A little over one year ago, I stood before you as the new President of Rodeph Shalom. We were still talking about emerging from a pandemic. I introduced myself, and asked:

Who am I and Why am I here? Who are you, and Why are you here?

So here we are, almost a year to the day since October 7 and nothing feels the same. I don’t know about you, but my personal identity as a Jew and what it means to be a Jew today in America has been tested in ways that were unimaginable a year ago. And yet, if anything, my faith and hope in this community is stronger than ever.

Admittedly, this has not been an easy time for anyone. In a large, diverse congregation such as ours, we hold many different views. Trust me on that one! But that diversity is what makes us strong.

How has Rodeph Shalom navigated these turbulent times? The answer is as old as the Torah and as new as our efforts to constantly reinvent and redefine what we do consistent with our vision. I believe that RS stands as a shining avatar for how to confront these current crises – fully imbued with our Jewish values. We have leaned into the complexity, the nuance, and to quote Rabbi Maderer’s Rosh Hashana sermon – the “nonbinary”. We have accepted the challenge of having difficult conversations. Like our Clergy, I too am truly proud of our Israel ConnectRS and Israel-Palestinian Discussion groups for modeling how to engage, listen and treat each other with respect, even when we fundamentally disagree. Just this past Sunday, 50 more than of our congregants came together to engage in deep, honest discussions about how they were feeling about what was going on in Israel and their deepest feelings about their Judaism. The conversation in and of itself is both the means and the end. As it is said in the Talmud, “An argument for the sake of heaven will have lasting value. An argument not for the sake of heaven will not endure.”

I have never seen the need to come together as a community more profoundly than right now.  This past Monday, we marked the one year anniversary of October 7.  We hosted a deeply moving memorial service where we packed every seat in the chapel with congregants representing all ages and demographics. The feeling of community and solidarity was palpable.

We are actually seeing a surge in engagement and affiliation after a time when many congregations were seeing the exact opposite trend. The level of intense and thoughtful engagement by our affinity groups has never been higher. You can feel the electricity, pride, and dare I say hope that pervades this building when you walk through our doors. I encourage those of you who don’t typically come to the building on a Sunday morning when our Berkman Merkaz Limud is in session to stop by sometime; it will simply make you smile.

We can’t do any of this work without devoted clergy, staff and volunteers. In a recent survey about this “surge” in engagement, the Union for Reform Judaism found that on average there is only one staff member for every 26 newly-engaged congregants. On the other hand, there are actually two congregants to each newly engaged member. We already know that we do not have enough resources to fully serve all of the needs of our community. And that is where you come in.

Let me issue two challenges to you today. First, look within yourself, and ask, what really matters to you?  Now, more than ever, is the time to recommit to this community and make it a priority. We can stay true to our values and assure the strength, health, and vitality of our congregation by centering Rodeph Shalom in our lives. Whether that’s by getting involved and joining an engagement group, coming to services, volunteering to make calls to those in our community in need, raising your hand to work on a program, and yes, finding a way to increase your philanthropy through membership gifts or general giving. I can’t emphasize how important your personal investment in RS is today, and how impactful that investment will be for the future. Many of you have stepped up financially in the past year, and it’s making a real difference.  As it is said in the Shulchan Aruch: “One who is engaged in attending to the needs of the community is just like one who is engaged in Torah study”. There is no higher calling. (Shulchan Aruch, Orah Hayyim 93:4).

Second, we have a unique opportunity in this post-October 7 “surge” in engagement. Our community is hungering for connection and community. We need to roll up our sleeves, and exercise our RS muscles and do that wonderful engagement work we are known for.  So when you’re here, if you see someone new, please reach out to them – find out what brought them here and how we can help make them feel truly part of our community. Many come and don’t even necessarily know exactly what they are looking for other than feeling a need to be with other Jews. It us up to each of us to help make them feel at home – that they belong here.

It is said in Psalms – “This is the generation and those who seek its welfare.” (Psalms 24:6) We are the generation in whose hands the future of Judaism squarely rests. This is a pivotal moment in Jewish history, and for our community and our congregation. I know you will join me in meeting this moment.

Rabbi Maderer’s sermon last night at Kol Nidre focused on hope. I know I have hope. When I look around this great assembly, I see hope. While times are difficult, just look around this room at each other for a moment. We wouldn’t all be here if we didn’t have hope for a better world, and a better future.

I wish you a happy and healthy New Year. Let us hope and pray that when we return for next year’s High Holy Days, we find a world reborn, filled with hope, renewal, and Baruch Hashem, with peace.  G’mar chatima tova – may we all be sealed in the book of life. Gut Yontiff.

 

 

In the beginning, there was dark, empty space.  Then there was a burst of energy, and the process of creation could be discerned in the vastness of nothing.  During eons of time, universes, far flung galaxies came into being.  There was darkness and there was light, there was earth and sky, sun, moon and stars, there was life and there was humankind.  We viewed our domain, considered the distant planets and stars and deduced that all this was created for us:  the air for our breath, the sun for our warmth, the earth for our produce.  We looked into the eternal abyss beyond our world and dreamed of space and time without end.  We lived in the paradise of innocence in which no threat existed to goodness or to life.  But then death came into the world, and completion of our earthly existence.   For the first time we felt fear.  We began to lose our vision, and in our confusion we pondered only as far as our own end.  The tranquility of life ceased.  We came to know agony and pain, strife and war, cruelty, oppression and slavery.

Out of that slavery came forth a people.  This people gazed at the distant heavens and their vision of eternality returned.  They perceived a vast, creative universe.  Despair turned to hope, darkness gave way to light.  The heavens called to this people:  “you are my witness,” cried the majestic but demanding voice.  “only you have i known.  Only you, of all the peoples on earth, feel at one with the creative powers of the universe.  Only you see and feel  the awesome rays of the sun , but do not worship its source.  Only you stand in awe of the moon and stars, but do not bow down to them.  You give testimony to the glory and power of life.  Only you hold it sacred above  all else.  Only you feel the heartbeat of all generations of humankind, feel the pulse of life beyond your own age.  You are my witness to the goodness and potential of human life.  Only you will strive to turn wormwood into parchment; only you will cite slavery as reason for compassion.  You are my witness,” thundered the voice.  But then the sound of instruments and singing could be heard.  This people had forgotten the voice.  This people danced around a golden calf and ascribed to it power and might.  At first the voice was angry.  It wanted to destroy this people.    But then the voice wept  “there can be no dream without a dreamer.  There can be no witness without a people.”   The voice offered a challenge – not for your sake will i save you, but rather for mine  – for the sake of this world.  The people became Israel and Israel again became the witness.  This was another beginning.

For us there have been centuries of anguish and sorrow and death.  Again and again we have been reminded of our finite existence.  Yet we ever have been a faithful witness.  Hope has emerged from suffering;  restoration has risen from the ashes of destruction.  Always we have kept our eye on the infinite, clinging to a vision of a  messianic future.  “Hear, o Israel,” has been our admonition.  “I believe with perfect faith,” has been our response.  From Egypt to Canaan, from Spain to America, from Auschwitz to Israel, we have endured, nay, we have triumphed.  Now, we here, wear the mantle of our  inheritance, proudly proclaiming that we, too, are witnesses, answering over and over: I believe.

I believe that we can and do participate in the creative process of life.  We are endowed with the capacity to make of life something it is not.  Philosophers will debate the nature of the universe.  They will ponder the truly difficult question of human freedom.  Many will conclude that we are fettered by what we are, locked if you will in a container from which we cannot escape.  Our parents were not our choice.  We had little to say about our childhood environment, whether strict or laissez faire, wealthy or poor, urban or rural, tense or relaxed.  No choice at all did we have in the selection of the color of our hair, the sound of our voice, the capacity of our mind.  Some of us do not like what we are:  brunette becomes blond, blond becomes auburn.  We would have liked to have someone consult us:  how tall would we like to be, what color eyes would  have, what hue skin would we prefer?  But we were not asked!  What we are in large measure was settled long before we were even aware that the issue was in question.

Yet I believe in a dynamic world, not one which is static and stagnant.  We were not forever restricted by the mold in which we were formed.  If that were true we would never be responsible for our own behavior.  Our tradition very much holds us responsible.  “I have set before you the blessing and the curse, good and evil, life and death.  Choose that which is right and good that you may live.’  nowhere do we find the implication that we are helpless pawns in a genetic chess game.  Foreign is the notion that accident alone determines what we are and what we do.  Others are not responsible. Only we contribute to the present and future generations of humankind.  What we do and what we are does indeed make a difference.

A legend – thirty six just human beings roam the earth.  They are the lamed Vavniks.  The Hebrew letter lamed vav correspond to the number “thirty six.”  The lamed Vavniks do not necessarily know who they are.  A lamed Vavnik came to Sodom, the sin filled city of biblical lore.  He was determined to change the behavior of Sodom’s inhabitants, to rescue them from inevitable punishment.  Day and night he walked the streets and markets, preaching against greed and theft, falsehood and indifference. In the beginning people listened and smiled ironically. Then they stopped caring. He no longer even amused them. The killers went on with their killing.  The wise kept silent, as if there were no just man in their midst. One day, a child, moved by compassion for the unfortunate preacher, approached him questioningly:  “Poor stranger.  You shout, you expend yourself, body and soul.  Don’t you see that it is hopeless?”  “Yes, I see,” answered the just man.  “then why do you go on?”  “I’ll tell you why.  In the beginning, I thought I could change humankind. Now I am not so sure.  If I still shout today, if I still scream, it is at least to prevent others from changing me.”

I believe in tikkun olam – in our capacity to repair a broken world. I believe, however, that the task begins with us. If we are unable to change ourselves then we will be helpless to transform  humanity. I do believe in repentance – that we can be different today from what we were yesterday.  Our lives do have meaning and relevance.  We struggle – yes.  We endure pain and disappointment – yes.  Sometimes we feel like Sisyphus, pushing  a massive boulder toward a mountaintop, when its  unalterable course is to roll back down the mountain without ever reaching the summit.  We feel destined to strain against that terrible burden to all eternity.  Yet, it might even have been possible for Sisyphus to understand something about life  – that  the struggle itself has meaning. We never reach the apex of existence.  Life does require work. But in that effort, we also experience joy and fulfillment.  We come to understand  that life offers infinite numbers of  possibilities to do something that is worthwhile.  So we alter our own perspective, to be optimistic rather than pessimistic, hopeful rather than anguished.

I believe in America. Our heritage of freedom has allowed beliefs and ideas to flourish in our nation. When Thomas Jefferson campaigned for president he was verbally assaulted by religious leaders of his day because he had advanced the notion that this was to be a non-religious nation, and that the constitution should reflect that fact.  Jefferson understood that there could be no higher authority than the will of the people if this was to be a democratic society.   I believe in a nation where we welcome the stranger, we guarantee that women will have control over their own bodies, where all people of every race, religion, ethnic background, sexual orientation has equal standing and equal opportunity. We will care for the widow and the orphan and the poor and the immigrant, and we answer in the affirmative – yes, I am my brother’s keeper. The reading of books will not be censored by any government agency and freedom of and freedom from religion will be honored I believe in an America that cherishes the holiness code of the book of Leviticus, that you shall not steal, that you shall not deal falsely with one another, that you shall not defraud your neighbor – where honesty and integrity shall prevail.  I believe in an America in which, in the words of reassurance by George Washington to the Jewish community of Newport, “we give to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance” – an America where, “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself”, the admonition of FDR after Pearl Harbor, where we can all hold hands and sing “this land is your land, this land is my land, this land was made for you and me.  We, the Jew, promote freedom and democracy for all people.

I believe that we are especially sensitive to the pain and the agony of human history.  We sit in this magnificent sanctuary surrounded by its glory and its splendor   the very walls speak to us from the past.  Think of the tens upon tens of thousands of men and women, of children who have worshiped within these walls, the famous and the ordinary, the exhilarated and the woeful.  They speak to us of our history and of our destiny.  They remind us that we are Israel, that we have a mission to fulfill.  Their visions and their dreams never should we be restricted by the walls which house them.  Our commitment is to people as well as to  buildings; to life, as well as to institutions; to ideals as well as  just the words which state them.  Long age we abandoned the practice of bringing our offerings to the temple mount.  The practice of sprinkling blood upon the altar became abhorrent.  It satisfied no universal demands and it distorted the  message of the faith it represented .  No longer are we part of a cult and no longer is the religious leader a high priest.  We do not come here once a year, twice a year or fifty times a year to bring our offerings and thus fulfill our commitment as part of the people of Israel.  We are a prophetic people who stalk the earth indignantly.  The message we bear is not  restricted to time and place.  It is eternal, it is universal.  Because we were slaves in the land of Egypt, because we were the pariah in every country on earth, because we were the victims of the most heinous crime in all of human history, because we are the people  Israel we cry out against human suffering.  We are intolerant of injustice.  We are impatient with societies and governments which are indifferent to the misery of the stranger, the plight of the impoverished, the distress of the oppressed.  “seek justice, relieve the oppressed; let justice well up as waters, and righteousness as a mighty stream,” demanded the prophets.  We responded, “we will do so and we will obey.”  We, the people of Israel, exist in order that humankind may hear the warning of Amos that a fat and complacent society will destroy itself.  We exist in order that they may encounter the vision of Micah, that there will be a time when nations will live at peace, when people will live without fear.  This mission has always been our reason for being and this forever will be the banner of this people, Israel.

So I believe that we can and will respond to the call to gaze at the distant heavens and see beyond our own lives.  Of all the creatures on earth, only we have the capacity to envision a future different from the present or past.  Life has meaning and purpose because the creation of that future is possible.  The moon is within our reach, the sun and the stars a  goal not too far off.  “I have placed heaven and earth before you,”  spoke the voice.  It is the fulfillment and the opportunity, the striving and the accomplishment which have been laid at our feet.  Always there is heaven–always that which is beyond our reach.  The struggle is as important as the serenity of achievement; the dream as important as the reality.  Any animal  can build a shelter and hunt  food.  Only we can see beyond the basic needs of life.  Only we can infuse life with a sense of significance beyond the moment.  When we touch the lips of our children and our children’s children, we are blowing breath into the future, we are feeling its beat, we are sensing its life-blood.    When we plan, when we build, when we create we are giving something of ourselves to the generations of the future.  Not only for our own sake do we share in life’s joys and sorrows, not only for us do we know the ecstasy of love and endure the stabbing pain when it is taken from us.  We hold hands not only with our own generation but  with people of every generation.  We have a sense of history, of time.  We have a commitment to all life in all times and in all ages.  We can and do and will remain the idealists of humankind, seeking the stars, listening to the voice.

Out of the darkest mystery did life begin.  Out of the bleakest conditions was Israel born.  Life evolved,  Israel developed into a people, a witness people, witness to the creative process of the universe, to the sanctity of life, to the potential  for justice and righteousness among men.  I believe that we shall always be a faithful witness, that we shall always bring forth the law from Zion and the word of the lord from Jerusalem.  We shall ever have the courage and the devotion and the idealism to be different and even unique.  The words of the prophet will always speak to us:  “let all peoples walk each one in the name of its god, but we

Will walk in the name of the lord our god forever and ever.”  Amen.