When I stand on the bimah next to a young person celebrating their arrival at the age of taking responsibility for observance of mitzvot, I often say something like this: ‘as you arrive at this moment of celebration, please remember that this is not the end of the journey of Jewish learning – quite the opposite! Becoming a Jewish adult is embarking on a journey of life-long learning and Jewish discovery’. I know that in that moment it may be hard for the 13 year old to grasp the full meaning of this charge, but I hope that they remember this as they continue to grow, mature and become the true Jewish adults. Learning is NOT just for kids. In fact, Jewish learning that we offer our children is just a handful of tools and concepts that they will be able to use to continue to engage with Jewish texts, services, festivals and celebrations, as well as many customs and traditions of our people.
Over the course of the year we make sure that all of our religious school families enjoy some family learning – grades 3 and up have an annual Shabbaton, and we run school-wide programs a few times a year. Parents of our 7th graders are offered a B’nai Mitzvah Parents class every year, allowing them to explore our traditions in depth, just as their kids prepare for their big day. This year we once again offered an Adult Hebrew Class on Sundays – many thanks to TE’s own Eyal Yazdi for volunteering to teach this group of dedicated learners!
Our weekly Torah Study group has returned in person (as well as online) with renewed sense of excitement. For the first time in the 13 years that I have been leading this study group we have decided to engage in a slow reading of the Torah text – rather than following the traditional weekly portion schedule, we go through the narrative a few verses at a time, delving deeper and not moving to the next verse until we are ready. So far we have managed to get to Noah, and the conversations have been so rewarding! If you have not yet tried it, why not spend 90 minutes on Saturday morning engaging with a little Jewish learning, cup of coffee in hand?
One of the highlights of the year is TE’s Annual Scholar in Residence program. Over the past few covid years, while we were not able to have our traditional weekend-long programs, complete with meals and a chance to spend quality time with our scholar in residence, we have experimented with a few different modalities online.
I am delighted to announce that our Scholar program this year will be offered by Professor Michal Bar-Asher Siegal, a Horace Goldsmith Visiting Professor in Judaic Studies at Yale University. Stories portraying Jesus and heretics (‘minim’) in rabbinic literature are a central site of rabbinic engagement with the ‘other’. We will use previously untapped Christian materials to arrive at new interpretations of familiar texts and illuminate the complex relationship between Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity. Whether you took the TE class on co-existence of Jews and Christians in ancient times back in 2019-20, or you are completely new to this topic, I promise you an incredible journey of exciting learning! Since prof. Bar-Asher Siegal is based in New Haven this year, the three sessions will be offered on January 24, 31 and March 1 – come to one or come to all! (And yes, we will also be streaming on zoom, to make it more accessible to those who are not comfortable driving at night!). A huge thank you to our anonymous donor who continues to make these learning opportunities available to all TE members.
As our Adult Hebrew learners are conquering the alef-bet, we will soon be ready to begin our Adult B’nei Mitzvah class – so please continue to check the Shofar Blast for more info coming soon. 5783 is shaping up to be a year of great Jewish learning at TE!
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!
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.
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.
Judith Kaplan, at age twelve, became the first woman to celebrate a Bat Mitzvah on March 18, 1922. Judith was the oldest daughter of Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan, the founder of Reconstructionist Judaism. Believing that girls should have the same religious opportunities as their brothers, Rabbi Kaplan arranged for his daughter to read Torah on a Shabbat morning at his synagogue, the Society for the Advancement of Judaism.
100 years in Jewish history is not a very long time, of course. And yet, the 100th anniversary of the first-ever bat mitzvah offers us an opportunity to reflect on how much the world, and the Jewish world, have changed since then.
Temple Emanuel B’not Mitzvah Class of 1993
The revolutionary act of a BAT mitzvah did not immediately change the Jewish world – it took a while for various Jewish movements to fully embrace this life cycle moment in all its beauty (each within its own understanding and style). At one point, as bat mitzvah celebrations became common in Reform and Conservative synagogues, many of the women who grew up in the previous generations embraced the new ritual and celebrated Bat Mitzvah as adults – learning to read from the Torah and taking their rightful place on the bimah. At Temple Emanuel, a few groups of women joined the Bat Mitzvah class with Rabbi Brieger in the late 1980s and through the 1990s, and many of the wonderful Torah chanters who regularly take on this holy task at TE were trained as part of that effort and got to celebrate this special occasion as part of a larger group, forming life-long friendships in the process.
In addition, generations of Jewish women grew up celebrating this life cycle event by learning to chant and being called up to the Torah, same as the boys, in a truly egalitarian manner. At Temple Emanuel we are blessed to have the mixture of chanters on our bimah, both the ones who had their bar and bat mitzvah at the age of 13, and those who only had the opportunity to do so as adults (I, of course, am included in that latter category, having celebrated my Bar Mitzvah at the age of 27, the day before my Rabbinic ordination – but that is a different story).
As we celebrate this special anniversary on March 18th, I have invited all the women who celebrated their adult b’not mitzvah at TE to share an aliya together, a mini reunion. Another aliya will be shared by many of those girls and women who grew up at TE (or other synagogues) and had their b’not mitzvah ceremonies at 13. I hope that you mark your calendars and join us for this very special occasion, celebrating the reality that was once revolutionary, and now very much a part of Jewish life!
The world continues to change, and we continue to evolve with it. While these days we don’t think about Bat Mitzvah as something unusual, there are new realities that warrant our consideration: how do we welcome teens (and adults) to encounter the Torah while recognizing their different understanding of gender, and what adjustments to the language and the ritual we need to consider to make these rituals inclusive and welcoming. We stand on the shoulders of giants; our ancestors did not shy away from the challenges they faced, and we are all able to experience the richness of our tradition in a deeper and more meaningful way as a result. I am confident that we will continue to engage with both modernity and tradition, constantly shaping and renewing our commitment to Jewish life and practice.
I know that there are a number of TE members who have not had a b’nei mitzvah celebration – some did not grow up Jewish and converted to Judaism as adults; others grew up in Jewish families that were not part of a religious community; others perhaps did not have a ceremony for a different reason. I would like to use this anniversary of the first Bat Mitzvah to offer an invitation: if you would like to join the Adult B’nei Mitzvah class at Temple Emanuel this coming year, to learn to chant from the Torah and to celebrate this special ritual, please send me a note – I think the time has come for us to have this special program at TE once again!
A few years ago, while sorting through some of the archives of Temple Emanuel, and marveling at some of the history (including terrific photos and a collection of the old Shofar editions, going all the way back to typed-up pages from 1966), I flipped to one of the first issues — December 1969 — and found a message from then-President, Paul Levine:
“Last year after considerable, careful thought we put out a mini-leaflet which we feel is true to the spirit of our congregation. In it we described ourselves as “… a new temple for creative judaism”. It was no accident that “temple emanuel” and its description appeared in lower case letters. This device signified to us that the institution was no more important than its congregants… An institution such as ours must serve the needs of its members. But the rabbi, officers and board are not all-wise in guessing the needs of the members. Realizing this, last summer Rabbi Winer, together with an officer or board member visited nearly every congregant’s home to solicit views and ideas. Many worthwhile innovations followed. One or two ideas flopped. But if we profess to be “a new temple for creative judaism” we must continue to be willing to change where desirable. Therefore, I solicit your ideas and your help in carrying them out. Our temple is a very precious concept. Let’s care enough to have it serve us properly.”
Having stumbled upon this paragraph by accident, I have been returning to it, day after day, month after month, and pondering the legacy of our early “pioneers”. While we no longer spell Temple Emanuel’s name in lower case letters, we remain committed to the principles of “creative Judaism”, and especially to our identity as a community, rather than an institution. We remain governed by committed lay leaders who do not presume to be all-knowing, and continuously encourage ALL members to share their vision, as well as their energy, in making TE the kind of a community we all need it to be.
The last two years of living through a pandemic has reminded us all of the importance of this pioneering spirit of TE’s founding members. We had to learn “new tricks” as we all adapted to services, religious school, education and even social gatherings online. With vision and foresight, we were also able to continue our efforts to expand our building and upgrade our lobby and kiddush lounge into much more welcoming spaces, preparing us for the joy of re-entering our building once again. We were (and remain) creative, even as we work hard to preserve the essence of our community: a welcoming Jewish space where everyone gets to explore their own Jewish journeys. A place to educate the next generation of Jewish children. A synagogue. A place to belong.
As we enter the year 2022, we get a chance to celebrate a milestone that most of our founding members likely could not have imagined – the 60th anniversary of Temple Emanuel! We will celebrate this year with an amazing treat – a visit from one of the most inspiring composers of contemporary Jewish music, Noah Aronson (make sure to save April 2 as the date of our next Shir Magic concert)! We will have a family and religious school celebration of our 60th on May 15th, and the celebrations will culminate, God willing, with a Gala on October 29th. I can’t wait to celebrate this exciting milestone with you all!
The Festival of Chanukkah celebrates a historic moment of dedication – or rather, of re-dedication of the Temple in Jerusalem by the Maccabees, following a successful revolt against the Syrian Greeks in 164 BCE. The fighting was still ongoing as they proceeded to clear out the Temple, remove the idols and re-kindle the Temple Menorah. We retell the story every year, recounting the struggle and the unlikely victory that allowed our ancestors to thrive as Jews in our land once again – a powerful and inspiring story.
While the most well-known explanation for the 8 days of Chanukkah comes from the Talmudic story of the cruse of oil, the Book of Maccabees offers us a different reason for the duration of the Festival: the Maccabees had spent a long time in their hideouts and caves as they waged war against the Greeks, and they missed out on many of the celebrations that formed a big part of their Jewish identity. The most recent (and beloved) Festival they missed was Sukkot (which lasts 7 days plus one more – 8 days in total!). Not only that, when the First Temple was built in Jerusalem by King Solomon, the dedication was celebrated over the course of the Festival of Sukkot! I suppose they could have waited until the following year, but their desire to restore the Jewish rights and customs was so strong that they created a brand new Festival of re-dedication!
It struck me that this is the year when we all can feel a little bit like the Maccabees – we have missed out on so much of the joy of communal gathering and Jewish rituals and celebrations over the last year and a half, hunkered down in our homes, grateful for the technology that has allowed us to maintain at least some form of our community. Having reentered the sanctuary just a few weeks ago, we are giddy with the excitement of being together again. Just like the Maccabees, though, we don’t get to relax just yet – the pandemic is still here, and while the infection rates are a little better than they were, we are not yet able to breathe a sigh of relief, and have to be careful as we cautiously begin to return to our traditional ways.
The Maccabees were very much the traditionalists of their time, yet they were also able to adjust to the realities of modernity, and used their Jewish creativity, too. They gifted us with Chanukkah, a most beloved Jewish Festival, that offers us light in the time of darkness; that lifts our spirits and fills our hearts with joy. And so, this year we will once again come together in our sanctuary and celebrate Chanukah, complete with candles and the TE band! There will be numerous precautions, including masks and distancing. We will not gather all our chanukkiot in the middle, but instead will spread the light all across the building – Sanctuary, Kiddish Lounge and the Social Hall! Last but not least, we will not be able to hold our wonderful Chanukkah dinner the way we have always done – but our wonderful volunteers are working on some exciting ideas, so watch the Shofar blast in the next few weeks! We will adjust to the new realities, and of course, we will make sure that those who are not able to make it in person can celebrate with their TE community – by bringing their chanukkiot to Zoom and joining the community virtually.
I cannot wait to celebrate this Festival of Lights with all of you!
The arrival of the month of Elul in the Jewish calendar is always tinged with both excitement and sadness. The summer is beginning to wind down, and even though we may still have a few weeks of summer weather, fall is on the horizon, and with it the return of “regular” routines for many of us.
Of course, we continue to live in a world in which there’s nothing regular about our daily lives! The pandemic continues to challenge us in ways we never could have imagined — testing our resilience, our adaptability, and our creativity. The new “normal” means that kids are about to go back to school, commuters go back to battling the usual traffic volumes, and sooner or later the evenings become cooler as well.
In the Jewish calendar, the arrival of the month of Elul is a signal to switch spiritual gears. It reminds us that Rosh Hashanah is on its way, followed closely by Yom Kippur — and thus there’s no better time to begin the process of introspection, also known as ‘heshbon hanefesh’, accounting of the soul. How was my last year? Did I reach the goals I set out for myself? Did I remember to be kinder; to act justly; to color my actions in this world with Jewish values?
Did I fail? (I know I failed – I am a flawed human being!) And more importantly, when I did fail, how did I respond? Did I seek to fix my own mistakes? Did I acknowledge my failures and look for ways not to repeat them? One of the fundamental ideas we begin to consider with the arrival of Elul is how we can strive to rise above our flawed human nature to being a better version of ourselves. We begin this spiritual work ahead of time, and we continue throughout the festive season of High Holy Days, culminating in a day-long observance of Yom Kippur.
I always look forward to the High Holy Days with excitement; seeing so many TE members together in one room celebrating our ancient traditions fills my heart with joy. This year, the reality of the pandemic is once again preventing us from gathering safely, and so we will use technology to come together instead: on Zoom or via livestream, as well as meeting outside for a few smaller services. We will hold a Rosh Hashanah seder once again on the eve of Rosh Hashanah, an experience that so many of us found incredibly meaningful and inspiring last year. We will gather outside for tashlich, and (please God) we will gather in and around the TE sukkah later this month. In short, we will do what we do best – celebrate our Jewish traditions, our heritage and our way of life. May our journey of introspection this year bring us new insights into our own lives. May our holy day celebration be filled with meaning and joy.
Shanah Tovah — a sweet, happy and joyous 5782 to you all!
(This is a revised version of an article that previously appeared in the Shofar in the Fall of 2018.)
We have lived through a pandemic. No, we are not yet done with Covid-19 – it will continue to affect the world and our lives for some time yet, but at least as I write this column, the CT vaccination rates continue to rise, and the infection transmission rate allows us to begin to go about our normal lives with far fewer restrictions. Our leadership is looking carefully at the rapidly changing situation and is adjusting our procedures and policies on a regular basis. There is a very good possibility that we will be able to enjoy the High Holy Days in a much more familiar way this September, which fills my heart with joy and excitement (as well as makes me a little anxious, to be sure).
As we begin to re-enter the world once again, we begin to ‘breath out’ ever so slowly. The last 15 months have not been easy, and we all had to learn to give up so much of our lives, so many things that we take for granted on a daily basis. In synagogue life, we have successfully transferred most of what we did completely online, trying to keep the sense of community, of Jewish practice and of belonging – despite the obvious challenges. All of us cannot wait to say ‘good riddance’ to having to be alone at home, instead of singing together on Shabbat in the beautiful TE sanctuary. The anticipation of High Holy Days in our sanctuary is palpable! And yet, I also know that this past year we have developed new skills, as well as new understanding of what Jewish ritual is, and how to incorporate it into our lives. As we rush to resume the normalcy we so crave, let us not forget some of the positive things we have created for ourselves and our families in this difficult year of the pandemic.
We couldn’t come together in our sanctuary to light the shabbat candles – and so many families have begun to do so at home. Some of our older members don’t feel quite comfortable driving at night, but were able to come and join Shabbat services regularly throughout the year using zoom. Many of us have reimagined the use of our home space, not only to include a place to work, but also to create a space to pray and to mark sacred occasions. A number of people developed new routines, checking in on each other on a regular basis. Some of our students showed better results with Hebrew learning when working online with less distraction – these are but few examples of creativity that emerged from the disruption.
Nor is this kind of transformation really new. My teacher, Rabbi Lionel Blue z’l, suggested that following the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem by the Romans, the focus of Judaism has shifted from the splendor and formality of the Temple in Jerusalem into every Jewish home: ‘The father became a priest, the mother a priestess, and the dining room table an altar… The candles, the clothes, the white of the tablecloth brought the holiness and mystery of tremendous events into the surroundings of daily life. In the world of rabbinic Judaism, the synagogue emphasized doing and knowing, but the home was concerned with being, with memory, and experience.’[1]
As we prepare to return to the world of the synagogue that we have all missed so much, let us retain some of that Jewish holiness we have managed to bring back into our homes, our mikdash mei’at, or ‘small sanctuary’. As we figure out when and how we will be able to share big meals at TE, let us reach out to a few friends – old or new – and invite them into our homes for a small Shabbat or Festival meal. Above all, let us remember to cherish the good things we have figured out this year, even as we once again embrace the world we have missed so much.
[1] Blue, Lionel ‘To heaven with Scribes and Pharisees: the Jewish Path to God’, 1975:38
“Resilience is often described as a personal quality that predisposes individuals to bounce back in the face of loss. Resilient leaders, however, do more than bounce back—they bounce forward.” (Elle Allison, “The Resilient Leader”)
Over the years I have learnt great many things from my mentor, Rabbi Mark Winer. He was (and remains) a great mentor – he would always say: ‘learn from everything I do, especially from things YOU think I am doing wrong!’ Perhaps the most important lesson I have learned from Mark is how institutions should act in times of trouble: leading not from fear but with vision. While it is entirely understandable to respond to a crisis of any kind by circling the wagons and holding off on doing things that may cost money (holding back, cutting programs), it is often the wrong thing to do – if we lead with the vision we need to use the times of crisis to re-commit to the key elements of our work, improve and expand upon it. When the crisis is over, the renewed strength and resilience of the community will be the beneficiary of the forward thinking.
As we begin to emerge (please God!), slowly and carefully, from the physical, mental, financial and spiritual devastation of a pandemic, I am grateful to the leadership of TE and to all our members for not only supporting each other and our community at this time of trial, but also for continuing to be true to our vision and our mission of community building, Jewish learning and Tikkun Olam.
A few years ago we began to address the urgently growing need for space in our school, as well as our continued desire to transform spaces within TE to better reflect our welcoming nature, and to respond to the needs of our community. As we were about to begin the construction, the pandemic hit… We could have said ‘let’s wait and see’, and delay the project, but if we did so, we would have found ourselves today getting ready to re-enter the building with severe shortage of classroom space. Instead, today we are ready to ‘bounce forward’ – with two spacious new classrooms, with a welcoming Kiddush lounge and a redesigned lobby, that creates multiple spaces for TE members young and old (and everyone in-between:) to enjoy each other’s company at the oneg after the service or during Religious school.
None of this would be possible without the resilient leadership of our synagogue community, and without the crucial support of all of our members. I am grateful and honored to serve alongside TE leaders who engage in building and sustaining our community every day. Chazak, chazak v’nitchazek!
