“Chazak chazak v’nitchazek. Be strong, be strong and we will be strengthened. We are finding new strength as we help ourselves, our neighbors and friends through this difficult time. Your strength and support from afar will help us when we feel weary. And together, we will be stronger – as we move from this tragedy forward. ” – Rabbi Adam Miller, Temple Shalom Naples Florida
Hurricane Ian has left a path of destruction in Florida, and your help is needed for individuals, families, and businesses who have become displaced or have experienced loss.
The Harry Chapin Food Bank of Southwest Florida, Inc. is preparing to distribute food and water to the people who need it as quickly as it is safe to do so. Click below to perform and mitzvah and give back to those in need. Click here to make a donation.
When I handed down my decades-old ripped blue-jeans to my teen-aged daughter and I told her: they were so old that they used to be my fancy jeans, she asked, how that could be so–why would I have bought ripped blue-jeans, as my fancy jeans. “Well, honey, they were not ripped when I bought them… only recently did people start to purchase jeans, with holes already torn!
A congregant recently told me about her clothing mending business called Love My Schmatte. A part of the visible mending movement, there’s no subtle, same-colored stitching. Stitching and patching are meant to attract attention.
With an intent to discourage people from discarding clothing and producing textile pollution, visible mending demonstrates values-driven choices and makes mending and re-use a sustainable fashion look. Visible mending is a walking example, of exposed imperfection and repair.
In these Ten Days of Repentance, repair/tshuvah in our relationship with God, can happen only after we have made things right in our relationships with other people. We begin with confession—(and of course, this is Judaism so we are not confessing to an intermediary). We confess to the people we have harmed so they know, we own our actions. On Yom Kippur we will cry out to God: We have stumbled and strayed; anachnu chatanu / we have done wrong. In our soul-searching before we reach Yom Kippur, we turn to each other to say: I have done wrong.
According to the Jewish thinker Maimonides, it is praiseworthy to confess, as publicly as we sinned. Harm an individual one-on-one? Confess to that individual privately. Inflict harm on someone at a staff meeting in the presence of co-workers? Confess to that entire staff. Cause harm in an institution, in a nation? Confess to all witnesses, perhaps, even to the world. Maimonides’ teaching of Confession – so honest, so exposed – is the opposite of covering up, or of subtle, same-colored stitching.
Expanding on Maimonides’ message about confession, in her book, On Repentance & Repair: Making Amends in an Unapologetic World, Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg illustrates the power of a victim-centric approach—that is, a focus on the feelings, needs, and healing of the victim. With Confession, by owning the harm, the wrong-doer lifts a portion of the burden, off the victim. She teaches: “Resistance to [confession] is a manipulative way of denying reality-which piles more harm on top of the original offense.”
Of all the steps of tshuvah, I think Confession is the most counter-cultural. In a society that favors cover-ups more than honesty, liability protection over accountability, and filtered presentation over reality… it’s no wonder that, truths that can rock the boat, are scarier than the actual holes in the boat. When the first response to harm we have caused is: how can I make sure no one finds out, rather than: how can I make sure everyone who witnessed, knows my behavior was unacceptable, we are shaped by a culture of fear, rather than accountability.
Perhaps, confession is not only counter-cultural in our own time. There is a story of a woman and a priest in the ancient days of the Tanakh/Hebrew Bible, that is traditionally read on Rosh Hashanah. This woman Hannah, deeply distressed in her infertility struggle, visits a Temple. Overcome by despair, yet holding onto hope, she quietly prays to God. Elie the priest, seeing Hannah’s lips move, but hearing no sound, accuses her of public drunkenness, and scolds her to sober up. Hannah explains to Elie that in her anguish, she has been pouring her heart out to God. When Elie the priest realizes he was wrong, he responds: Then go in peace and may God grant you your prayers. Hannah accepts his blessings. Elie has extended himself with a kind word, but notice: he does not outright admit his offense or commit to doing better the next time he has the opportunity to give someone the benefit of the doubt. And in their unequal power balance, she does not call him out on that, but simply accepts that he has ceased to scold her, and that he offers kindness–his safe tshuvah.
Could Hannah be thinking: “Well, is it me or did he just harshly judge and scold me, and then not acknowledge his unfair assumption? Did that just happen? Or did I make it into something bigger in my mind than it actually was?”
Denying her the validation that confession brings, even with his kindness, he offers a quiet pay-off, in his blessing. Hiding the truth of his wrongdoing, protecting himself from emotional exposure, and taking the safe route, the priest Elie lets himself off the hook.
A cautionary tale- to any of us tempted to avoid, facing hard truths about ourselves. What would it mean to learn from Elie’s shame, and in our shameful moments when we have harmed others, to embrace teshuvah with the first step of Confession, in a way that is less safe, less comfortable, less minimizing of the harm, more centering of the victim’s feelings…to face our fears about how harmful we can be, and about the consequences that can result?
To take responsibility. To say: I have done wrong.
Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg tells the story of how the Hollywood producer of the television show, Community demonstrated, and his victim confirmed, the power of confession. After earlier vague apologies on his podcast, about being a bad boss, producer Dan Harman unequivocally and publicly confessed his sexual harassment of a woman in his writer’s room. To that same podcast audience, Dan Harman later said of the sexual harassment: “I let myself keep doing it, and it’s not as if this person didn’t repeatedly communicate to me, that was I was [causing harm]. I just didn’t hear it, because it didn’t profit me to hear it.” He confessed, that following her rebuff, he treated her cruelly–did things he says he never would have done, had she been male. After Harman’s public confession, the woman whom he had harassed, responded that she felt validated for her own experience and suffering. After having endured the harassment, the loss of a potential mentor, the doubts about what happened, and about whether she really had talent, it gave her some relief; it helped. This producer rejected safe confession, and leaned into riskier truthful confession. He opened himself up to litigation and risked his reputation. Focusing on the needs of the person he harmed, choosing her wellbeingover his own comfort, he did not attempt to hide his actions, or avoid consequences. With a reach as public as his reputation, the confession announced: he owned his wrongs; he set the record straight and held himself to account, offering a model for our own tshuvah, to be less safe and more honest.
Amends and changed behavior are critical, and how powerful–hard, countercultural, but powerful– are those initial words: “I was wrong.”
The power of confession is real. This summer Marta Kauffman made a generous donation to Brandeis University, establishing an endowed professorship in its African and African American Studies Department. The impact lies not only in the donation, but also in the public confession: Kauffman has been outspoken with her regrets, about the lack of diversity, both in front of and behind the camera, on her hit television show, Friends. Reflecting on the time following the murder of George Floyd, Kauffman speaks of more deeply understanding systemic racism and examining the ways she participated. She publicly says: “I knew I needed to course-correct. I’ve learned a lot…Admitting and accepting guilt is not easy. It’s painful looking in the mirror. I’m embarrassed that I didn’t know better, 25 years ago.” With a reach as public as her reputation, the confession announced: she owned her wrongs, offering a model for our own tshuvah. Amends and changed behavior are critical, and how powerful–hard, countercultural, but powerful– are those initial words: “I was wrong.”
Or, we were wrong. In a speech commemorating the 40th anniversary of the end of World War II, then German president Richard von Weizsacker, offered what was essentially a confession: “Who could remain unsuspecting after the burning of the synagogues, the plundering, the deprivation of rights, the ceaseless violation of human dignity? Whoever opened their eyes could not fail to notice that Jews were being deported. But… there were many ways of shunning responsibility, keeping mum… All of us, whether guilty or not, are liable for it. … If we remember that disabled persons were put to death in the Third Reich, we will see care of people with mental illness as our own responsibility. If we remember how people persecuted on grounds of race, religion and politics and threatened with certain death, often stood before the closed borders of other countries, we shall not close the door today on those who are persecuted.”
Forgiveness of the Nazis, I do not believe is possible; but validating the experience of the Holocaust survivors—this means something.
Every human being, every institution, and every nation inflicts harm. The question is, when we do, will we acknowledge with confession, bear responsibility, and engage in tshuvah? This year, leaders of our national Reform Jewish Movement engaged in a painful process of reckoning, conducting independent investigations of past misconduct. Sharing publicly their devastating reports, they confessed a history of abuse of power, (which I addressed earlier this year). In keeping with Maimonides’ standard, the Reform leaders’ confessions were as or more public than the sins, messaging to the entire impacted community that this behavior is a violation of our values and profoundly wrong. I do not believe the reports reveal a problem, particular to the Reform Movement; they reveal a truth of abuse of power in our society, our communities, Jewish and not, religious and not. Amends and transformation are critical, and how powerful–hard, countercultural, but powerful– are those initial words: “We were wrong.”
Whether we have sinned publicly, or simply, privately failed a friend, in our institutions, our boardrooms, our kitchen tables, from justice work to our most intimate relationships…We all need to hold up a mirror, with scrutiny to ask: when was my behavior harmful, when was I a bystander to harmful behavior, in what ways do I benefit from harmful behavior, and how do I need to take responsibility. This sacred Jewish time compels us: to present not only our filtered selves, but our honest selves, to find the courage to expose the vulnerability of imperfection. All walking examples of brokenness, with soul-searching work, we can also be walking examples of repair.
This morning in the Unetane Tokef we spoke these words to God: You urge us to return from our ways and live. In these holy days, striving for repair and growth, we do the painstaking work, to return from our ways and live…That we may open the prayerbook on Yom Kippur and read:
God, You teach us the true purpose of confession: to turn our hands into instruments of good. Receive us, as You promised, in the fullness of our heartfelt tshuvah.
My kids love to play pretend. Nora has a stuffed fox, named of course, Foxy. The other day, Nora declared “Today is Foxy’s birthday.” In fact, most days, it’s Foxy’s birthday. So there we were, making a birthday cake out of wooden blocks (as you do) and I pretended to take a big bite out of my piece when Nora suddenly stopped me and said, “Daddy, you can’t eat that! It’s not real.”
As children (and as adults), we play pretend, we make-believe, and to a certain degree, immerse ourselves in our fiction, even though, at the end of the day, we know it’s not ‘real’. We know we can’t actually eat the wooden block cake, but we suspend disbelief for a moment, and suddenly, that wooden block is a real piece of cake.
Well, in addition to Foxy’s birthday, today is the birthday of the world! On Rosh Hashanah we recite the piyyut, (the medieval poem) Hayom Harat Olam, which declares, “This is the day of the world’s birth. This day all creatures stand before You.” Tomorrow morning we will suspend disbelief for a moment and pretend that God created the earth 5,783 years ago on this exact day and that we stand in judgment before that omnipotent Creator.
Today is the birthday of the world, but it’s not really. From the sages of the Talmud to the medieval commentators like Maimonides, Jews have not taken the Creation story as literal history.
And yet, we re-read these stories every year. We recite the narratives that they might become our own. We pass them on through the generations. Philosopher Rebecca Newberger Goldstein writes in a commentary in “The New American Haggadah”:
“Stories are easily dismissible as distractions, the make-believe we craved as children… But tonight we are asked to take this faculty of the mind, so beloved by children and novelists, extremely seriously. All the adults who have outgrown story time are to be tutored tonight, with the physical props meant to quicken our pretending, and the ways of the child to guide us. Like the Passover seder, tonight (and through this High Holy Day season) we are all asked to use our imaginations and play a little bit of make-believe.”
According to the 2020 Pew Research Center’s study, about 40% of Jewish Americans describe themselves as atheist or agnostic; with their affiliation to Judaism focusing on cultural or ethical ties rather than a belief in God. And that number is even higher among Reform Jews.
And yet, all of us are here to immerse in the narrative that God created the heavens and earth. To imagine ourselves standing before God in judgment. Are we really judged by God? Did God really create the world? Is it real? Is it fake? Maybe that binary is not the most helpful way of looking at these ideas.
Jennifer Powell, a librarian in Tuscaloosa, AL recently shared on social media: “I have made it my mission to unteach children that ‘fiction is fake.’ Here are my new definitions I started teaching today:
Nonfiction = learning through information.
Fiction = learning through imagination.”
So then the question becomes less about what is real or fake and more of, what can we learn from pretending? How can we be inspired by playing make-believe? How can we be moved by imagining that, Hayom Harat Olam, “This is the day of the world’s birth. This day all creatures stand before You.”
As a former parent in our Buerger Early Learning Center, I loved receiving articles and resources from our center director Leah Briggin and our director of Judaic content, Andi Miller. One article was about the benefits of make-believe for our children and noted three ways pretend play nurtures a child’s development. It helps them:
Work out confusing and scary life issues: Have you ever witnessed children pretending to visit the doctor? One child dutifully holds the mock stethoscope as the others line up for a check-up. More often than not someone gets ‘shots’. This is a child’s way of exploring an experience that is common and sometimes confusing or scary
Imagine what does not yet exist: Think about the kid who creates a shrinkinator, out of blocks. Maybe one day, because of that imagination, that children will be an engineer who actually works on currently non-existent microcomputing technology.
Cultivate social intelligence: Pretend play requires communication and social skills. Through pretend play, children learn to read social cues, take turns, and ultimately create community.
These concepts are not limited to children. As adults, we too can gain the same insight from playing make-believe. And this has been proven scientifically. Our brains are wonderous organs that we are still just beginning to understand. Our imagination can have profound real world effects on our lives.
Have you heard of phantom limb syndrome? It is a condition in which patients experience sensations, often extremely painful, in a limb that does not exist. It is very common in amputees, and typically is a chronic condition, often resistant to treatment. In one type of phantom limb syndrome, a patient’s phantom hand is clenched so tightly that the phantom fingers and phantom fingernails inflict unbearable pain upon the phantom palm. Many of these patients can’t escape the pain because their phantom fists are paralyzed in this eye-watering clench. Although the phantom hand is not actually ‘really’ there, the pain is very much real.
A brilliant researcher, Dr. V. S. Ramachandran recently discovered a surprisingly low-tech solution. He had his patients put their remaining non-phantom hand into a box, tightly clenched, mimicking the position that they felt their phantom hands to be in. Inside the box was a mirror. When the patient looked down, they didn’t merely see their actual hand; they saw its reflection as well, which looked just like seeing the phantom hand. By slowly opening their only real hand, they could make it look as if they were opening both of ‘hands’. And, sure enough, this deceived the brain into thinking that the phantom hand had opened. This relieved the pain.
These patients know that they only have one real hand. They knew that the box contained a mirror. But the illusion (even though they knew that it was an illusion) was what the brain needed to behave appropriately in the real world.
We know it’s not ‘really’ the birthday of the world, we know we aren’t ‘really’ standing before God in judgment… and, if we imagine, if we pretend, this might be just what our minds need to help us in this real world. Pretend play can help us all, just as pretend play helps children; helping to work out difficult life events, helping to imagine a future that has yet to exist, and helping create community. So let’s pretend, Hayom Harat Olam, “This is the day of the world’s birth. This day all creatures stand before You.”
Comedian W. Kamau Bell tells the story of his daughter’s favorite tv show, Doc McStuffins. It’s a favorite in our house as well. For those that aren’t familiar with it, it is an animated show about a six year old black girl who is a doctor for her stuffed animals and toys. In the show, Doc’s mom, a black woman, is a real doctor who treats people. The show also has non-animated interludes with black women who talk about their paths into medicine.
One great aspect of the show is that it prepares children for the doctor; it makes them less scared. Through these types of role plays, researchers say, children become more comfortable and prepared for life events in a safe way. We have a magic stethoscope at home and my kids love to play Doc McStuffins with their own toys and W. Kamau Bell talks about how when it was time for his daughter to go to the doctor, she wasn’t scared at all, in fact, she was excited!
Pretending helps prepare us for difficult and challenging situations. It helps us work out confusing, scary issues in our lives. For kids, this might be going to the doctors for the first time. For adults, it might be the existential dread of our own mortality. Hayom Harat Olam, “This is the day of the world’s birth. This day all creatures stand before You.” We stand before God in judgment. Tomorrow we will hear the haunting melody of Unetaneh Tokef, a prayer which asks us to consider that our lives are in the balance. “Who will live and who will die? Who by fire and who by water?” Why read such difficult, scary liturgy? In his commentary on this prayer, Rabbi Ed Feinstein writes:
Who will live and who will die? Who by fire and who by water? I sat in shul for years reading these words before I realized the answer. The answer to each of these questions is: “Me.”
Who will live and who will die? I will.
Who in their time and who before their time? Me. Like every human being, when I die, it will be at the right time, and it will also be too soon.
All year long we might pretend that we are in control…but the holiday skillfully strips us of all that.
Unetaneh Tokef asks us to stop pretending that we are in control and instead to seriously pretend that we might die this year. Our tradition offers us props as well like fasting, or wearing a kittel, a white shroud, to help us ‘play dead.’ Morbid, perhaps, but kids do it all the time. They casually pretend, “Ahhh! I’m dead.” It can be jarring at first to adults, but experts say this is developmentally appropriate. In their play, children inherently understand something that we as adults often miss – we can’t ignore the hard parts of life. By normalizing death, by pretending and really immersing ourselves in the imagery, we can better prepare for the inevitable. When we use play and make-believe to face the difficult situations in life, we realize what is most important and we hopefully live richer, more fulfilling lives.
Doc McStuffins really is one of the best shows on TV. It is groundbreaking because it offers role models of black women in medicine. Young people, actually all of us, need images, visions of what does not yet exist in order that we might strive for it. Mae Jemmings, the first black woman to go to space, was inspired by the late Nichelle Nichols, who played Lt. Uhuru on Star Trek. The Rev Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was a trekkie and once met Nichelle Nichols. At the time, she was thinking about quitting the show. When King heard this he told her that she absolutely should not. He told her that Star Trek was the only show that he would allow his children to watch. He told her she was crucial to the civil rights movement. King said, “for the first time on television, we will be seen as we should be seen every day, as intelligent, quality, beautiful, people who can sing, dance, and can go to space.”
Kamau Bell notes that after watching Doc McStuffins, his daughter’s image of what a doctor looks like was a black woman. One day he was with his daughter at the doctor’s office; the doctor walked in… and… it was a white man. And she says, “What the… That’s not a doctor. Doctors are black women. Frankly dad, I’m not sure if white men are ready to be doctors. I’ve never seen a white man as a doctor.”
Star Trek and Doc McStuffins imagine a better version of our world. During these High Holy Days, we are presented with that same vision; a better version of ourselves, a better version of our city, a better version of this world.
Hayom Harat Olam, “This is the day of the world’s birth. This day all creatures stand before You.”
Imagine a world where we all stand equitably before God. By pretending and immersing ourselves in worlds like Doc McStuffins and Star Trek, which are sadly still, all too make-believe, we change perceptions and realities. We need to see those visions of hope, those visions of the future to be able to dream and to be able to make those dreams a reality.
In a recent interview on the theme of imagination, Jewish parenting expert and author, Dr. Wendy Mogel, talked about a research study where audience members were monitored with sensors while watching a production of DreamGirls. She says:
What they discovered is relatively shortly that their heartbeats were synchronized. Émile Durkheim coined the term collective effervescence that as a species, we are designed to respond to each other’s vibrating mirror neurons, and as audience members in a theater, we are experiencing both collective effervescence and a synchronized nervous system, and this is what we’ve been so deprived of during quarantine, to experience watching the musical, or certainly performing in a musical…
When we imagine together, when we collectively immerse ourselves in the same story, we form community. Children use play to cultivate social intelligence according to experts. Put more simply, we all use play to create community. Playing make-believe with a classmate or friend teaches kids how to read social cues, recognize and regulate emotions, and negotiate and take turns. And the same is true for adults; when we worship together, when we share the same narrative, it can have a profound impact on our lives.
We are connecting with one another and it has been so missed. That is what we are doing when we gather in this sanctuary for worship. We are watching the musical and performing in it! We each play a part and we need our entire congregation to be complete.
Hayom Harat Olam, “This is the day of the world’s birth. This dayall creatures stand before You.”
There are Jews who believe, and Jews who disbelieve. But I think the majority of us are Jews who make-believe…
Abraham Joshua Heschel famously stressed that we achieve Judaism not through a leap of faith but through a leap of action. And yet, in these Days of Awe, we are asked to take a leap of faith. To make-believe. To pretend because pretending leads to action. It can make us better people and make the world a better place.
This High Holy Day season, suspend disbelief and let’s play pretend together. Let’s make-believe that, Hayom Harat Olam, “This is the day of the world’s birth. This day all creatures stand before You.”
Sharing Space with Jews in ALL Hues these High Holy Days
We are grateful to be in a values-driven community that embraces diversity; yet, an honest look at our community reveals that we have not reached the diversity toward which we strive. For instance, the percentages of Jews of Color at RS does not approach the national percentages. So we are exploring ways to demonstrate our support for the needs of Jews of Color. Our EID/Witness (Equity-Inclusion-Diversity) leaders and congregational Anti-Racism study have taught us so much! Listening to experts and to members of historically marginalized identities has helped us understand that past approaches and assumptions are often not the most helpful. For instance, now understanding that there is no such thing as colorblind helps us shine the necessary light on identities in their belonging. Understanding minority loneliness for some in an integrated space helps us understand the importance of affinity spaces.
Jews in ALL Hues, a locally-based national group, has requested space to gather in person for their mostly online High Holy Day services. Of course, at RS we seek to welcome Jews of Color; yet we are listening to this group’s needs and we welcome the opportunity to support them even as we reinforce our congregation’s mission to provide inclusive services for us all. This Jews in ALL Hues service is designed to serve Jews of Color who are not members of a congregation with an affinity space, and we welcome their growing relationship with Rodeph Shalom. They have requested an out-of-the-way space for their privacy and feel the Beth Ahavah Historical Sacred Space on our lower level is perfect. We see the poetry in their use of a space that honors another historically marginalized community, and that marks our LGBTQ+ community’s historical need for an affinity space even as the congregation embraced the LGBTQ+ community into the whole.
We are grateful to be on this EID journey with you all, working to create a community that is more whole.
Have you been reading Staying Connected’s fascinating factoids about Israel’s scientific advances? Did your children enjoy Israeli dance and a falafel lunch last May to celebrate Israel Independence Day? Did you hear the D’var Torah of Rabbi Tamir Nir, spiritual leader of our new sister-synagogue in Israel, Kehilat Achva Bakerem?
All these developments come through the efforts of Rodeph Shalom’s newest Connection Group – Israel ConnectRS – initiated and chaired by Ned Hanover with the help of Rabbi Eli Freedman. Ned faithfully attended monthly meetings with Rabbi Josh Weinberg, VP of the Union for Reform Judaism. With Rabbi Weinberg’s guidance and inspiration, Reform congregations throughout the US are strengthening bonds with our Jewish homeland and bringing to the forefront Israel’s remarkable accomplishments.
“It has been a joy to watch Israel ConnectRS blossom over the last 12 months,” Ned said. “It started as simply an idea to engage our Rodeph Shalom family on the topic of Israel. Now it is just amazing to see a passionate group bring this vision to life by creating innovative programming.”
“Keeping with Rodeph Shalom’s vision of connection, Israel ConnectRS aspires to forge new and meaningful bonds between our congregation and the land and people of Israel,” Rabbi Freedman said. “I am so excited for all we have done so far and hope to do in the future.”
Israel ConnectRS has ambitious and exciting plans for this coming year. Among the most anticipated: the Israel Speakers Series. Elaine Crane, co-chair of the series said, “We’re extremely pleased and proud to bring Jason Isaacson, internationally acclaimed authority on the Abraham Accords, to inaugurate our series.”
Among Israel ConnectRS’ 25 congregant members are RS Past Presidents Rick Berkman and Fred Strober, whose long experience and connections to the broader Jewish world have already benefited this young group. “It is time for Rodeph Shalom to become more involved in discussions with and about Israel,” Rick said. “We are all part of one Jewish people.”
Our Jewish practice, as well as the practice of countless other minority religions in our nation, is protected by the separation of church and state, a separation that was trampled on by this week’s Supreme Court ruling in favor of a public high school football coach who engaged in public prayer while on duty and welcomed students to join him.
Public prayer led by public school officials establishes state religion, contrary to our Constitution’s First Amendment and in the case of a captive, vulnerable audience such as students on a sports team, coerces Americans in the minority. Whenever a vulnerable population is targeted, it signals to us a violation of the moral mandate from our tradition that teaches us to love the stranger, the widow, the orphan. We are deeply concerned about the overturning of long-standing precedent that protects the separation of church and state, about the religious fundamentalists advancing their aims, and for those students who are the first to be impacted.
This Sunday, the first ever session of Camp Indigo Point will begin. Camp Indigo Point, according to their website, aims to offer traditional camp experiences — such as canoeing, archery, swimming, sports, arts & crafts, and outdoor excursions in rural Makanda, Illinois.
So what’s the big deal? It sounds like lots of camps that many of us went to as kids…
What makes Camp Indigo Point unique is that it is a camp specifically for LGBTQ+ youth to build intentional community with each other. Again, according to their website:
Camp Indigo Point seeks to give LGBTQ+ youth the chance to experience a community of peers in a fun, exuberant, affirming environment. We hope that by creating a space where LGBTQ+ youth can share their hopes, fears, and stories, we can empower young folks to carry the feeling of queer community wherever they go.
Clearly this camp was filling a need as within a few weeks, the camp was full and already had a 50 person strong waiting list. Camp Indigo Point is not a Jewish overnight camp. So why am I talking about it tonight? Well, first – it’s Pride Month! And second, the camp was started by a Reform rabbi and a Jewish summer camp song leader.
Shira Berkowitz was building a career in Jewish camping when a camp told them not to return. Berkowitz told The Forward in a recent interview, [quote] “It got around that I was that was queer, and that that wasn’t appropriate for me to be a program director for girls. And that was really harmful to my identity. I went back in the closet for a few years.”
Berkowitz’s career and personal identity recovered, and they went on to work at Camp Sabra, Missouri’s biggest Jewish overnight camp, which they described as far more accepting. Berkowitz continued, [quote] “But I was also very aware that there was almost no queer staff, except for myself and one or two other people,”
Berkowitz and longtime camp friend Daniel Bogard, a St. Louis rabbi who is raising a transgender child, dreamed up the camp late last year, as the Missouri legislature was gearing up for a session in which three anti-trans bills were introduced within the first month.
It’s no surprise that alumni of Jewish camps are leaders in the effort to create inclusive camps. Jewish camp has long been recognized for the leadership skills — problem solving, communication, creativity, independence, critical thinking — which are developed and refined as a camper or as a counselor. And most importantly, recognizing, honoring, protecting and providing for the queer community is a Jewish value. And we see it in this week’s portion, Nasso, from the Book of Numbers.
This week, we read about the famous Birkat HaCohenim/The Priestly Blessing.
Adonai spoke to Moses: Speak to Aaron and his sons: Thus shall you bless the people of Israel. Say to them: May God bless you and keep you! May God’s light shine upon you and may God be gracious to you. May you feel God’s Presence within you always, and may you find peace. Thus they shall link My name with the people of Israel, and I will bless them.
This powerful blessing is now used at various services and life-cycle moments in Judaism. I offered this blessing just moments ago to little Asher and tomorrow Cantor Hyman and I will bless Drew and Rachel with these same words. In a moment, I want to delve into this blessing and how it speaks to our need to celebrate and protect our LGBTQ community but first, let’s start at the end. The most profound element of the blessing lies in the concluding sentence: “Thus they shall link My name with the people of Israel, and I will bless them.”
In the ancient world, magi, oracles and soothsayers were held to have the power of blessing. They were able to invoke supernatural forces. Next month we will read the story of Bilaam and Balak about an evil king who hires a sorcery to curse the people of Israel. There was a real belief in ancient times that certain people had the power to bless and curse.
But it is clear from our text that it is not the priests who bless the people, but God. In themselves, they have no power. They are intermediaries, channels through which God’s blessing flows. Similarly, we as clergy are not special – we have no magical powers. It is not just clergy or cohanim (the descendants of the ancient priests) who can offer this blessing. Traditionally parents also offer this blessing to their children every shabbat. We are all agents of God’s blessing – we all have the ability to bring God’s blessings into this world.
Our threefold benediction is simple yet powerful. It begins, [Heb] “May God bless you and keep you.”
The word for keep, shamor, can also mean to guard; it is about protection. We, this very community, acting as the metaphorical hands of God, have the power to shamor, to protect and guard our LGBTQ community against those that seek to curtail their rights. We have the power to bring security, safetly, the ability to feel comfortable in one’s own skin. To be free to live full lives without fear. We can protect the most basic fundamental rights that are enshrined in our sacred Torah and in our constitution. But words are never simply enough – blessings inspire us to act. To truly bless and guard our LGBTQ community we need to show up.
Consider joining me next week on June 14th for a program co-sponsored by Keshet (an LBGTQ Jewish advocacy organization), WRJ (Women of Reform Judaism), and the RAC (Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism) called, “Active Allyship: Reform Jews Showing Up for Fundamental Rights”
At this online program, we will learn how current trends in anti-LGBTQ+ and anti-abortion legislation and threats to bodily autonomy are interconnected and how we, as Jews, can be active allies and fight against these bills. Plus, hear from a Jewish transgender teen, an educator, and a medical provider about how the current political landscape is affecting their lives. Advocating for LGBTQ+ rights is a mitzvah — join us to act upon and live in our Jewish values fully this Pride Month.
The second line of the blessing is, [Heb] “May God’s light shine upon you and may God be gracious to you.”
Ya’er – to light up, to shine a light on. This is about being seen. Representation matters. This is about using the correct pronouns for people, about ensuring that our bathrooms and other signage is inclusive and representative. This is about avoiding heteronormative langauge that assumes all people are straight and cis-gendered (meaning their gender identity is that same as their assigned gender at birth). We see this part of the blessing being lived out in RS pRiSm programs like “Our Queer Jewish Journeys” where we lift up and shed a light on the variety of queer experiences within our diverse Rodeph Shalom community.
Shining a light on our community is directly connected to the second half of this line – may God be gracious to you. We understand – chen, grace to mean God’s unconditional love, a spontaneous gift from God to people, generous, free and totally unexpected and undeserved. What would it mean in our world for us to be instruments of God’s grace? To love all people unconditionally, without regard to their sexuality or gender – or even more with regard – not in spite of, but because of their uniqueness, because we celebrate the divine and the diversity in all people – created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of God.
And lastly, the final line of the blessing, “May you feel God’s Presence within you always, and may you find peace.”
Peace, shalom. Not as in an absence of war, but rather wholeness. The Hebrew word Shalom comes from the root shin, lamed, mem, meaning completeness, fullness, wholeness. Ultimately, this is one of the greatest gifts any of us can hope for in this life; to feel whole and complete. To be seen for the whole of our being and to be included.
As I think about wholeness this year in Philadelphia, I am heartened to know that our own Pride Celebrations this year are much more whole. After reports of racism and transphobia, Philadelphia Pride organizers disbanded and started anew with a much more inclusive vision of what pride month in Philadelphia could look like. The new and improved Pride is much more inclusive of the trans community and black and brown members of the LGBTQ community.
But we still have a long way to go. Our aspirational Birkat kohanim/Priestly Blessing implores us to be God’s angels, to be messengers of the divine.
Pride is about celebrating – I love the rainbow flags, the parties, the parades. But as so many of you know, the first pride was a riot. A riot led by mostly trans people of color. Pride month is about activism and protecting the most vulnerable among us.
Speaking about the need for Camp Indigo Point, not just in times of crises, Shira Berkowitz said:
We believe that LGBTQ+ youth deserve a place and environment made specifically for them in community and safety with lgbtq+ adults to thrive as kids: have fun, build lasting friendships, take risks, and build joy.
Camp Indigo Point, the new reimagined PHL Pride Collective, and our own pRiSm group at RS, are amazing examples of living out the priestly blessing in meaningful ways. These are organizations that are truly working to bring God’s blessings to our community. May we all continue to partner with God to shamor/to protect, to ya’er/to enlighten, v’asem l’cha shalom, and to bring shalom/wholeness to our LGBTQ community and to the world.
Today marks the 50th anniversary of women rabbis in America. June 3, 1972, Sally Priesand becomes the 1st woman ordained in our country and the first woman ordained at a seminary. And, now over 1000 women and non-binary rabbis later, we understand: even honored firsts, are complicated.
There was a woman rabbi ordained before Sally. Rabbi Regina Jonas, history has since revealed, was the first woman in the world to be ordained. Although not from a seminary, Rabbi Jonas was ordained in Germany in 1935, served the community in Berlin, and then during the Holocaust, pastored in Terezin until she was murdered at Auschwitz. Jonas’ rabbinate cut tragically short by the Nazis, and her story buried, Rabbi Sally Priesand always reminds us: Rabbi Regina Jonas was the first. But the history predates Rabbi Regina Jonas as well. For, the story of “firsts,” is also the story of “almosts.”
Just several years ago, when Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion (HUC-JIR), the Reform seminary, was in a search for a new president my teacher Rabbi Dr. Carole Balin applied and advanced as a finalist. She did not get the job. After a different candidate—a man—was appointed president Dr. Balin reflected that when HUC eventually appoints a woman, some day in the future, her own achievement as a finalist will be a part of that story. Often times, in the journey of social change, the almosts, take a next step. Yes, with excitement I celebrate 50 years of women in the American rabbinate, and we should not be marking 50 years of women in the American rabbinate; we should be marking 100 years.
Our Rodeph Shalom Suffrage Project has uncovered the impact of women’s voting justice work. It is no coincidence that only one year after women get the vote in 1920 the Jewish community begins to take baby steps toward equality. In 1921, Martha Neumark is taking courses at HUC and applies to join an academic track towards ordination.
In 1922 the Central Conference of American Rabbis (CCAR) – the Reform rabbinic association, which is independent from our seminary – at its annual convention, attended by rabbis and their wives, debates the question: do rabbis need to be men? In the middle of the men’s discussion, the meeting chair turns over the floor, to the wives– 3 women speak! It is then, 1922, that the men of the CCAR decide “Women cannot justly be denied the privilege of ordination.” 100 years ago. Because women spoke. How often social change is about, who gets a voice.
But, back at the seminary, that next year, even though the CCAR rabbinic association would accept her, the Hebrew Union College seminary Board of Governors votes it down. Martha Neumark is denied a track to ordination. Indeed, the story of “firsts,” is also the story of “almosts.”
To be clear, Rabbi Sally Priesand, was almost an almost. She later learned that the HUC president Dr. Nelson Glueck’s life-goal was to ordain her; apparently his Board still needed convincing.
For in response to Sally’s first inquiry here is an excerpt from a letter from HUC, June 17, 1963:
Dear Miss Priesand, Women are welcome in any of our courses, and we would be glad to discuss with you the various programs in which you might be interested. Since you state in your letter that your interests lean specifically to the rabbinate, we would have to inform you candidly, that we do not know what opportunities are available for women in the active rabbinate, since we have, as yet, not ordained any women. Most women prefer to enter the field of Jewish religious education.
Isn’t it a common motto of change resistance: Well they don’t want access anyway.
From a letter dated June 20, 1963:
Miss Priesand, Some clear knowledge on your part, of what it will mean to you, to have graduated from our school, is essential for you, prior to your thinking about entering.
Isn’t this a common strategy of change resistance: the waiting period – from Sally’s not-quite-admission letter, to limits on reproductive rights, it’s interesting to look at the waiting periods, that ask: are you sure you’ve really thought about this? — that show up in resistance to social change.
Three not-quite-admittance-you-can-enroll-but-we-probably-won’t-ordain-you letters later:
May 14, 1968: Dear Sally (first name basis-they must be old friends by now!)– Dear Sally: I am pleased to inform you officially, that you have been admitted to the Rabbinic School of Hebrew Union College. Dr. Glueck and the Faculty join me in welcoming you, and in expressing good wishes for your happiness and fulfillment, in your studies in the rabbinic department!
From that first letter in 1963, to Sally’s acceptance letter in 1968, Dr. Glueck must have very been busy. Finally, the Board of Governors is sufficiently convinced.
Once Sally is enrolled at HUC, Dr. Glueck is determined to help her, and women, become accepted by the Reform Movement. He invites her to lead a prayer at the Board of Governors meeting, and to lead services when they are in town. And knowing congregations may be slow to invite her to lead, Dr. Glueck arranges for speaking engagements to help prepare the field for her ordination. True wisdom- he helps her pave the path through inequitable circumstance.
Still, what a burden Sally Priesand carries through the wilderness of those early years, and all with no peers –no women classmates or colleagues, with whom she could share. During her student years, there are classmates who pose dating and marriage options and there are faculty who encourage it, because they think: maybe if we can get her married, we can get rid of her.
Beyond the initial achievement, being the first, means stretching people’s imagination about identity–can they see you as a rabbi and as a non-male, all at once? –as a woman, a mother, a wife, a CEO, and a religious authority? Being the first means climbing out of the boxes of definition, such as gender roles. It is not a coincidence that in her daily climb, to be respected as a rabbinic leader, Sally does not find space to marry and have children, as she originally thought she might. I believe she knows how harshly she may have been judged, had she integrated the identities beyond people’s imagination.
As a student and then as a rabbi, instead, her focus is on, being the best–for being first means there is no room for mediocrity. She always feels she needs to be better. We owe her a debt…for her sacrifice, but most of all for her lessons.
Rabbi Priesand teaches humor—and if she can maintain a sense of humor, we all can.
Rabbi Priesand teaches us to appreciate the allies, from Dr. Glueck to her own classmates — who she likes to share, all spontaneously stood in solidarity at her moment of ordination — to the head of job placement who, when she could not get hired and wanted to write a pointed article, told her it would destroy her career, and instead, he would take the risk — he would write an article with these points, to use his power, to open people’s eyes.
Rabbi Priesand teaches us to not lead with ego. A symbol of controversy, she does not get sucked into conflict. In response to offensive comments, she just says “Thank you for your opinion” and walks away.
To the B’nai Mitzvah guests, who say “you’re the first woman rabbi I’ve ever seen” she responds: “I hope I won’t be the last.” And that has been the essence of her rabbinate. Rabbi Priesand always says: I’ve tried to not only open the door, but also to hold it open, for others to follow in my footsteps.
We at Rodeph Shalom have felt the impact of Rabbi Priesand, holding open the door for others.
I recently had the privilege, of interviewing the 2 women who served as rabbis at RS before my time here. Our first, Rabbi Patrice Heller, began in 1981 and served for 5 years; our second, Rabbi Ellen Greenspan, began in 1986 and served for 4 years. As much as Rabbi Heller and Rabbi Greenspan found their work here meaningful, and loved their connections with congregants, it was not easy for these vatikot—these early women. No doubt, I owe them a debt. We all do. And I honor their contribution to our journey.
Last night, in a national gathering of female-identifying and non-binary rabbis Rabbi Priesand, now well into retirement, shared: she would have thought, we would have made, more progress by now.
Indeed, the journey continues, in the work of: pay equity, career advancement, family leave, Reform Movement leadership, and combatting gender misconduct and bias…and in the work of: belonging for all marginalized identities, that we may build a Jewish clergy and community, that reflects the multi-gender, multi-ability, multi-racial, multi-generational diversity of the Jewish People.
I honor 50 years of women in the American rabbinate, and we should not be marking 50 years; we should be marking 100 years, at least. So, as we celebrate the firsts and the almosts, their stories compel us to ask: What should the Jewish community have understood and acted upon 100 years ago, and today, what should we understand and act upon now, for the sake of community, equity, and the future of the Jewish people? Our work, for the next year, and the next 50, is to understand, who are the firsts and the almosts, who need to show us the future.
Rabbi Sally Priesand opened doors.
For gender justice and beyond,
may we be inspired to open doors,
and to hold them open,
for those who followed Rabbi Priesand,
and for those who will follow us.
Shabbat Shalom.
*Drawing on: Sacred Calling, Jewish Women’s Archives, Teachings of Rabbi Dr. Carole Balin, Women Who Would be Rabbis, Dr. Pamela Nadel
Rabbi Jill Maderer
Congregation Rodeph Shalom, March 11, 2022 Vashti is Now: Accountability in the Reform Movement Sexual Misconduct Reports
Next week, we celebrate Purim. It is undisputed: the Purim story is implausible—never happened. Megillat Ester/the Book of Esther is a farce. A text for a ridiculous time when the Jewish calendar prescribes that we let go of the weight of the world and laugh. And trust me, at our Sunday morning shpeil and carnival and our Wednesday Erev Purim celebration, you will see: I welcome that lighter side of Purim. For when we fulfill the mitzvah/the sacred act, to hear Megillah and we see the shpeils/the creative skits, we should laugh. It isn’t real.
And. Even comedy offers some truth. That’s what makes it funny— a shared understanding. With Megillah, sure enough, moments worthy of a serious look, before Purim arrives. Moments when we say: yes. That tells our story. We see our world, our society, ourselves. When Esther faces fear and finds her bravery in the words: maybe you are here for just this time- maybe you have attained power for just this purpose. And we hold up a mirror to ask ourselves: for what purpose are we here? For what purpose can we use our power? It’s our truth, too.
And Vashti. Before Esther enters the picture, the Megillah teaches: King Ahashverosh attempts to coerce Queen Vashti into dancing naked for his party guests. Queen Vashti refuses. And she is never seen again – Banished, killed, or somehow disappeared. For years, I’ve told this coercion part of the story, by mocking Ahashverosh, making fun of this silly man — or of any man – who does not understand how wonderful it is to be with a partner who can think for themself. Twisting it into a positive message that we can draw out of our megillah.
But tonight, I’d like to be sure to do so with eyes wide open. Not in a Purim moment of levity, but in a harder look at the truths in our narrative. In the explicit lessons we ought to learn.
What does King Ahashverosh’s story say about consent, and what does our storytelling of an abusive king — cast as a silly fool – say about accountability? In ultimately protecting the Jews at the end of the story, Ahashverosh does finally see things Esther’s way, and ally with our people. But we cannot allow ourselves to forget the king’s role in the first half of the story. The king abuses his power with Vashti. And in an often glossed over part of the story about the king’s acquisition of a new wife, he is in a position to coerce the young women who are brought to him to audition for the position of queen. Bad enough that he would be judging the young women on their looks, it was assuredly not only their looks that were involved in the pageant. Reflecting a different time and society, the text does not even pretend the women have agency.
And the king…is it because the king eventually helps to save the Jews, that when it comes to his abuse of women we tend to let him off the hook? Do we forgive Ahashverosh his misogyny because he joins our stand against Jew-hating? Tonight, let’s lift the masks and uncover the truth. Let’s not miss this: in his abuse of women, the king takes no responsibility. He is never held to account. And we cannot pretend that only happens in ancient Persia. Aren’t there today, too, the many who feel license to coerce, who abuse power, and often because of their talents, contributions, or status, they are never held to account. Silenced, their victims witness their impunity.
Indeed, something of Vashti’s truth is shared with many women and people of all genders who sit and listen to Vashti’s story, and knowingly nod and understand. Victims and survivors who have been unseen, unheard, dismissed, disappeared.
The Reform Movement just issued the last of the 3 sexual misconduct reports of the leading institutions of our national Reform Jewish community. Our Reform seminary, Hebrew Union College/HUC, our rabbinic arm, the Central Conference of American Rabbis/CCAR, and our Movement of congregations and summer camps called the Union for Reform Judaism/URJ, conducted independent investigations of past misconduct and shared publicly their devastating reports. I honor the courage of survivors who came forward and also respect those who have chosen not to. If my raising this topic for you triggers trauma, please consider reaching out to clergy or to the resources offered below.
Of our seminary, HUC: the investigation reports decades of sexual abuse, harassment, a culture of protection of abusers, of gender-based bullying and professional gatekeeping, and of sexist attitudes. Hundreds of women were harassed or assaulted by men in the very highest levels of power including HUC presidents. Women before my time look back on their ordination—a memory I have the privilege of cherishing—and they recall their abuser or their friends’ abuser laying his hands on them, tarnishing their sacred moment. HUC has committed to a process of tshuvah/repentance that includes accountability, learning, restitution, and change.
Of our rabbinic arm, the CCAR: the investigation reports on an ethics process, in need of repair. Already the CCAR has taken steps to improve and professionalize the ethics work and has committed to create a better future, both for victims and for accused rabbis. Accountability is critical for the victims, for justice, and for safety. And also, a process for accountability is important because we are all imperfect. We all have the capacity to do wrong, real harm, and need paths for repair. Not all offenses are of the same severity; that’s the problem with zero-tolerance policies. There is a difference between someone’s worst moment, or in the case of a predator, someone’s many moments. So paths of tshuvah are complicated. I’d guess you can say, as I can: I know people who have been victims and I know people who have been accused or have perpetrated. It is my care for all of them and my love of the rabbinate that makes me long for fair processes and just outcomes.
Of our Movement-wide arm, the URJ: the investigation reports a history of URJ staff and camp professionals’ harassment, covering up, and boundary-crossing. In my involvement with Camp Harlam I am grateful to say I have witnessed a new reality. For years, URJ camps have become a shining example of transformation past societal wrongs into safe practices. What I have seen in places like URJ Camp Harlam and URJ Six Points Creative Arts Academy are environments for youth that are as safe, respectful, and Jewish values-driven as any setting that I have experienced, anywhere.
And still, no justice can feel complete. Among the many tragic effects of misconduct, I see the fate of Vashti. So many of these victims dismissed, unseen, even vanished. Their disappearance from Jewish life reflects deep pain that breaks my heart. But it is not only the victims’ loss. It is the Reform Movement’s loss, the Jewish People’s loss. Potential talents, clergy, would-be leaders, congregants, Early Learning Center parents, souls…lost to the Jewish world.
We will never be able to reconnect them all. What has been taken, cannot fully be restored. So we devote ourselves to ensuring: we do not allow for another Ahashverosh.
I do not believe the misconduct reports reveal a particular problem in the Reform Jewish community.
The reports reveal a problem—a truth—that exists throughout our society, our institutions, our communities, Jewish and not. It is not only hundreds of women who were abused by power at HUC; it is hundreds of all genders in your workplace, at your school, in your neighborhood.
Those words from the Book of Esther “you are here for just this purpose” demand the Reform Movement, our congregation, and each of us, hold up a mirror and ask ourselves: “for what purpose can I use my power?” compelling us to bring our voice where we have influence:
to do the hard work of improving systems that hold predators and enablers accountable and guard against retaliation;
to update staff trainings, reporting practices, and HR manuals;
to reject excuses for the abusers who are contributing to their field or donating to our cause;
compelling us…
to transform cultures of absolute power and covering into cultures of safety and respect;
to listen when someone discloses even if they accuse someone you admire, even if your support puts at risk your own friendship, career network, financial gain, or reputation;
compelling us…
to never ask what she was wearing,
to share resources for survivors’ healing—to combat shame and ensure no one faces pain alone;
to learn more about how we can shape communities that are worthy of trust.
This is the ongoing work for our congregation, and for us all.
As for the Reform Movement reports, by undertaking the investigations and releasing them publicly–imperfect and incomplete though the reports may be—and by committing to repair, the Reform Movement has acted with integrity, modeling for us, tshuvah. It is ours to stand with our Movement, to not avert our eyes from injustice, to take responsibility in the pursuit of safety, equity, and truth, for the past, present, and future.
On Purim, we bring the joy. And for this moment, we uncover hard truths.
Refuse to be Ahashverosh,
the one with no accountability.
And refuse to be his enabler.
See Vashti in her story of invisibility.
Hear Vashti’s calls from banishment.
Know Vashti in our story of tshuvah.
Because Vashti is not in Persia,
and Vashti is not in the 5th century BCE.
Vashti is here, Vashti is now,
her fate, our responsibility,
her story, our truth.
In this holy community, may we use our power for justice,
Compelled to heed the words of Megillat Esther—
you are here for just this purpose.
___________
If raising this topic triggers trauma or pain for you, please consider reaching out to clergy or to a resource:
WOAR: Philadelphia’s Rape Crisis Center, woar.org;
While we have no reason to believe there has been misconduct at Rodeph Shalom, we seek to ensure everyone’s safety, so we have set up a confidential email for reporting misconduct in the congregation: confidential@rodephshalom.org
As COVID cases have dropped 90% from national pandemic highs, our Pandemic “How We Gather” Task Force has recommended that we loosen our protocols. In doing so, we are prepared to re-implement protocols with very short notice if trends change and case/positivity/hospitalization levels rise.
We are saddened that thousands of mostly unvaccinated Americans continue to die each day from COVID-19. Most of these deaths were preventable.
We also understand that it has not just been the disease itself but the impact of quarantining on both work and personal lives. We have read of cases where a parent had a very mild case but could not hug their children for 10 days.
We continue to act according to our Rodeph Shalom Reopening Values & Plan Guidelines adopted in May 2020. Specifically:
• We follow the science
• We follow the government regulations even when they do not apply to houses of worship
With widespread vaccination fending off severe disease for most of those who are vaccinated, the thresholds of mandates and our protocols are no longer based on cases but rather on severe disease and hospitalizations.
Mandates
The City of Philadelphia 4 levels of mandates are tied to 4 levels of COVID spread. Although the mandates may not apply to RS because we are a house of worship, our Board has stated that the government regulations will serve as our minimum protocols. Following these mandates helps us to protect our community.
As I write this, we today have reached the Level 1: All Clear/Low Community Level. Philadelphia mask requirement mandates have been dropped except in schools and healthcare settings and on public transportation.
We are now dropping our building’s vaccination verification procedure. However, we continue to require all who enter the building who are eligible to be fully vaccinated and boosted when eligible.
Starting March 7, Rodeph Shalom is planning to drop its mask requirements for services and most events. As the Philadelphia School District continues to have a mask requirement, Berkman Mercaz Limud will continue to have its mask requirement. When the Philadelphia public schools drop its mask mandate, Berkman Mercaz Limud will reconsider whether to drop its mask requirement. Similarly, the Buerger Early Learning Center (ELC) continues its mask requirement for children ages 2 and up as well as for its staff. For all who are on site during hours of operation of the Buerger ELC, masks continue to be required in our hallways.
We understand that our Congregational membership views on precautions vary widely. We know that many of our members are or live with individuals who are immuno-compromised or who have children under 5 in their households. As we move forward, we are committed to continuing our multi-access approach to our services and programs.
We are delighted by the recent trends. We have learned over the past two years that the only constant is change. We are prepared to respond to any COVID-19 variant spread changes. We will always put protecting the lives of our community first.
