President’s column – Page 4 – Temple Emanuel of Greater New Haven

President’s column, Summer 2019

I take a deep breath as I begin my term as president of Temple Emanuel. It is an honor to be given the responsibility to lead our congregation and I thank all of you for entrusting this job to me. As I begin my role I have taken some time to ponder why I took on this responsibility and what Temple Emanuel means to me.

I joined Temple Emanuel in 1999, with my wife Barb, our 4 year old daughter Maya and our 2 year old son Joshua. Until that time we attended different congregations, Slifka for the high holidays, BEKI often. We started “shul shopping,” attending services at several congregations around the area. When we made the decision to join TE, I remember thinking that we were joining because of the services and the feel of the congregation. We loved the music and the warmth. But we knew very few people at TE and at the time it did not feel like “our community.” Twenty years later I feel very differently.

What I appreciate most about TE is the community. I can show up by myself on a Friday night and know that I will not feel alone as I sit in services. When my mother died, there was a congregation to support me and come to a shiva service at my home. If we should have an illness or difficult time in our family, I know people from TE would be there to help. This sense of community has grown over time: sharing Shabbat services weekly, setting up numerous Rosh Hashanah luncheons, and sitting for hours at numerous board and committee meetings, have all helped me build strong bonds with so many of you.

TE has become the major focus of my Jewish community, a place that helped provide my children with a Jewish education, a place where I can celebrate Shabbat and Jewish holidays, a place where I can struggle with what prayer and God mean to me, and what it means to be a Jew.

TE is a special place. We have a wonderful community, incredible lay leadership, and a very special Rabbi. I hope to be able to continue the work of the leaders who came before me to keep TE a strong, vibrant congregation, and to help it thrive and grow. I want to see TE become a community where everyone can feel at home. I hope to get to know all of you over the next two years and I am interested to hear your thoughts, ideas and concerns. (president@tegnh.org)

I want to thank our past president Alan Kliger for all the work he has done to strengthen TE, both during his years as president and in the years before. TE is a stronger, more vibrant community because of the work he has done.

Everything has to do with loving and not loving

This column is the last I will write as president of TE. It’s hard for me to take in the reality that nearly 2 years have passed since the June 2017 annual meeting where I received the “go bag” from our past president Melissa Perkal, containing the essential elements for a TE president: duct tape, flashlight, screwdriver, wrench, extension cord, WD40, and an organized book of instructions for what to do when: vendor contacts, high holiday preparation, social hall rental, etc. A deer in the headlights, I had no realistic idea of what was in store for me. But a legion of past presidents – – so many still so active in TE leadership, assured me that I would be OK, and that TE would survive despite my ineptitude with tools, and my aversion to details. I would be OK – largely because so many helping hands were there always to do what had to be done: bring food (now without nuts!!), prepare for festivals and celebrations, move chairs – and move them again, cook and serve outdoors, teach, learn, share, and come together in joy and in grief. We love our synagogue, we love praying together, learning together, seeking together. Sometimes arguing together. But at its heart, TE is a place of love.

Joan and I sing in the New Haven Chorale, and are preparing a piece written by a Yale faculty composer, Christopher Theofanidis. His The Here and Now is inspired by a 13^th century text written by the Persian Poet Jalal al-Din Rumi. One of the phrases we sing over and over like a chant, is “Everything has to do with loving and not loving. Everything has to do with loving and not loving…” This so resonates with me – – everything we do has to do with loving and affirming life, or not loving and turning away from life.

I have been thinking about why Temple Emanuel has continued to thrive, despite the many challenges we have. We are a small community with so much to do, and relatively few hands to help. We have had financial challenges, some small, some large and daunting. In our modern world, our synagogue is not the central organization in our lives – – we have jobs, schools, we have social media, we have family gatherings – – dominating our time and attention. Why, then, do we value and support TE? Everything has to do with loving and not loving. TE gives us a space to be loving. Loving by extending ourselves to our community at times of need and at times of joy. Loving by praying together, arguing together, singing together, being together. We have a choice. Everything has to do with loving and not loving. We choose loving.

My last 2 years have been blessed with a capable and committed board of directors, working committees that really did their jobs, from our finance committee, adult and children’s education, caring community, membership, garden and cemetery, tikkun olam, building and grounds, safety, ritual, and more – – the inside workings of a real community. I have been so fortunate to work with a fantastic school administrator and her staff that have seen our school grow and thrive, a dedicated administrator overseeing daily process, a warm and inviting office staff that is our face to the outside world, and handles our phones, our calendar, our payments and contributions. We have an incredible caretaker, who makes our space her space, and is so proud of TE. And we have a rabbi who has been an inspirational leader. He has provided a constant vision of the future, and urges us to discover what TE might become. Every day, our rabbi shows his concern for each congregant – – those in pain, those in fear, those with confusion, uncertainty – – and also those with joy, with enthusiasm, with wonderful anticipation of new career, new relationships, new life.

I feel so fortunate to be part of TE. Everything has to do with loving and not loving. Our rabbi, our teachers and staff, our whole community, all help me to grow in loving. From my heart, thank you.

We stand together for Kaddish

Joan and I recently heard a string quartet concert devoted entirely to elegies. The music was so moving, the audience so quiet, I thought about how we give voice to support each other at the time of loss.

At TE, our custom is to stand together alongside mourners, and recite the Kaddish together. This ancient prayer was written in Aramaic, the common language in Talmudic times, so that everyone would understand what was being said. It is a prayer of praise for Adonai. In most traditional congregations, reciting the Kaddish is an obligation of a male mourner, or close male relatives. Others are not obligated to recite the Kaddish, but TE’s custom is for all to stand with the bereaved, in memory of the departed, and in support of those remaining.

In our wider culture, the elegiac tradition recognizes that mourners, sometimes wordless, receive critical support from others who stand together and share the sorrow. Elegiac poems and music move each of us as we think about the one who has died, our own mortality and beyond to the miracle of our short lives.

Mary Frye wrote this elegiac poem for a Jewish girl who had fled the holocaust, only to receive news that her mother had died in Germany. Frye saw this girl weeping inconsolably because she could not visit her mother’s grave to share her tears of love and bereavement.

Do not stand at my grave and weep

by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep:

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft starshine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry:

I am not there; I did not die.

Eye on Safety

Since the October attack on Tree of Life Synagogue in Squirrel Hill Pittsburgh, synagogues and other institutions across the country have been working on ways to keep our synagogue schools and sacred spaces safe,at the same time as maintaining the open and welcoming community that is part of our culture and religious practice. At Temple Emanuel, our rabbi, staff, lay leaders and our safety committee have worked hard together to find the best way to do this. A community Safety meeting was convened by NH Jewish Federation,where several New Haven area synagogue presidents and rabbis shared information- what each is doing to be prepared, and to mitigate risk. In addition, the Federation is prepared to act on our behalf to transmit possible resources available from federal, state or local authorities, and to examine the possibility of group purchasing or other collective activities.

The principles of safety for TE are similar to those practiced by schools and other public institutions. They include thinking in advance of what we will do in the case of a threat, learning from law enforcement the best steps for safety, training our staff and teachers in best response alternatives, working together with local law enforcement to minimize risk and planning for action if ever needed.

On the national scene, Bernhard Mehl’s Kisi organization lists several steps to synagogue safety;

Develop a synagogue security plan
Create a security policy
Create access role policies
Design a plan to cooperate with local law enforcement
Train synagogue leaders about security
Apply for a security site visit
Separate public and private WiFi use
Active shooter training programs
Assign patrolling staff
Material and resources must be locked away when not in use
Cloud-based Access Control Systems for synagogues (Private WiFi Network; access control)

TE has already taken most of these steps, and is in the process of examining and adopting several others. Special thanks to our Safety Committee, led by Max Case and Michael Shanbrom. As you see some of our changes for safety, including electronic surveillance of our building and environs, keeping our doors locked, having congregant volunteers serve as safety monitors during school and religious service hours, and encouraging Orange Police to know our building, our schedule, and do periodic sweeps of our property, let us know if you have observations or ideas that may help us all feel safe at TE.

President’s column (September)

A small but hearty group of TE members, along with Rabbi Michael Farbman, visited Israel in July. Our guide was an Israeli kibbutznick, originally from South Africa, who immigrated to Israel in the Apartheid era to seek a more morally balanced Jewish life. Julian Resnick took us to many common tourist sites in Israel, and also to several West Bank locations, where we met and spoke with several Palestinians of various backgrounds – including a reporter for Time magazine, a Palestinian policeman, and a Palestinian billionaire developer. This remarkable man has built a city near Ramallah for upper middle class living, which looks like planned cities in the US including modern apartments, shopping areas, playgrounds, pools, theater. There are already 4,000 people living there, and clearly a growing market for this life. His vision is to help resolve Palestine’s current dilemma of victimhood by looking forward with more jobs, more financial success and more stability for Palestinians and Israelis.

It became clear to us that nobody wants continued Occupation – -often victimizing Palestinians and forcing Israelis into uncomfortable moral positions. However we learned that the situation is very complex – – Israel must defend itself, as Hamas encourages destitute Palestinians to confront and attack Israel. It is in Hamas’ interest to maintain the desperate condition of many destitute, displaced Palestinians, who blame not Hamas, but Israel. What is the way out? Helping develop a Palestinian infrastructure, and a vision of hope as the developer is doing, may be one such creative solution.

We then all heard of the Palestinian teen Ahed Tamimi, who as AP reported “became an international symbol of resistance to Israeli occupation after slapping two soldiers.” The soldiers initially walked away, not causing an incident. However after a video of the encounter “went viral,” and strong voices in Israel, like Cabinet minister Uri Ariel said “I think Israel acts too mercifully with these types of terrorists,” the girl and her mother were arrested and jailed. After an international outcry, they were released, and hailed as heroes in their West Bank home.

Such a complex problem – each day the IDF and Israeli leadership make decisions that are based on Jewish morality and law, and also on a commitment to preserve the safety of Israel. Israel provides electricity to Gaza, even as their citizens send flaming balloons and kites into Israeli lands to burn their crops and possibly their homes. Israel sends humanitarian supplies across to Gaza, even as Hamas will not recognize that these life-saving supplies come from Israel.

It seems to me that the more secure and successful Palestinians can be in creating a successful Palestine, the more secure Israel can be with their neighbors in the West Bank. As long as people look back and maintain the cycle of domination and victimhood, there will be only anger, violence and sympathetic figures like the teenage Ahed Tamini. When Palestinians and Israelis look to the future and not the past, with efforts to support Palestinian autonomy, security and economic success, the space for a way out of this longtime tragedy may appear.

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness

In the seven weeks between Pesach and Shavuot, we count the Omer – – each day counting the days with a ritual prayer. The Omer was an ancient measure of grain. In the days of the Temple in Jerusalem, Jews brought a barley offering to the Temple on the second day of Passover. The Torah commands that after that day of offering the grain, “you shall count off seven weeks.” It is interpreted as a period of growth and introspection in preparation for Shavuot.

These seven weeks are a bridge between Pesach, where we retell the Exodus from Egypt, to Shavuot, when we celebrate the giving of the Torah at Sinai. As described by Rabbi Daniel Syme, Jewish mystics see this period as joining the Jewish people’s physical (Pesach) and spiritual (Shavuot) redemption.

I have an easier time thinking about the physical part – – freedom from slavery, freedom from want, and freedom from persecution, that many of us discussed at our Seder tables. In our modern American lives, our constitution says, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.”

So we believe our right is to pursue happiness. It is clear how we pursue physical happiness: models of the wonderful life abound, from TV ads, to electronic media. What shoes do our superstars wear? What suits do our president and his cabinet buy? Seaside homes, fast cars, vacations abroad.

I understand less well the spiritual part – – our American vision to pursue happiness is different than perhaps a vision to pursue fulfillment. Does happiness include spiritual growth and fulfillment?

One of the meanings of Shavuot is “oaths.” The day God gave us the Torah, God swore eternal devotion to us, and we in turn pledged everlasting loyalty to God. Unlike our constitution’s guarantee to pursue happiness, the Torah commands us to be holy – – to live by God’s laws, and thereby find spiritual fulfillment. If there is a spirit, and developing that spiritual life to fulfillment is spirituality, I find my spiritual life more ephemeral and challenging. I am working to help understand the meaning of my loyalty to God and God’s devotion to me.

In the period between Pesach and Shavuot, connecting the physical to the spiritual, I wish each of you a fulfilling journey.

World of Polarization

Are you a conservative or a liberal? Fox News or CNN? Whom do you follow on Twitter? Are our leaders giants or goats? For better or worse, most of us have passionate feelings about who is right and who is wrong, and we look for affirmation of our opinion.

In the Jewish world, perhaps no issue invites such polarization more than the future of the State of Israel: One state? Two states? What of our ancient stake in Judea and Sumaria? What rights and future do Arabs, Palestinians, or others have? What do we feel about multiple claims on the land? On Jerusalem? Where do you stand, and what role do American Jews have in this discussion? Even asking such questions invites finger pointing and invective. We are accustomed to taking a position, defending it, and often dismissing opponents as ignorant, morally bankrupt, and even self-hating.

This year a group at TE has been learning together, taking a course from the Shalom Hartman Institute centered in Israel, entitled iEngage. Led by Rabbi Farbman, this series includes scholarly lectures and roundtable discussions from Israelis of different political backgrounds. We have examined Israel’s milestones and their meaning, from the Balfour Declaration describing a homeland for the Jewish people, the United Nations partition plan, the Six Day war, the Jubilee Year, and beyond. We have examined texts from biblical sources, historical documents, charters, and modern speeches such as one delivered months ago by Senator John McCain.

When we considered the question of Israel’s future, entitled “One State, Two States: Moral Red Lines,” we examined the proposition that we might come to the discussion from a different position: leave behind what you “know” to be right, suspend identifying with which pole of the debate you stand on. Instead, consider seeking agreement on the moral principles that should undergird any solution. We considered five moral values: the value of human life, the right to property, the obligation of reciprocity, the “right” to collective rights, and the obligation to pursue peace. We were urged to discuss and consider each of these principles, through the writings from biblical times to the present, which might guide a best solution – be it a one state, two state, or other best solution to Israel’s future.

This has been a wonderful challenge: we have much to learn from our Jewish texts and heritage that inform our moral foundation. What principles can we agree to, whatever our political orientation? What can we imagine or create together when we can establish a common moral base? And beyond Israel: imagine the power of possibility if conservatives and liberals and proponents of all stripes could first listen to one another, agree to a set of moral principles, and then discuss how this informs the future.

From “Rags” to… Integrity

I just returned from Goodspeed after seeing “Rags,” a musical about the Jewish immigrant experience in 1910. The story describes the experience of “greenhorns” arriving at Ellis Island in New York, fleeing a European past of pogroms, and seeking new lives, hope and aspiration in the New World. As described in the revised book, author David Thompson in a screenplay written by Joseph Stein “explores what might have happened to the families who had come to America from Anatevka (Fiddler on the Roof).” We see the tension between holding onto old values and entering a new reality, – “What do you keep? What do you leave behind?” In this musical, we are reminded that Americans already in the country view immigrants both as “fodder” to fuel the economy and also as potential threats to take their jobs and change their culture. The resonance with our current-day xenophobia and fear of immigrants is striking.

I cried at times during this play. In my real life, as I heard the chants of “build the wall” this past year, I saw in my mind an image of all four of my grandparents, who immigrated to New York from Poland, Lithuania and Russia in the same time frame depicted in “Rags.” Like the characters in the play, my grandparents left their families and fled from oppression, fear and little opportunity to create new lives and hope for the future in America. My grandparents struggled much as the characters in the play did with a hope and vision of the future for their children and grandchildren – – my future. I have a secure and happy life, a loving family, and I was able to craft my own future without fear of hunger, oppression or religious discrimination.

I believe that my responsibility as a Jew and as an American is to do what I can to assure that others have the same opportunities and protections that my grandparents received when they sailed into New York harbor three generations ago allowing my parents, sister and our whole happy family to thrive. Temple Emanuel supports JCARR, the Jewish Community Alliance for Refugee Resettlement. This was one of the agencies that received our High Holiday Appeal support. JCARR welcomed three families to our community this past year, two from Syria and one from the Democratic Republic of Congo. My wife Joan and I will support JCARR this Hanukkah. I hope you might take a few moments to think about your own family’s history and our collective Jewish community history, and support JCARR and other organizations that welcome and support immigrants to our wonderful country.

Excerpt of President’s Comments, Rosh Hashanah 5778

5777: what a year at TE, with weekly services, Mussar, scholars in residence. Our TE religious school is thriving. Our membership is growing. Tikkun Olam projects supporting our greater community. Our grounds and gardens have never been more beautiful. Our Caring Community committee works tirelessly to offer outreach and support. We have an active Mens Club and Sisterhood. This was a fabulous 5777 inside our Synagogue – –

The year outside TE, in the larger community was less optimistic: a divisive national election with no coming together after the inauguration. Leaders of both major political parties little respected, and held in contempt by a majority of Americans. What a stark contrast in behaviors and attitudes – – comparing outside to inside our TE community.

At Shavuoth last May, Rabbi Farbman asked our 8 young men and women celebrating their confirmation, to write and speak about what Judaism meant to them. In an outside world of egos, ambition, unprecedented wealth, and division, these kids thought and talked about their Judaism. Here are some of their words. Sam Steigbigel said, “My Judaism is an obligation to myself and those around me to look at where I am, look at where I want to be as well as how I can get there without straying the path.”

Jonathan Schachter said, “Judaism is living in everlasting gratitude for the gift of life, the blessing of opportunity, and the task set before us of igniting the spark within each of us.” Micha Aviad said, “My Judaism is activism. The most important thing I’ve learned is that history repeats itself. Especially in times like these, our voices matter.” Skylar Korman said, My Judaism is my identity… It is important for me to hold onto my beliefs and stay strong in them.” Avital Sutin said, “Having a sense of Judaism everywhere offers me a moral compass in my daily life, from pursuing justice and peace, treating other people how they deserve to be treated, and being kind to my physical surroundings.” Julia Katsovich said, “Judaism’s values taught me and instilled in me the importance of being generous and kind, and I want to be able to say that I have made a difference in people’s lives somehow.” Sam Farbman said, “Life within these walls is vibrant and treasured, a rare commodity in a world that often seems bleak. The things I’ve learned from the Jewish people who surround me on a daily basis have expanded my understanding of humility, gratitude, and commitment.”

As I look to this new year, I will try to remember the inspiring words of our wonderful young congregants. At Temple Emanuel, exploring our Judaism together, we have the opportunity to recognize and share gratitude, to be generous and kind, to pursue justice and peace, and to remember that in times like these, our voices matter. May the example we set, and the lives we and our children lead, be models of what the world can be.

Days of Awe on the horizon.

My first summer as TE’s president has been relatively quiet. School is not in session, summertime services have been beautifully planned and led by fellow congregants, and Rabbi Farbman and the Spain travelers have returned from what they say was a fabulous trip. I am acutely aware, however, that these lazy, crazy days of summer are numbered… the High Holidays have appeared on the horizon, and I feel we are racing toward them at light-speed.

Our tradition teaches that these holidays, and the Days of Awe between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur, are most meaningful for us if we prepare for them in advance. How are we to take time and focus away from our daily chores and activities to prepare for examining our behavior over the past year, recognize our shortcomings and misdeeds, and seek a way to come closer to God?

Our tradition suggests that during the month of Elul before the High Holidays, God is particularly accessible. I thought about this recently when I visited our cemetery, and read the headstones of so many of my friends, mentors, colleagues, fellow congregants. At each grave, I stood a few moments and thought about each of them – what they believed, how they laughed, what I learned from each. I stood at the grave of my close friend and mentor, Rabbi Jerry Brieger Z”L. Before Jerry welcomed me into TE 40 years ago, I had no personal tradition of celebrating the High Holidays. Rabbi Brieger’s gentle yet learned style enticed me to participate in these traditions, to reflect on what I had done and who I wanted to be, and to prepare for a new beginning as the new year was born. That first Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur for me was really the first time I had spent much time thinking of my accomplishments, my mistakes, my regrets, my hopes and my relationship with my fellow humans and with my God. As we completed the day of fasting and prayer on Yom Kippur, as one community singing together, the wonderful surprise I had not anticipated was my sense of redemption, intense love and real hope for the future.

This year, my preparation for the Days of Awe began as I stood in the cemetery with my beloved Jerry, thinking of how lucky I was to have had such a guide and loving friend. I do not know how many more Days of Awe I have on this planet. I do know that our tradition of introspection, repentance, reconciliation, forgiveness, gives me the opportunity to find again my true self, my purpose, my appreciation of all that life offers, and my hope for our future together.

I hope each of you might also have the opportunity to build again a whole heart as we prepare for the Holidays. I look forward to seeing you at synagogue.