and supporters came together – sharing their plans, and asking both of us for advice and support. They were MAGNIFICENT. We were both in awe of their creativity and resourcefulness. We got to treat them to some afternoon sushi while they worked, a well-deserved symbolic offering (which apparently was just what the doctor ordered). The day continued with more conversations, too many to count at this point, but all so clearly needed. The next day we packed our bags and came back for a final few hours with the kids (who have all decided that Sam needs to have lots more holiday time and come spend it with them!), and a few final projects/conversations/meetings, before hopping in a taxi.
We couldn’t wait to be home, and yet we knew we cannot fully disconnect from this amazing community. Our trip came to an end, but the stories will continue to reverberate in our minds and our hearts.
Please join us on Friday, September 9 at 5pm for the Annual TE BBQ picnic (fun activities for kids open at 4:30 pm), followed by Shabbat Service Under the Stars at 6pm! Invite your family, friends and neighbors – spread the word! This event is open to current and prospective members.
Kosher BBQ will be provided by our great chefs and snacks and sides will be individually packaged.
I’m back, and it’s time to get my first baseball reference out of the way – as Yogi said “It’s déjà vu all over again”. When I first was president more than a decade ago, I used to joke that I hated the job and was counting the days till my term ended. I obviously didn’t, but I just said it so I wouldn’t put a kinehura on it. Being president of Temple Emanuel is one of the most rewarding things one can do. Dealing with the Rabbi, Olga, the Board, the staff, and the congregation is extremely pleasurable.
While my predecessor, Robin Levine-Ritterman, faced many challenges- a pandemic, security issues, and an addition to our facility, I look for a return to normal. While things will never be the same as they were three years ago, Robin and Rabbi Farbman have worked hard and have made changes so that we can do what we do best – provide spirituality, tradition and offer a welcoming community.
One thing I learned through the years is that most synagogues state that they provide “a warm, diverse welcoming community”. However, while one can say that, it always isn’t accurate. Temple Emanuel however, walks the talk. That is why I love being part of this community.
I wasn’t perfect twelve years ago, and I am not perfect now. One thing I do promise is to listen. For that reason, our Board is not made up of people who just say yes to everything. Rather than be inflexible, I promise to solicit and listen to opposing views. I want to offer others the opportunity to convince me to change my position. When I am making a decision, I will try to talk to those who may see things differently. I have always found our community to talk civilly even when disagreeing, and you might notice that after services, I try to seek out those who don’t view things the same as I do. I might still disagree with someone, but I will always try to hear them out.
I am glad we have returned to the sanctuary. Soon I hope that we can return to sharing meals and conversations together. Thank you for allowing me to serve again.
Over the last two years we have missed many of the cherished moments as a community inside our building due to the pandemic. As the world begins to return to the normalcy of in person interactions, we are so excited to be gathering once again in our sanctuary.
Our return to the physical togetherness is tinged with sadness: antisemitic attacks on synagogues continue in 2022, with the recent hostage crisis in Colleyville Texas. There have been 10 shootings, stabbings, or planned bombing of US synagogues since the Tree of Life massacre 4 years ago. Temple Emanuel has responded with a vigorous plan to protect our synagogue and its families with updated security plans and protocols. A safety audit recently completed at TE recommends several capital improvements, safety personnel and safety training to keep us safe. We are following these recommendations in each of these 3 areas.
Many of us have already participated in the safety and preparedness training that Mike Shanbrom and the Jewish Federation have provided. We now are arranging for a visible safety guard to be present at all TE events when large groups of people congregate, including major religious services, large school events and community social events. The operating budget will be expanded to include the added expense of this guard.
We also need several capital investments to improve and maintain our infrastructure. These improvements and updates will protect our members and visitors, our school children and staff – – and also protect our Torahs and our synagogue possessions. To accomplish this, we estimate that we must raise between $30,000 – $50,000. A synagogue family has pledged a dollar-for-dollar match for all contributions of $500 or more toward this capital safety campaign.We need these large contributions – but also need every contribution, large or small, to achieve this. While we continue to apply for various state and federal grants, these grants are very competitive and there are multiple projects that require our attention now.
We hope that every TE member, every school family, and friends of TE will participate in this critical campaign.
Please make a pledge toward this goal, and be as generous as you can be to keep TE safe for our children, our congregants and our whole community.
Spring is here with its promise of growth and renewal. My daffodils are in peak bloom, and each day I watch my perennials grow another few inches. My garden reminds me that the passage of time is inevitable. And it is time to pass on the role of president of the TE Board of Directors.
When I started in 2019, TE was in the midst of a building campaign. We were raising money to expand our building; it was so full of activity that we didn’t have space to fit everyone. In the March-April 2020 Shofar I wrote:
“This morning Temple Emanuel was overflowing with members, ranging in age from toddlers to those in their 80’s… Every inch of our building was being used and the energy inside the building was humming with excitement.”
Life soon changed for all of us. It is hard to remember the time when we couldn’t find a meeting space for the Men’s club or an adult education program on Sunday mornings. In much of the past 2 years my role as TE president has been consumed with decisions regarding the pandemic; keeping us safe often meant keeping us apart.
While the pandemic is not over yet, our country and our community are moving ahead toward a new normal. Our congregation is as strong and as vibrant as ever. Our religious school is one of the best in the area, and we have a teen program that is growing as our students mature and become our teachers. Shabbat services, holiday celebrations and lifecycle events at TE continue to hold an important place in our members’ lives, even as membership in churches and synagogues around the nation declines. In the past decade we went from a position of financial instability to a much stronger position. And we continued to do all this during a time of COVID pandemic and increasing threats to Jews around the nation.
I believe that the Temple Emanuel community has a special type of Ruach. Ruach can be translated to mean spirit, or breath, or wind. Our spirit is one of caring – about each other and about the world. It is a spirit manifested in music, and in everyday acts of kindness. It is a spirit dedicated to learning. I see this spirit all the time at TE, as members reach out to others in need, whether it be another congregant, the homeless population in the Greater New Haven area, or those fleeing from the violence in Ukraine. I feel it during Shabbat services and concerts like Shir Magic. I see it during asephah when parents and children come together to learn and sing.
It has been an honor to serve as president of such a special congregation. Many thanks go to all those who have helped me and our congregation during these 3 years – from Ruth, Lynn and Ariette, to a wonderful, hardworking Board of Directors, to Olga and the entire religious school staff, to volunteers too numerous to name. It is our membership that truly makes us who we are, and thanks to all of you for being there. I didn’t fully understand what the concept of sacred partnership between a temple president and Rabbi meant until I experienced it. Working with Rabbi Farbman has taught me a lot and I thank him for his time and friendship and for all that he does for Temple Emanuel. And special thanks to Barb, my wife, for putting up with innumerable meetings, emails and phone calls most nights for the past 3 years, and for being a great editor.
This year Temple Emanuel is celebrating our 60th anniversary. As the pandemic ends, we will need to figure out new ways of being as a community. We will keep some of what we learned during this time – streaming services to make them more accessible to all, outdoor services on a more regular basis when weather permits. I look forward to bringing many traditions back from the past – meetings in person and onegs after services. We will be working on incorporating suggestions from the Audacious Hospitality survey and committee to make our community more welcoming. I am confident that our special spirit will bring a bright future for Temple Emanuel.
As many of you know, I have just returned from spending a week in Poland as a volunteer. The Jewish Federations of North America (JFNA) and American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC) had asked for Russian and Ukrainian speaking clergy to travel to Poland, Hungary and Moldova to support the Jews fleeing war in Ukraine, to help them celebrate Passover, and lift their spirits. I have spent a week on the ground, visiting multiple refugee centers, running programs for adults, playing with kids, sharing simple meals, and listening to stories. I have also tried, as much as I could, to offer some support to the volunteers and professionals on the ground, helping to run the response to this humanitarian crisis unprecedented in Europe since WWII.
Armed with a credit card and your incredible generosity, I also went shopping multiple times in different towns for clothing, shoes, medications, general supplies, washing powder, plates and cups, toilet paper, snacks and sweets and treats, board games for kids and adults, shampoo and body wash, handheld tablets and a printer/scanner; not to mention the small toys, clothing and art supplies that were collected prior to my departure – each center had their own needs, and I followed the lead of the local volunteers. The needs are great and varied, and while all of this is but a drop in the ocean, every little helps.
Most of my time was spent in the safety and relative calm of hotels and residential centers – with few exceptions, most people had escaped the war weeks ago, and had a chance to recover from the ordeals of bomb shelters and crammed trains and walking, sometimes for days, across the border. One could easily be fooled by the “normalcy” of our interactions, but most of it was paper-thin, as people clutched their phones, checking in regularly with their loved ones who were left behind – some in the army and territorial defense units, others (especially men 18-60) simply unable to leave the country. The news and personal stories came flooding in, people hearing from friends and neighbors, anxious and desperate for some good news. There was a lot of waiting and trying to figure out what comes next: do they wait for the war to end and go home, do they have family they can join elsewhere in the west, or is it time to consider a more permanent form of immigration?
Most of the volunteers and coordinators of this work, as well as psychologists working to help people cope with all this trauma, are themselves refugees! Two months ago, all of these people have lived comfortable and modern lives – they had jobs, and homes, and families. They were college students and professionals; their lives subject to normal challenges and tensions. Some were better off than others, of course; some lived in big cities and others in small towns and villages; some relied on public transport and others owned big homes and comfortable cars; some worked two jobs and some went on regular family vacations. Most had mere hours to pack; some didn’t even get a chance to go home – when the bombs started falling, people ran for safety. All of the stories of people running from war and violence with nothing but a shirt on their backs were no longer the stuff of family lore – these are the stories of today. A young mother entertains a cutie pie 1-year-old boy (who is so sweet and smiles a lot!) – and I am suddenly overwhelmed by the generational trauma, thinking back to my father as a 1-year-old, headed east on a train in 1941, never to see his father alive again… I smile and offer some support, and a small toy – and I pray that this boy and his family are kept safe from harm.
I am struck by the resilience of the people who can put aside their own trauma and go help others – it’s easier to navigate your own uncertainty when you are busy helping someone else.
I get a chance to celebrate Shabbat with this multitude of people – Jews, non-Jews, some joyfully singing along to familiar melodies, others encountering Shabbat and any form of Jewish observance for the first time. I can sense that there is a small measure of comfort and spiritual support that people receive from our gathering, and I am grateful for the opportunity to be there for them – and for myself. I return home, to my family and to TE, grateful for the opportunity to serve, knowing that I will carry these stories with me for the rest of my life.
