A conversation overheard in Grand Central Station, recounted in Kathryn Schultz’s book called, “Being Wrong:”

You said pound cake.

I did not say pound cake; I said crumb cake.

You said pound cake.

Don’t tell me what I said.

You said pound cake.

I said crumb cake.

I actually saw the crumb cake, but I didn’t get it, because you said pound cake.

I said crumb cake.

Well, I heard pound cake.

Then obviously you weren’t listening; crumb cake does not even sound like pound cake.

Well, maybe you accidentally said pound cake.

I said crumb cake.

~and scene~

It feels so good to be right.  As “crumb-cake” author Kathryn Schultz says:

One of the downsides of wrongness is this: If I know I’ve been wrong before, it reminds me I could be wrong now – maybe I did say pound cake!  And being wrong now might lead me to believe – it could happen again. 

We are imperfect. Only with the acknowledgement of wrongness, can we live our lives fully, can we sustain our relationships, can we learn, can we grow.

In the words of the Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai:

From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.

We cannot be human and always be right.  We cannot be human and always do right.  The Hebrew word for sin, chet, comes from an archery term – we miss the mark.  Tomorrow morning in the Unetane Tokef, we will pray these words to God: “Elohenu melech mochel v’soleyach / God of Pardon and Forgiveness– You do not wish the death of sinners, but urge us to return from our ways and live. You wait for us.  If we return, You accept us at once.”  Our imperfection does not distance us from God and with tshuvah/repentance, it need not distance us from one another.  To sin is to turn away; with tshuvah we turn back.  When we go astray the conviction that we can change and improve is the source of our hope to mend and to grow. 

Our tradition’s faith in our potential, does not mean that repentance is easy.  Our sages provide a guidebook for tshuvah, because they know how hard it is. 

A crucial but difficult step when we are wrong, is admitting: we are wrong.  Over the next 24 hours in our Communal Vidui/Confession, we will hold each other up as we together list in every way possible, our wrongs – the wrongs we committed, the wrongs our neighbors committed and we enabled, the wrongs every one of us has the potential to commit. 

Tonight, I’d like to focus on those tshuvah steps, that address what we ought to do, once we realize that we are wrong, that is, those steps involving apology. 

In Jewish tradition, apology is not accomplished by simply uttering the words, “I’m sorry;” it involves a serious process of repentance.  According to the great 12^th century thinker, Rabbi Moses Maimonides, tshuvah is our path towards taking responsibility for our mistakes, and making a change.  Maimonides outlines a process for each transgression we have committed.  Here’s what we do.  Step 1: Recognize and regret that we did something wrong.  Step 2: Articulate our regret and responsibility, in a confession and apology, to the party we harmed.  Step 3: Commit not to repeat the deed– that is, commit to change.  Step 4: When faced with the opportunity to repeat the deed, don’t make the same mistake– make the change.

If, from public confession to making amends, you see signs of the wisdom of 12-Step Recovery in here, you are not alone.  Jewish tshuvah and recovery share profound truths about the transformative power of public confession, apology, repair, responsibility, and our capacity to return to a better path.

To be clear, here’s how not to apologize:

I’m sorry you thought I said pound cake. 

or

I’m sorry that Yom Kippur services are so long! 

Now, why are those apologies invalid? 

What is the problem, when I say: “I’m sorry you thought I said pound cake?” Apology is not valid if I apologize for your thinking, rather than for my wrong action. Am I owning up to anything there?  No- just deflecting responsibility.

Now, what’s the problem, when I say: “I’m sorry that Yom Kippur services are so long?”  Actually, there are 2 problems.  First, it’s dishonest;  I don’t think they are too long, in fact, I wish we could do this all night!  Second, if I say I’m sorry the service is too long, it is not a valid apology because, although I take responsibility for the length, I have no intent to change it.

There are countless other inadequate ways to apologize: the apology for something out of my control that seeks just to shut down conflict; the over-apologizing that trivializes responsibility for harm; the very vague apology that misses the point; the apology that is not called for, and dilutes real apologies.

With so many ways to stumble, Jewish tradition guides us to focus on taking personal responsibility and making a change – tradition’s deep wisdom for us to sustain, strengthen, and mend our relationships.  As much as apology is about the past, it is about the future.

Some weeks ago, I officiated at a funeral for an elderly man, who never did the work to make amends. His family has granted me permission to tell their story.  The man was a violently abusive father.  Many people who survive such a scary childhood would understandably — as adults seeking a healthy existence — find their only option to be separation, complete estrangement from their father.  But not the case with this family.  Incredibly, the abusive man’s children remained in his life.  Not the right answer for everyone, but it was the right answer for them, and it blew me away.  The family had healed; their extraordinary emotional and spiritual health, and clarity about boundaries, led them to permit the father, to remain in their lives in limited ways, protecting themselves and their own children, but not completely severing ties.

But the father – the father never apologized, he never took responsibility, he never acknowledged he was wrong.  Why?– The family has accepted: they cannot know.  Perhaps this man lacked the capacity to reflect, to perceive self-truth, to have a difficult conversation, perhaps he was paralyzed with shame.  But there was no reckoning, he never held himself accountable, he never truly mended his relationships.  So, his relationships with his children, although not severed, could not fully develop. Intimacy could not deepen.  There was not growth. 

As the Amichai poem teaches — From the place where we are right, flowers will never grow in the spring.  Relationship, without repair, stagnates.  There is not growth.

At the funeral the family found peace, but as we lowered the casket into the earth we all understood, when it came to a deep reckoning, it was too late. 

When this man was on his deathbed, face to face with the end of his life, what might have gone through his mind?  Did he feel regret?  What did he wish he had done differently, since the abuse?  We will never know.  We only know, he did not take steps to express remorse or make amends.

When we Yom Kippur worshippers, come face to face with the reality of our finitude, what might go through our minds?  Do we feel regret?  What do we wish we had done differently?  What steps do we need to take to express remorse or make amends? Our Yom Kippur death rituals – fasting, the empty casket of the ark at Kol Nidre, white robes… demand we confront our mortality.  Death is our deadline; mortality is our reminder that there is a deadline.  Its date, unknown. When it comes to apology, making amends, spiritual growth, anything in our lives, we do not have forever. The pandemic revealed what, deep down we already knew: tomorrow is not guaranteed. Tonight is our time to heed that urgency.

The only thing we know for sure is that we are mortal.  If you have wrongs you need to right, do not wait!

Most of us have not violently abused family.  But we are human, so we have harmed, really harmed others, God, and ourselves, and may have yet to fully address those wrongs. 

Our words of prayer: God of Pardon and Forgiveness– You do not wish the death of sinners, but urge us to return from our ways and live. You wait for us.  If we return, You accept us at once – our words of prayer compel us to do the work, to return, to ensure we do not become the person who masks self-truth, avoids the difficult conversation, or becomes paralyzed with shame. 

In every service throughout Yom Kippur, our ritual includes the Vidui/Confession, and in almost every Confession, the Al Chet, the long list of sins introduced with the words: Al chet shechetanu lifanecha/the sin we have committed against you. 

Except, at the very conclusion tomorrow evening, in our Neilah service, the Al Chet sin list is replaced.  Instead we pray to God: Atah Noten Yad / You reach out Your hand… You give us the power to turn.

Tonight it’s the urgency of mortality; tomorrow night, it’s the compassion of God’s outstretched hand.  Throughout, it’s faith. 

Faith that we are not alone—that we are strengthened by, and can turn to God—whatever we imagine God may be.  Faith that we can count on one another.  Faith in our intention, to be honest with ourselves about our failings.  Faith in our potential to repair relationship.  Faith in our capacity for change.

Intimacy in our relationships, depends on the fundamental understanding, that we are imperfect.  Only when we take responsibility for our wrongs, can we grow, can we return to each other, to ourselves, and to God.  This sacred season beckons: Heed the words of our text.  Take in the depths of our ritual. With open heart, picture your casket, feel your hunger, speak your confession, do repair. 

Elohenu melech mochel v’soleyach / God of Pardon and Forgiveness–  Help us to understand deep in our souls: From the place where we are right, flowers will never grow in the spring. 

God of Pardon and Forgiveness—

You do not wish the death of sinners, but urge us to return from our ways and live. You wait for us.  If we return, You accept us at once.

Thank you for inviting me to speak today, Rabbi Maderer.

I am always struck by the beauty and solemnity of this moment, this Yizkor Memorial service that is so meaningful to all of us.  It is a time to remember our loved ones within the context of this solemn day of Yom Kippur, as our congregation gathers as one.  And whether you are here in our sanctuary or joining on live-streaming, we are as one.

And as we like to say in the beginning of our services, this is a time to take a deep breath…and release…as we put aside the cares and stresses of our daily lives and we fully focus on the lives and memories of our loved ones who have died during this past year, or in years past.  This is why we are here, both physically and virtually, to recite the names of the loved ones we have lost, and to honor their memories.

Each name represents a life.  Each name was a person – a loved one of someone who is part of our congregational family.

This service is named for the prayer we will recite shortly, the “Yizkor” prayer:  “Yizkor Elohim nishmot…”  “May God remember these names…”  In this prayer, we are asking God to remember our loved ones, praying that God will watch over them and protect their souls.  But at the same time, “the implication is that this act of remembrance also constitutes a guarantee of the continuation of the Jewish people, beyond just those we remember.    [Rabbi Aaron Panken].

We recite the names of our ancestors to honor their memory, but also to emphasize one of the most important concepts of Jewish tradition, to honor the idea of “L’dor Vador,” “from generation to generation.” In the news recently, there was a story about the attempt to rescue the historical register of Jewish burials from the modern-day Romanian city of Cluj-Napowka, which had been stolen by the Nazis during the Holocaust.  The United States government recently recovered these documents and plan to return them to their communities of origin.  They contain priceless historical information.  They contain Jewish funeral scrolls and records that were taken from the Jewish Communities in Romania, Hungary, Ukraine and Slovakia during the Holocaust. [Article in NY Times by Colin Moynihan, July 26, 2021].

Why is this so important?  Because they contain the names of loved ones who died, just as our Yizkor list contains the names of our loved ones.  Those rescued burial records represent invaluable cultural religious artifacts that should be properly returned to the few survivors of their original Jewish communities.  Burial records, hand-written in Hebrew and Yiddish.  These lists include records from cities largely destroyed in the Holocaust.

One of the survivors was born in hiding in a cellar during the war, as his mother miraculously escaped the Jewish ghetto of Cluj.  He is now the president of the JC of Cluj – and he said,  “very little belonging to our JC’s survived WWII.”  He called the burial registers “very precious for the history of our community.”  It is their memory.  The word Yizkor comes from the Hebrew word meaning “memory” – “to remember.”

Here we have a story of a group of descendants of the victims of the Holocaust who have worked tirelessly to get these burial records returned – 76 years later!   They contain the names of their own loved ones, and the names of Holocaust victims, who are no longer here to mourn their dead whose names are on these lists.  It makes us realize how blessed we actually are to be able to be here with each other as we mourn our dead.

Perhaps the greatest tragedy of the Holocaust is the fact that all of the future generations of those 6 million victims were never born.  Imagine what the world would have looked like if those millions of Jewish children and their children’s children had been given a chance to be born and had lived.  The world would have been a very different place.  I am reminded of one Jewish couple from Greece who miraculously escaped from Nazi death camps, and later had a child named Albert.  Albert Bourla grew up and became the CEO of Pfizer pharmaceutical company and he led the effort to produce the first Covid vaccine, which has saved millions of lives already.  How many other Jews like Albert Bourla may have been born, had they been given the chance?

But there are so very few left to say kaddish for the victims, and to honor “L’dor Vador”  “from generation to generation.”

This is why it is so important for the surviving remnant in Cluj to get their burial records returned to them, so they can remember – so they can say Yizkor – so they can say Kaddish for them – so their memories will not disappear, so their memories will be a blessing.

But it is also important for us to include the 6 million plus victims in our prayers, and to never forget.  While it is impossible to literally say kaddish for 6 million + people we never knew, we can start by honoring the memories of our own loved ones – at Yizkor services/ and every day of our lives. 

This is why we are here today.  To remember our loved ones who have passed on – and to keep their memories alive, “L’dor Vador” from generation to generation.

People wonder why Judaism has survived for so long.  I believe it is because of our long-standing dedication to this concept of L’dor Vador.  It is as old as the Book of Psalms, believed to date back almost 3,000 years.  In Psalm 146, we read:

            “Yimloch Adonai L’olam

            Elohayich Tziyon

            L’dor Vador – Hal’lu-Yah!”

            “The Eternal will reign for all time, Your God from generation to generation – Hal’lu-Yah!”

And that Psalm became enshrined in one of the most important prayers in all of Jewish liturgy, in the “T’filah” / simply known as the “the Prayer.”

The end of this prayer speaks powerfully to us today:   “L’dor vador nagid gadlecha…”     “We will teach God’s greatness l’dor vador – from generation to generation.  And to the end of time, we will affirm Your holiness. 

This prayer is recited and sung many times throughout our High Holy Days- and every time we say that prayer, we are making a solemn vow to be responsible for keeping Judaism alive and thriving for all time.  Each of us is a link in “shalshellet ha-kabbalah” “the chain of Jewish tradition.”  As we read in our machzor, “It is up to each of us, parents, grandparents, teachers to share its teachings with the next generation.  The chain of transmission l’dor vador, is woven not just by sages and scholars, but by all who cherish Jewish heritage and tradition.  In our topsy turvy world, the Jewish people must continue to uphold the sanctity of God and teachings of Jewish wisdom.  Each generation imparts the Jewish message of empathy, compassion and justice to the next.  Thus, we offer our next generation a solid moral grounding to sustain them over the years.”  [Mishkan HaNefesh – Rosh Hashana p. 185].

As critically important as this is, we know that in today’s world it is so difficult to ensure the future of the Jewish people.  We face so many challenges.  On the one hand, there is rising antisemitism.  And on the other hand, there are the challenges of the rising secular world, with all the surveys telling us that there is a waning interest in religion of any kind.

Some observers say the future of Judaism is in jeopardy, and that assimilation and intermarriage are going to lead to our downfall.  But I have a different opinion.  Some congregations, like ours is on the cutting edge of an open and welcoming approach – embracing all seekers with open arms – creating new pathways to provide meaning and connection to all who enter our sphere, a sphere of a vibrant and living Judaism – to inspire us to pass on our heritage L’dor Vador, from one generation to the next.

A synagogue does not belong to a single generation.  It is a place of history, which gathers up the faith of the whole people and proclaims the spirit of God which has united our people as we have hoped, and suffered and believed across the centuries. [After A. Scott Berg].

The act of remembering our loved ones through the Yizkor prayer and by saying Kaddish for them, constitutes a guarantee of the continuation of the Jewish people well beyond just those we remember here today.  In remembering and in asking God’s remembrance, we request divine help in continuing our people’s trajectory beyond ourselves to achieve the ultimate aims of our people’s history. [Panken].

And as the sun sets this day, the light illuminates a little more of the path that lies before us, as the passage of each year further defines our effort.  In one decade after the other, we see that the silhouette of our people’s history spreads across time, and into our own lives. [after Berg].   And we know it is up to us.  It is our task, our responsibility, our sacred honor to see it through to the next generation.

Today, we pledge to keep the memory of our loved ones alive, and to keep Judaism alive, to keep the Jewish community alive.  And to keep this congregation strong.

Yizkor, in the end, is not a prayer for the dead, but a promise / by the living. [Panken].

AMEN.

MATERIAL GATHERED FROM:  Mishkah HaNefesh, Yom Kippur, Rabbi Aaron Panken prayer in Yizkor Service, CCAR Press, New York, 2015.  New York Times article, “Historical Jewish Records Seized,” by Colin Moynihan, July 26, 2021.  Mishkan Ha Nefesh, Rosh Hashana, “We will teach Your greatness,” CCAR Press, New York, 2015.  Wilson, by A. Scott Berg, Penguin Random House, New York, 2013.

When I was a student at Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati studying for the rabbinate, as part of the training, HUC required that we be student rabbis in small congregations that did not have full time clergy.  We travelled every other weekend, to serve as the rabbi of congregations that had been in the program for many years. As a result, they were patient teachers of young aspiring students.

Sixty years ago, I was such a student. I selected Temple Sholom in Galesburg, Illinois, a small town in the western part of the state, the people were most welcoming. They introduced me to the town and its historic sites, one of which is Knox College. There i was introduced to a bit of history. In 1858, Abraham Lincoln was a candidate for the U.S. Senate. His opponent was stephen douglas. They engaged in a series of seven debates, the fifth of which was held at Knox College, in galesburg.  Even though Lincoln lost the election, it is virtually the unanimous opinion of historians that it was this fifth debate in galesburg that set Lincoln on the path to the presidency.

The nearly exclusive subject of all the debates was slavery. In 1858, a discussion of that subject when running for public office was a political nightmare. It was common that politicians would change their message depending on where they were speaking – in a slave state of or a free state. Political messaging often was sectional and regional. Douglas tried to accuse Lincoln of such political gymnastics.  In this fifth debate in Galesburg, Lincoln would have none of it. I quote from his speech – now, said Mr. Lincoln, I confess myself as belonging to that class in the country who contemplate slavery as a moral, social and political evil, having due regard for its actual existence amongst us and the difficulty of getting rid of it in a satisfactory way, and all the constitutional obligations which have been thrown about; but nevertheless, desire a policy that looks to the prevention of it as wrong, and looks hopefully to the time when as a wrong, it may come to an end.

Lincoln did something in that moment that changed the trajectory of his life-he advanced the discussion of slavery from political to moral. Whether it was a political death sentence or not to speak against slavery no longer was the issue – it was morally wrong, and as such there was no choice but to oppose it.

One of the early leaders of Reform Judaism in America was Rabbi David Einhorn. In 1855, he became the rabbi of Har Sinai Congregation in Baltimore. He was known as being anti-slavery. In April of 1861, he was driven out of town as a result of a sermon that he delivered on the subject of slavery. He fled to Philadelphia and for a period of time was the rabbi of Reform congregation Keneseth Israel. His rabbinic career ended in New York City. Many consider him to be the ideological inspiration of Reform Judaism in America. His prayer book, Olat Tamid, was the model for the first edition of the Union prayer book, which, for many years, was the standard siddur for Reform congregations throughout the country. 

I learned much from my years as a student rabbi, but perhaps nothing more important than from Abraham Lincoln of 1858 in Galesburg, Illinois and David Einhorn of Baltimore in 1861. Both Abraham Lincoln and David Einhorn used their pulpits to condemn slavery because it created a class of people who were considered less than human. In their minds there could be no compromise with the moral implications of that stance. 

We rabbis, your rabbis, on many occasions must face the choice between speaking out on a subject that has deep moral implications, or staying silent for fear of being accused of being political by those who disagree.  

As we join together on these High Holy Days, there are serious issues that have become political landmines, that have divided friendships and even separated families, but which cannot be ignored – issues which I as a rabbi deem it imperative to discuss, which if not given the moral weight they deserve threaten to destroy human life as we know it or worse, render it extinct – issues which i learned from Abraham Lincoln and David Einhorn must be elevated from the political to the moral. 

We hardly need more evidence than the wildfires that are consuming large swaths of the western part of our country and the devastation from this latest hurricane to prove that climate change is an imminent danger to this earth and all that live on it.  Many sections of this globe are experiencing record heat. The oceans are warming and rising, ocean currents are changing in such a way that entire continents are threatened. Arctic ice is melting. Climatologists point to numerous signs that human behavior is destroying the planet. It is no secret that some, perhaps many, serving in public office take money from the fossil fuel industry and then lobby on their behalf to prevent the development of clean energy. For many climate change is a myth, perpetrated by those who pretend to be the intellectual elite of society. It is not and should not be a political statement to say that we support those who take the human destruction of this earth seriously, and who will work to save our planet.  That is our moral responsibility. The future of life on this earth is at stake.

 I recently read of clergy in some areas of this country who have either rallied their congregations against being vaccinated for covid or are silent on the issue for fear of losing their jobs. They serve people who have a variety of beliefs about the vaccinations – that it is a lie that the vaccine is effective perpetrated by those who want to kill them or that some device will be implanted in their bodies to enslave them, or other myths spread by those who also sell snake oil. That also is true of government officials attempt to mandate against the wearing of masks. A primary obligation of Jewish tradition and Talmudic law is pikuach nefesh – the saving of life. To remain silent on the subject of vaccinations or wearing masks is to contribute to human suffering and death.  To say that any politician who does not follow the guidelines of our health experts and who places his or her political ambitions before the health and welfare of their community is endangering human life and should not be in public office is not a statement

Of political preference. It is a statement reflecting the moral underpinnings of the history of the people of Israel.

A third subject, so glaring at this moment reminds us, especially us, why our ancestors fled to America.  We came here to escape centuries of being persecuted because somehow we were perceived as being religiously evil, financially devious, less than human, or just the “other”. Now, here in this nation founded on the principle that all people are entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, we find ourselves in the midst of a white supremacist movement that would deny those rights to large segments of our population. Isabel Wilkerson, in her book “Caste”, with great clarity, explains that the early settlers of America created a caste system that said that white people were the dominant caste, and that the ideals expressed in our original documents were intended to apply only to them. The election of a black president only heightened the fears of this white caste and has caused them to rise up to attempt to rule the nation even it means the destruction of our democratic republic. It should not be a political issue that we insist that our elected officials actively support equal rights for all Americans, voting rights, educational rights, employment and social rights for all – no matter their race, religion, ethnicity, or sexual orientation. That is the America of the song – this land is your land and this land is my land. That is the America to which the lady in the harbor with the torch welcomed us all.

I do not intend to ignore many other subjects – such as a woman’s right to choose – that must be addressed. This is but a sampling of the difficult but necessary road we must tread if we are to be true to our values and our heritage.

We are here to observe Yom Kippur. Some would have us believe that we are here to apologize, to say we are sorry, to beg for forgiveness from human and divine so that all of our sins and shortcoming will no longer be a stain on our reputation. I submit to you that we are here for a larger purpose. We are here to examine our deeds, not simply for forgiveness, but to change our behavior where that is necessary – to become something better, for no one is perfect.  That must involve a personal discussion, a self evaluation about our own moral standards.  This morning we read from a prophet often called Trito Isaiah. He spoke to the people of Israel at the end of their Babylonian exile in the sixth century BCE. As they returned to Jerusalem, reminding them it is not ritual but social justice and action that must be their redemption. “is this not the fast that i have chosen”, the prophet says their god demands, “to unlock the shackles of injustice, to let the oppressed go free, to share your bread with the hungry, and to bring the homeless poor into your house?” In the afternoon service we read the holiness code, kedoshim tih’yu – you shall be holy. It speaks of deeds, not words. – to act honestly, to care for the stranger, to not pervert justice, to love your neighbor as yourself. The haftarah was from the book of Jonah who was sent to Nineveh to change the moral and religious behavior of its people. The following admonition is in the book of Deuteronomy, which we also read this morning:  this day i call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live. That is our charge. Those are our texts. That is our mission, that is the message of Yom Kippur – choose that which is moral if necessary choose that which is hard, not that which is easy. Remember pikuach nefesh – the saving of human life. Remember tzedek, tzedek tirdof – justice, justice you shall pursue. Answer the call, as did the prophet, with a resounding “here i am, send me.” So that there will be future generations who will say of us, they chose life so that we, and our children and our children’s children may live.

Good Yontif!

It is so wonderful to connect with one another virtually and in person! 

Many of us have been busy over the summer renormalizing our lives only to now contend with this recent variant wave of COVID.  However, I’m glad we can connect with one another during this sacred time. 

This is a meaningful time spiritually for all of us and for me it is a special occasion—

On the High Holy Days 50 years ago, I entered this Sanctuary for the first time.  In 1971, I was a freshman at Penn and had been directed to Rodeph Shalom by Rabbi Wice’s sister, Sophie Gordon, both of blessed memory.  Sophie Gordon belonged to my home congregation, Adath Israel in Louisville, Kentucky.

While missing my family and the comfort of my family’s pew in my home temple—a soaring, monumental 1906 Neo-classical sanctuary that I had known all my life to that point—I remember entering this Sanctuary and feeling immediately at home in this place that has become my spiritual home.   

I couldn’t have imagined back in 1971 the profound impact that this synagogue, its clergy and members, its worship services, its educational programs and all its activities would have on my life.  While my parents and grandparents were fundamental in grounding me in my Jewish values, Rodeph Shalom has been instrumental in broadening my understanding on Jewish issues and leading me to pursue a life of meaning.  Through my volunteer work here at this synagogue, I came to understand that the words of the Torah and our Jewish texts can be applied to my daily life, and that each individual can make a difference in repairing our fragile world.

Just as Rodeph Shalom has had a profound impact on my life, I know that many of you feel the same about this Congregation and this Sanctuary.  All of us here are stewards of the gifts around us given by generations of members in this Congregation’s 226-year history.  My questions to you today are: What are you willing to do to ensure that the gifts that have been entrusted to us are available to the next generations of members of Rodeph Shalom?  Are you willing to act to ensure the future of this Congregation and Reform Judaism in this city?

Over the last few years, the Board of Directors and other leaders of the Congregation have been engaged in conversations to ensure the future of our beloved RS.  As you are aware, Rodeph Shalom today still maintains its important founding principle that no one is refused membership because of financial hardship; however, this contributes to the need to continue to fund the Congregation’s visionary work through four strategic streams.

Our leaders’ conversation centers on four tracks, what I call the four-legged stool.  These four legs are (1) increasing the number of members and membership revenue; (2) monetizing the use of our facilities through rental of space; (3) increasing the contributions to our temporarily restricted special purpose funds; and (4) increasing the size of our endowment to relieve pressure on RS’s operating budget.

While RS staff and leadership are now working on all four legs, we have placed a high priority on increasing the size of our endowment.  As we have learned from the pandemic, membership revenue, school revenues and facility rental fees cannot always be relied upon in the same way as funds from endowment.  A stronger endowment will ensure the sustainability of Rodeph Shalom, so that our Congregation remains a Center for Jewish Life in Philadelphia for generations to come. 

Over the last months, Rodeph Shalom leadership has been focused on the Quiet Phase of an Endowment Campaign, which is crucial for ensuring the stability, sustainability, and the future of our Congregation.

And so, it is my pleasure today, while we are gathered in our Sanctuary and in our homes, to share with you some information about the Rodeph Shalom Endowment Campaign, which we have named Keren Or, Ray of Light.  RS Past President Susan Klehr has graciously agreed to be the Campaign Chair.

The vision of Keren Or is:

• To help provide financial stability and sustainability for Rodeph Shalom by transforming the way we fund our visionary work;
• To continue to serve the community as the only Reform congregation in Philadelphia; and
• To put RS in a position of financial strength and security so that we remain vibrant, enduring and relevant for years to come.

I am thrilled to say that we have Campaign commitments from 100 percent of the Board of Directors, and are in the process of obtaining commitments from our Board of Advisors.  We have been excited and encouraged by the confidence, enthusiasm and generosity of our early Campaign donors!

Together with our Campaign leadership, we are planning for a vibrant New Year, when we will officially launch the public phase of the Campaign.  We look forward to sharing more information with you about the Campaign at that time.  We will celebrate what Rodeph Shalom has meant to each of us, and will come together to secure our Congregation’s future.  During that time, all Rodeph Shalom members will be asked to participate in this crucial endeavor, and you will receive a personal and tailored invitation to support the Campaign.

I hope that, in the meantime, you will think about the questions I asked earlier—What are you willing to do to ensure that the gifts that have been entrusted to us are available to the next generations of Rodeph Shalom?  Are you willing to act to ensure the future of this Congregation and Reform Judaism in our city? 

To mark my 50^th year anniversary here at RS, to show my commitment to the future of this sacred Congregation, and to express my gratitude for how RS continues to support all of us during the pandemic, I felt compelled to make an early leadership gift to the Campaign.  I hope that when you are asked, each of you will make gifts to the Campaign that are meaningful to you, so that together we may ensure a Rodeph Shalom that is financially secure and strong, an RS that you are proud to call your spiritual home, a Ray of Light in Philadelphia and to the future of the Jewish people.

G’mar chatimah tovah–may you and your loved ones be sealed for the good.

Imagine a tangled rope. A lump of knots and twists with two ends sticking out. If we want to untangle the rope, we can’t just pull on the ends – in fact that will make it even worse. We need to work our way through the tangle, through the knots, slowly, delicately, painstakingly, intricately untying and unweaving until the rope is untangled.

Today, for me, that tangled rope is the current conversation about the line between anti-Israel criticism and antisemitism. And the more we pull at the ends of that tangled rope, the worse it gets.  With inflammatory comments on either side of the political spectrum like, “Ben and Jerry are antisemites,” or “Israel is committing genocide,” we are simply pulling on the ends of the rope and causing more knots, more pain, and more division in our community. To untangle this rope, we need to be in relationship with one another, listen, dialogue, and be open to nuance beyond polarizing soundbites.

One of my favorite parts about being in a large, diverse congregation is our varying opinions that reflect our different life experiences. We are taught in the Talmud (Berakhot 58a:3) that when seeing a large group of Jews we say the blessing, “Blessed are You, Adonai, our God, Sovereign of all, Who knows secrets.” Why? Because, the Talmud continues, “God sees a whole nation whose minds are unlike each other.” Our myriad of opinions are literally a blessing. 

I am excited to share that we recently convened a renewed Israel Engagement Task Force*, here, at Rodeph Shalom to learn from each other and help untangle the rope. We just held our first meeting and used the time together to simply share and listen. We heard stories such as a life changing visit to the Kotel/the Western Wall, or living in Israel during the Yom Kippur War. I shared my own story about my first time in Israel as a teenager and the immense feeling of Jewish pride and connection when my brother became a bar mitzvah on the top of Mt. Masada. I shared the story of how my wife’s grandparents fell in love in Tel Aviv shortly after the Holocaust. And I shared about seeing Israel anew through the eyes of our Rodeph Shalom teens as they discovered this complicated country for themselves on one of our congregational trips. 

Our renewed task force is not working in a vacuum and in addition to our congregational voices, we are working closely with the URJ’s Israel Leadership Network, “a network of lay and professional leaders coming together to further the Reform Movement’s connection to Israel and Reform Zionism.” 

Reform Zionism is the belief in both Israel’s right to exist and security and the Paelstinian’s right to self-determination. After the conflict in Gaza last spring, Rabbi Maderer wrote an opinion piece in The Inquirer entitled, “My empathy for Palestinians does not diminish my devotion to Judaism.” She writes: 

“Any positions that entirely demonize one side or the other miss the humanity in both; any positions that entirely affirm the pure right of one side or the other miss the responsibility in both. Devotion both to Israel’s right to exist and the Palestinians’ right to self-determination, as taught by Reform Zionism… is not often appreciated by the far right or the far left. Moderation does not lack a stance; it denies the extremists and rejects a false binary model, holding space for multiple narratives and histories.”

The extremists that Rabbi Maderer writes about are pulling on the ends of the rope, refusing to accept multiple narratives. Reform Zionism is in the middle, trying to untangle the knot. So let’s get into the tangle. The line between anti-Israel comments and antisemitism has become blurred to much of society and we must clearly mark what is acceptable criticism and what is not. 

Let me begin by stating as clearly as possible, criticism of Israel is not automatically antisemitic. On multiple occasions, our congregation has invited civil rights activist Anat Hoffman, one of the fiercest critics of Israeli policy, who shines a light on the human rights abuses committed by the state against Arab-Israelis, women, and progressive Jews. Anat Hoffman is not an antisemite. We heard from former IDF soldiers as part of the group Breaking the Silence who spoke about the pain of seeing Palestinians suffer while serving in the West Bank. Those soldiers are not antisemites. And myself and other members of our clergy have spoken about policies of the Israeli government that go against our Jewish values. We are not antisemites. 

However, there are many instances when criticism of Israel crosses the line and clearly becomes antisemitism. One framework for determining if criticism of Israel is antisemitic is the “3D” test conceived by Natan Sharansky. The three D’s are:

Delegitimization. 

Double Standards. 

And Demonization.

When people deny only the Jewish people’s right to self determination; when they characterize a return to our homeland of 3,000 years as a racist, white-colonialist endeavor and call into question Israel’s very right to exist — this Delegitimization is antisemitism.

When the United Nations human rights council calls out Israel for half of all their human rights condemnations — more than the resolutions against the regimes of Syria, Iran and North Korea combined, this Double Standard is antisemitism.

And when the Israeli Defense Force is characterized as terrorists, or Nazis, wantonly killing Palestinians in a “genocide,” this Demonization is antisemitism.

Delegitimization: the denial of the Jewish people’s right to self-determination.

Double Standards: a different moral standard for Jews and Israel compared to the rest of the world.

And Demonization: the portrayal of Israel and Jews as evil, demonic, or other sinister stereotypes.

This summer, Ben and Jerry’s made the controversial decision to no longer sell its ice cream in West Bank settlements. While some applauded the decision and others criticized it, it is actually incredibly nuanced and a good example of the tangle that is the Israel debate in our Jewish community and beyond. In the spirit of understanding multiple perspectives let’s take a look at this tangled knot. 

I’m still not sure where I fall on this debate exactly but let me lay out some of the issues as I see them. First, this boycott only applies to West Bank Settlements – not all of Israel. This action is not the same as the BDS (Boycott, Divestment, and Sanction) movement which often seeks to boycott all of Israel and ultimately, for many in the movement, to deny Israel of its right to self-determination. While our congregation does not support BDS because of these deceptive goals, the nuanced approach of only boycotting West Bank Settlements, while still selling ice cream in the rest of Israel, is actually a good refection of our Reform Zionist postion.

Second, any settlement boycott that applies only to the West Bank raises questions of targeting Israel with a double standard. I don’t know if Ben and Jerry’s sells ice cream in Tibet or Crimea or Western Sahara, and even if it does, it is legitimate for people to care about some issues more than others. I don’t find it to be automatically antisemitic that someone is more emotionally invested in what happens to Palestinians than what happens to Uighurs.

Third, a one-size-fits-all approach to settlements makes for bad policy, and that applies here as well. Not all settlers are hardline fundamentalist who believe that the entirety of the Biblical Land of Israel including the West Bank and Gaza are Divinely promised to the Jewish people. Some settlers are just average Israelis like you and me who are trying to buy a decent house in the suburbs and provide for their families. Decades of Israeli government policy, irrespective of which party was in power, promoted West Bank settlements that abut the Green Line and provided incentives for people to move there. These so-called ‘quality of life settlements,’ that the Palestinians are willing to cede to Israel as part of a land swap, are not the same as ideologically-driven, toxic, settlements deep inside the West Bank that are nefariously designed to destroy Palestinian contiguity. 

Lastly, given the history of boycotts against Jews, this is a sensitive topic. Comparing Ben and Jerry’s to Nazis is outrageous; denying Chunky Monkey to settlers is not the Nuremberg Laws or Kristallnacht, no matter how many people in your social media feed appear to think otherwise. Still, that does not negate the fact that there is a long and ugly history of boycotting Jews and restricting their economic activities.

Now the problem with all I just laid out – it won’t fit into a pithy social media post. While social media can be a tool for real dialogue, often it is used to oversimplify issues and lacks the subtlety that is needed to have an authentic conversation about a very complex issue.

Holding space for multiple perspectives requires empathy – listening to others and learning from them. Among the litany of sins that we communally confess today in our vidui is the sin of being stubborn. We chant in our ashamnu prayer, “keesheenu oref/We have been stubborn.” But keesheenu oref literally means “stiff-necked.” We are unable, unwilling to turn our heads to see another person. We are unwilling to look our friend, our neighbor, in the eye and seek to understand their point of view. We have refused to have empathy for others’ narratives. We have refused to be willing to bend, to change our opinions in light of new information. We have been fearful and acted based on our insecurities, which drive us to care only about our security. We have refused to grow or learn. Keesheenu oref/We have been stiff-necked. 

Our communal confession reminds us that we are one community and that we are all responsible for each other. And we have a responsibility to engage with Israel; to learn, to visit, to hear the stories, and to truly understand for ourselves. I love Israel; the land, the people, the culture, the food, the discomfort, the challenges, and the discourse. I pray that all of us can find our own connection to Israel as well this year.

We have space in our community for a multifaceted perspective of Israel and sharing those differing narratives with one another is what brings our community closer together. Let’s stop pulling on the ends of the rope. Let’s untangle the rope together. 

Shanah Tovah

*To join the Israel Engagement Task Force, contact Ned Hanover

L’shanah tovah.

Quite a journey.  Each step up the mountain stretching limits, even each step down the mountain demanding courage.  A journey through unfamiliar wanderings, along an uncertain path, on a quest for purpose.

When Abraham and Isaac ascend Mount Moriah and Abraham prepares to fulfill what he believes to be God’s command to sacrifice his son Isaac, what could Isaac be thinking?  When Abraham lifts his knife and at the last minute God’s angel calls it off, what could Isaac be feeling?  When the worst of it is over and it’s time to descend the mountain, how can Isaac move forward?

The Midrash tells us that before Isaac is spared, while still poised under Abraham’s knife, the angels hover over him and in their dread, they weep.  As they do, the angels’ tears fall into Isaac’s eyes, forever changing his vision. 

Even once the peak of the ordeal concludes, it is not over. As, shaken, Isaac descends the mountain, the angels’ tears remain.

The haunting narrative of the Akeda/the Binding of Isaac, in this morning’s Torah reading, tells among the most inconceivable stories in our tradition. Commentaries attempt to understand the purpose for the story, and possible ways to perceive God’s and Abraham’s thinking.  For me, in this story it is impossible to understand God or to put myself in Abraham’s shoes. 

But Isaac—we are all Isaac.  We all face loss, fear, uncertainty, loneliness, and many of us face trauma, of this year or of many years. 

When the peak of the ordeal concludes, as we descend the mountain, the angels’ tears remain in our eyes.  We are shaken.  Forever changed. 

The question is, changed how?  Scholar Betsy Stone offers this non-clinical definition of trauma: “the response to a deeply distressing event that overwhelms our ability to cope, causes feelings of helplessness, diminishes our sense of self and ability to feel the full range of emotions.”  Having endured the peak of the pandemic as well as other life experiences, many of us can relate to trauma or to adversity. 

The journey is ongoing; we are not done facing this pandemic. But we are in a different stage than we were, having experienced it enough to reflect back and to grow.  To ask: how have the tears, changed our vision, even offered insight?

As we reflect, consider the “COVID-keepers” – the new insights we seek to keep in focus.  I’ve heard from you many spiritual “COVID-keepers.”  We have learned: to no longer take for granted a meal with friends, to accept imperfect circumstance, to conquer unworthy fears, to release a need for control, to renew our sense of purpose.  If these COVID-keepers stick while we descend the mountain – while we walk forward into the next phase of our lives — that’s transformation; that’s growth. 

Jewish tradition knows, it is not Isaac’s choice, whether to be impacted by trauma, and it is not ours. Without blaming Isaac, or any of us, for those times when trauma causes debilitating consequences… through Isaac, the text does brings inspiration for how we might grow in the wake of adversity.

As Isaac descends, the angels’ tears remain.  When the story of the Akeda/the binding of Isaac concludes, what happens next?  There is no word about Isaac. Where is he? Perhaps, initially, Isaac is wandering, just figuring out how to survive.  The unknown in the text honors us in our own wandering – Where are we?  Sometimes we just need to figure out how to survive. 

In this, I have such compassion for you all, for our congregation, and for our world.  We are all Isaac this year and any year, for no one escapes hardship.

Now, beyond the wandering, with angels’ tears still in his eyes, what are other layers of Isaac’s response to his experience?  And what is our response to our own? 

Following Isaac’s unknown whereabouts, consider his first step: Isaac travels out of his way.  Isaac visits a well – a well that is mentioned chapters ago — as the destination of Hagar.  Perhaps Hagar — the maidservant who was cast out of Abraham’s home, in her suffering – is still at this well. Imagine that Isaac visits, looking for Hagar, seeking to offer compassion to her* – understanding they are both members of Abraham’s household who suffered.  With the angels’ tears still in his eyes, Isaac responds with compassion.

With tears still in our eyes, what is our response to adversity?  Compassion.  It’s in the small moments: the warmth and technology-tips at the start of each Zoom.  It’s in the deeper moments: Amid this year’s heartbreaking losses were bright spots of compassion. When one recent widow—someone young to be a widow—learned of other congregants who this year lost spouses young, she reached out to make a connection. Granting permission to share with you, she said to me: “the shared support is comforting, and also gives me purpose; I can understand something in their lives, most others cannot.”  Like Isaac, she returned to a place of suffering – she returned with compassion.

I have faith in our renewed call to compassion.

We are all Isaac, this year and any year. Angels’ tears still in his eyes, when Isaac returns from Hagar’s well, consider his second response.  In what may be the quietest moment in the Torah, the text says: Isaac goes out meditating in the field, as evening draws near.  In his journey forward, he responds with reflection.  

And in our journey, we respond with reflection. As we all asked ourselves: how do we live this pandemic life?… we also asked ourselves: how do we live this life – period.  As we watched groceries, schools and our congregation forced to reinvent, in ways we could not have imagined, the impossible became possible. We began to ask ourselves, if the notion of what is possible, in our institutions has been expanded, what possibilities, in my own life path can I expand?  With intention, recalibration and prioritizing, we saw that our growth from a scary time, could somehow clear away the hindrances of fear or lack of imagination.  How blessed we are to be part of a synagogue, a home for such spiritual search.

I have faith in our renewed call to reflection.

We are all Isaac, this year and any year.

After his walk in the field, consider Isaac’s next response.  Isaac’s meditation is followed by the Torah’s greatest love scene.  Isaac’s family has arranged for Rebekah to come meet him.  While out meditating in the field, Isaac looks up and sees camels approaching.  Raising her eyes, Rebekah sees Isaac. She dismounts her camel –or perhaps falls off, as she falls in love — and says: “who is that man walking in the field toward us?”  Isaac and Rebekah become husband and wife.  Isaac loves her and thus finds comfort.

Love. Oh, those tiny outdoor COVID weddings, because as Jews we do what we can, to not delay joy.

Now, for those who were hoping to fall off a camel for someone this year… well, a shout-out to you, who were searching for romantic love during the pandemic—it was a tough time for dating.  This summer was predicted to be a hot summer for young singles who were finally vaccinated.  As it turns out, when singles would meet in a bar and they left together, according to data, they were likely to just, talk. The common experience of the pandemic left them unprepared for light flirting or casual relationships; they ended a night in deep conversation.

Depth of relationship, and even love, is a part of our response.  Beyond romantic love, friends, family, and the community have found new ways to opened their hearts and prioritize relationships: grandparents teaching preschool to grandchildren, long distance relatives zooming family reunions, teen-agers cooking dinner for their parents—or so I’ve heard! 

I have faith in our renewed call to love.

We are all Isaac.

After Isaac builds a family with his beloved Rebekah, consider how he continues to respond and to grow. Later in his life, Isaac digs anew the water wells, which had been dug in the days of his father.  When another tribe in the neighborhood, quarrels over 2 of the same wells, Isaac sees beyond his own family’s needs.  Isaac shares equity, and commits to other groups’ interests, as well as his own.  He resolves conflict, identifying a third undisputed well, and he establishes a peace treaty with Abimelech, king of the Philistines.  Relentlessly, Isaac takes responsibility for his own community, for the surrounding community, and for the future.

Amid our own trauma, this congregation has not averted our eyes, from the injustices of our city and our world.  Congregants have dedicated themselves to voter engagement, to our Breaking Bread on Broad food pantry, to anti-racism work.  As the injustices remain: from systemic racism, to gun violence, to homophobia, to voter suppression, to a gender gap leaving 1 million more women than men to leave their jobs this year, to the misogynistic assault on reproductive rights, to the anti-Semitism that, as with so many other times of fear in human history, has been emboldened… I have faith in our renewed call to responsibility.

How do we ensure that we keep shining light in our areas of growth, that we remain devoted to compassion, reflection, love, and responsibility? 

According to Jewish law, a sanctuary must have windows. The brokenness of the outside world cannot be ignored in our words of prayer.  And the values we share in the sanctuary must inspire us to shine our light into the world. Each ray of light, in Hebrew, Keren Or, inspires our growth.  Through those tears in our eyes, we see the rays of light and we become Keren Or, a ray of light.

Isaac cannot un-see the knife. Angels’ tears still in his eyes, he can only descend the mountain.  There’s no going back to the old normal, there’s only moving forward.  Now part of the way there, as we move forward together,

May we travel, out of our way, inspired by compassion,

May we reflect, that our lives be led with intention,

May we find great love, and express it in our actions,

May we dig deep, and keep our wells, and our eyes, open.

Finding growth, even with tears still in our eyes,

May we enter this new year so full of potential for goodness.

*Drawn from a teaching from Rabbi Shai Held.

Once upon a time, there was a poor Jewish baker named Yosef. Yosef lived in a small town; a three day trip to the big city of Prague. One night, after a long day at the bakery, Yosef came home and, exhausted, he collapsed into his bed and quickly fell asleep. He began to dream. He dreamt of a mysterious stranger who told him to look for a treasure in Prague, under the bridge which leads to the royal palace. And before Yosef could ask the mysterious stranger any questions about this treasure, he woke up. “What a strange dream,” Yosef thought; but there was bread to bake and Yosef soon forgot about the dream as we went about his day. The next night, once again tired from a long day, Yosef fell fast asleep and began to dream. And once more, the same mysterious stranger came to Yosef in his dream and told him to look for a treasure in Prague, under the bridge which leads to the royal palace. Once more, Yosef awoke and thought about his strange dream but gave it no further thought as he was very busy. As you might have guessed, once more, the next night, Yosef had the same dream, a third time. When he awoke the next morning, he knew this must have been a message from God and he decided to set out for Prague. 

After three long days, Yosef arrived in Prague and went straight to the bridge that the stranger had shown him in the dream. But when he got there, he found that the bridge was guarded day and night and that it would be impossible to dig for treasure without being spotted by the guards. Nevertheless, Yosef continued to wait by the bridge, hoping for his moment. 

Finally, the captain of the guard, who had been watching Yosef, kindly asked whether he was looking for something or perhaps waiting for somebody. Yosef told the captain all about his dream. The captain laughed, saying, “Silly man – I cannot believe you travelled three days to Prague all because of a dream. I once had a dream where a stranger told me to go to a small town and dig for treasure under the stove in the home of a Jew named Yosef. Can you imagine anything more ridiculous?! I’d never be so foolish to follow a dream like that!!” And he laughed again. Yosef then bowed and thanked the guard. He quickly gathered his belongings and traveled the three days home. When he arrived back home, he immediately began digging under the stove, and there he found buried treasure beyond his wildest dreams. 

The treasure was right there all along. 

We are searching for the same treasure. We are living in a stressful, uncertain, hybrid world. And with uncertainty comes a search for ‘answers.’ We look to articles shared by friends, ‘self-help’ books and blogs, and to the advice of Drs. Fauci and Walensky. Tonight, I want to propose that Judaism wisdom is a treasure that has been buried right under our stoves all along, that has a unique role in helping us deal with a time such as this.

But why Judaism? Plenty of secular philosophies offer belief systems that can provide meaning, joy, and connection in our lives. Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, z”l, answers this question with a metaphor – a library filled with books of different values and lifestyles. You can choose any. Then Sacks says, you come across a book with your family’s name on it. He writes:

“Intrigued, you open it and see many pages written by different hands in many languages. You start reading it, and gradually you begin to understand what it is. It is the story each generation of your spiritual ancestors has told for the sake of the next, so that everyone in this family can learn where they came from, what happened to them, what they lived for and why. As you turn the pages you reach the last, which carries no entry but a heading. It bears your name.”

Why Judaism? Because whether you were born into it or you converted or you are Jewish adjacent, you are a part of the story – this is our story to discover and write.

The traditional Torah reading for Rosh Hashanah morning tells the challenging account of Abraham casting out his concubine Hagar along with their son Ishmael. In the story, Ishmael and Hagar run out of water and fear that they are going to perish in the wilderness. Suddenly God hears the cries of Hagar and Ishmael and the text proclaims, “Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. She went and filled the skin with water, and let the boy drink.” (Genesis 21:19) The well was there the whole time; Hagar just couldn’t see it. When God opened her eyes, she recognized what was there all along, her ability to be an active agent in her own salvation. 

God opened her eyes, but it was Hagar who filled the skin with water. God sent him a dream, but it was Yosef who dug for the treasure. When we speak about prayer or ritual or Jewish learning, we call it a ‘spiritual practice’ because that is exactly what it requires, practice! In fact the Hebrew word for ‘prayer,’ avodah, is also translated as work. Engaging deeper with Judaism takes time and effort.  

My family has been baking challah for the past 18 months every single Friday. What started as a necessity when we couldn’t buy challah during the first weeks of the pandemic, turned into a rewarding spiritual practice for our family. Some weeks, we have all the time in the world and baking is a relaxing family activity. Some weeks, we’re busy and rushing around, and frankly, it’s a pain in the tuches! Nevertheless, we do it each week. 

We bake challah because it brings our family together around an ancient tradition that connects us not only with each other but also with our ancestors and the global Jewish community at a time when we have felt isolated.

The spiritual practice of ‘taking challah,” a commandment from the Torah to remove an olive sized piece of the dough to be burned up, is traditionally a time to offer prayers of healing for loved ones in need. Each week as we prepare the dough we take time to think of others, friends and family that are unwell and we pray for their healing.

Challah on Shabbat is special. It is a way of practicing hiddur mitzvah/beautifying the commandment. As we continue to spend time at home, Shabbat can be a break from the mundanity. When we say the kiddush on Friday night we mark Shabbat as a time set apart from the rest of the week. The root of the word kiddush, kadosh/holy means set apart and unique. Baking challah is one way we make Shabbat special.

At a time when many are experiencing loneliness, uncertainty, and fatigue, Shabbat offers the antidote of community, mindfulness, and rest. This is the essence of Shabbat. As Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel writes in his book, “The Sabbath,” “There is a realm of time where the goal is not to have but to be, not to own but to give, not to control but to share, not to subdue but to be in accord.” 

Whether joining online or in person, Friday evening Kabbalat Shabbat services offer a chance to reconnect with friends and a chance to center ourselves. The service traditionally begins with six psalms to represent the six days leading up to Shabbat. Six psalms to work through the stresses of the week, to decide what we want to take with us and what we want to leave behind. As we sing Psalm 95, maybe we are thinking about that fight we had with our friend last Sunday; we know we really need to apologize. And as we sing Psalm 96, we think of that comment a coworker made about our appearance on Monday; we decide to just let it go. 

Shabbat is a treasure that has been here all along. It has been around since creation. 

There is a midrash/a rabbinic story (Pirkei Avot 5:6), that says God created ten miraculous things at twilight on the sixth day of creation, right before Shabbat, including the ram that Abraham sacrificed in place of Isaac during the Akedah.

Tomorrow morning, we will read the Akedah from the Torah scroll. We will hear about Abraham binding his son to the altar at God’s request, and almost sacrificing him before being stopped by an angel of God. After Abraham is told that this was just a test and he is not to sacrifice his son, the Torah continues, “When Abraham looked up, his eye fell upon a ram, caught in the thicket by its horns. So Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering in place of his son.”

The ram was there all along. It has been here since creation. Abraham needed help seeing it so he could sacrifice it in place of Isaac. The well of water was there all along, Hagar needed help seeing it so she could save herself and Ismael. The treasure was there all along, Yosef needed the help finding it so he could dig it up. Judaism has been here all along, we need to live it so we can find answers in this difficult world.

Tomorrow, we blow the shofar, the ram’s horn – the very horn from the very ram that God created at twilight on the sixth day. The shofar blast is a reminder that the treasure has been here all along, we just have to look for it.

The next ten days, the yamim noraim/days of awe are a time to reflect, to do heshbon hanefesh/an accounting of our souls. It is not just a time to apologize to those we hurt this year, it is also a time to make a commitment to ourselves to be different, to be more mindful, more authentic, more whole, this coming year. On Yom Kippur we will read the words of Parashat Nitzavim:

“Surely, this Instruction which I enjoin upon you this day is not too baffling for you, nor is it beyond reach. It is not in the heavens that you should say, “Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?” Neither is it beyond the sea… No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it.” (Deuteronomy 30:11-14)

The treasure has been here all along. Judaism has been here all along. During difficult times and beyond into better times, our tradition has been here and always will be here for us, so long as we choose to engage with it.

This New Year, for our sake and for the sake of our world, may we find the answers we seek in our sacred tradition, may we find our treasure that has been here all along.

• Masks – For now, in this early regathering stage, we require congregants to mask indoors. Together, we are determining the best path towards including those who cannot become fully vaccinated, including young children for whom we model masking indoors. Each clergy member will unmask for portions of the service that clergy member leads.

• Virtual Multi-Access – Now that we will no longer access services all in the same way, the best technological solutions for us have changed. The new livestream will offer a comments feature and will not include the video of worshipers participating virtually.

• Closed Captioning – To enable closed captioning, select the “CC” icon in the ribbon on the bottom of your video player.

• Vaccination – Our congregation expects all who attend in-person to be vaccinated. In keeping with the Jewish mandate that “All the community is responsible for each other,” Jewish values obligate us to vaccinate unless health condition or age makes that impossible. Together, we protect ourselves and we protect each other, and we especially protect those whose age or health condition preludes vaccination. For further teaching on Jewish values about vaccination, go here. 

• Social Distancing – Although the science clearly guides the society and our community to reopen our in-person living, there is an emotional adjustment for some and there are special health concerns for others. Please ensure that physical contact and proximity to people are mutually welcomed by asking consent. Before sitting next to someone, ask “May I sit here or would you prefer to spread out?”

• Oneg – Weather permitting, we will hold Oneg Shabbat/Kiddush in the Forman Family Courtyard outdoors, unmasked, so we can enjoy some challah together!

• Prayerbook – Looking to follow virtually with the prayerbook? A digital prayerbook can be accessed here, free of charge. A hard copy prayerbook can be purchased here. On both, pages numbers will align with those announced in the sanctuary.

How We Gather: In-Person and Virtual Jewish Life at Congregation Rodeph Shalom

Moving Forward

On behalf of Rabbi Eli Freedman, Jennifer James our Director of Youth Learning, and Jeff Katz our executive director, with whom in collaboration I shared these plans at our Annual Meeting, I feel uplifted with a sense of possibility as I share with you our thinking about how we are preparing to gather this summer and fall.

With immense gratitude to the partnership of our Board of Directors and to its How We Gather/Reopening Task Force, led so thoughtfully by our visionary chairperson Chip Ellis, I share our plans that are rooted in principles of Jewish values and safety, that are sensitive to congregants, clergy and staff, and that are driven by Rodeph Shalom’s vision: Immersed in Jewish time, guided by enduring values, compelled to moral action, we create profound connections. 

One Community ~ Multiple Access Options

We are shaping Jewish life at Rodeph Shalom as one community with multiple access options.  There is no going back.  Eager to offer in-person ways to gather, it is clear the virtual options will remain as well.  The aim is not to create two communities or two schedules of activities, rather, we will shape experiences that can be accessed in more than one way.  Whether experiencing a program in-person or on screen, participants will know we are all a part of something greater than ourselves. 

We can finally say we are planning with optimism for potential full in-person capacity, with contingency plans for set-backs, and the understanding that everything is subject to change. Based on science and local thresholds of virus spread rate, vaccination access, and vaccination coverage, we are incrementally and with experimentation adding in-person and hybrid experiences. 

Vaccination Expectation for All Who Are Able

According to Jewish values, we are obligated to our Jewish community to vaccinate if we are able. Tradition teaches “Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh / the whole Jewish community is responsible for each other.”  Now that vaccination is universally accessible to most age groups, Congregation Rodeph Shalom expects all congregants to vaccinate unless a health condition precludes it or unless one’s age group is not yet served by the vaccine (and we are excited for promising recent news for our youngest school-aged children!).  All of us who are physically able need to protect ourselves, protect each other, and especially protect those most vulnerable to the dangers of Covid-19.

Shabbat ~ July in the Sanctuary

I am overjoyed to say we plan to return to the sanctuary for Friday evening Shabbat services at the start of July!  In-person worship requires we monitor the data not only regarding virus spread and vaccine coverage but also regarding singing as a virus spreader. We are incrementally introducing more opportunities as we experiment. Weather-permitting we plan to offer more outdoor driveway mishkan service components on June 11 and June 25.  Assuming data continues to progress so positively, we plan to return to the sanctuary for Friday evening Shabbat services at the start of July.    

I feel so uplifted to picture us together in the sanctuary! With new infrastructure now in place to provide the virtual experience as well, please understand, the experience will be an adjustment for us all. When all worshippers accessed services in the same way, such as on Zoom, it provided an intimacy around the common experiences. The Zoom would not provide a superior sanctuary experience and would not leverage the intimacy of the single-accessed experience we have enjoyed this past year.  We are preparing, both technologically and emotionally, to move to an experience that was designed primarily for the virtual viewer to an experience designed for both in-person and virtual; once again, adaptability will serve us well as we adjust to a new livestream platform.

For the Shabbat services you would like to experience virtually, we will no longer create an abbreviated prayerbook designed for Zoom.  Instead, we will call page numbers.  If you would like to participate on a second device or a second screen, please use this no-cost digital flipbook:

https://www.ccarnet.org/publications/resources-repaginated/# or purchase a hard-copy prayerbook:

https://www.ccarpress.org/shopping_product_detail.asp?pid=50201 .            

High Holy Days

I am thrilled to share that we are planning High Holy Day services, both in-person and virtual for each service. For the case of set-backs with virus spread or vaccination coverage that could require capacity limitations, we have prepared contingency plans and we will likely offer an additional Kol Nidre Classical service; please continue to read all communications this summer in case we need to update you with modified schedules and plans.

B’nai Mitzvah

This past year’s B’nai Mitzvah students brought light and Torah to a dark time and taught us all the true meaning of B’nai Mitzvah!  Our B’nai Mitzvah services this spring remain primarily on Zoom but now with open seating capacity.  By the time of the fall B’nai Mitzvah, we expect the primary service to take place in the sanctuary with open capacity and full clergy on the bimah.  Families can even begin to book reception space once again for celebrations!

Berkman Mercaz Limud ~ Planning for In-Person Class

From Jennifer James’ extraordinary transformation to a zoom school to Micah Marder’s song- and service- leading to the teachers’ devotion, the parents’ commitment, and students’ enthusiasm, this has been an incredible year of learning, soul-growth, and community-building. We plan to be able to offer in-person Berkman Mercaz Limud in the fall, and have contingency plans in case there are capacity limitations at the start of the year.  Our focus remains: connection, continuity, and content and the design of our return prioritizes teaching quality, teaching time, community-building, and flexibility.

Connection Groups, Adult Gatherings

Connection Groups, Small Groups, Torah Study, Caring Community and meetings will begin slowly to introduce in-person gathering often with virtual components.  These smaller and medium sized gatherings are perfect places to experiment with approaches to hybrid, to serving food, and to cooking food.  For the hybrid virtual components, we are developing capabilities for two-way interaction in some of our spaces.

Staff Return

Our professional team members have provided immense support to each other all year, helping one another to combat isolation! We have begun a return journey staggering our transition to on site on a regular basis, working towards full staff (although some accommodations) present full time in mid-June.

Cantor Transition

Our interim Cantor, Rita Glassman, has nourished our souls all year, without even meeting us in-person!  We will have the opportunity to express our gratitude at the Shabbat service Friday, June 18.

Our permanent Cantor, Brad Hyman, will begin in July and has already started to plan with the clergy and become a part of the team. Please help us welcome him at his first service – which we expect to be our first service in the sanctuary – July 2!

My Partners

Hank Bernstein has experienced a first year of presidency like no other.  I am inspired by his clarity of thought, his perspective, his incredibly hard work, his devotion, and his Torah, and I am deeply grateful for his partnership.  I am grateful to have walked through this with a senior team and a professional staff by my side who finds that challenge drives them to creativity, energy and purpose. And I am thankful for the teaching and support of our rabbis emeriti. I pray that I thank them all enough; please join me in expressing gratitude to them.

I am profoundly grateful for the connections and support this congregation has maintained throughout this pandemic.  You have deepened my faith! 

Please be in touch to express what is most important to you in our regathering designs: clergyoffice@rodephshalom.org.

See you soon!

Good evening and thank you for joining us for the 2021 Annual Meeting of Congregants.  Our agenda for this evening is to review this past year, to look forward to our next year, to elect new members of the Board of Directors and to acknowledge the extraordinary work of volunteers.

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Who could have envisioned this past year?  We all have been challenged physically, mentally and emotionally! 

I could never have foreseen this first year of my term, but my “port in the storm” during this pandemic has been Rodeph Shalom.  RS has buoyed me with the words of Jewish wisdom in the weekly RS emails, lifted me spiritually in the weekly Zoom Shabbat services, and challenged me intellectually on Saturday mornings in Torah Study.  In those and all of the many RS activities during a typical week, Rodeph Shalom has provided important grounding and focus for me and has served as a “ray of light” in the darkness of the past year for which I am very grateful.

There are many congregants to whom we need to express appreciation tonight including our Board of Directors, the Board of Advisors, members who serve on committees and task forces, and all who participate in our worship, social justice, learning and other activities. 

Our special appreciation for their outstanding performance during this pandemic needs to be expressed to the amazing RS staff—our staff has demonstrated incredible resiliency, initiative, flexibility and commitment over this past year and we are extremely grateful to them all! 

And to our extraordinary clergy—Rabbi Maderer, Rabbi Freedman and Cantor Glassman—even though we gathered virtually, you have made sure that we continue to feel connected to our beloved Rodeph Shalom and to our Jewishness, and have nurtured that connection and our spirituality with your prayer leadership, insightful D’vrei Torah and beautiful music.  Cantor Glassman has continued to provide new and traditional music and her professional expertise to our weekly Shabbat services, B’nai mitzvah training, Torah study and all activities.   A special thank you to Cantor Glassman, will take place at our June 18^th Shabbat service.

I want to spend a brief amount of time sharing with you the challenges and successes that RS has seen in the past year—

Early in the pandemic the Board of Directors established three Task Forces to work with Clergy and staff—the Benchmarking Reopening Task Force, the Disruption Task Force and the High Holy Day Task Force.  These groups helped to provide the pathways for our Congregation to continue to thrive during the pandemic and their work continues to guide us as we seek opportunities to gather in person and virtually for all activities in the future.

One of the questions I receive most often from congregants is, “How is the Congregation doing financially?”

In April and May of last year, Management, in consultation with the Finance Committee, crafted three different FY 21 budget scenarios for Board review.  The Board of Directors ultimately approved a very conservative FY21 Budget that included a deficit of $191,000.

I’m happy to report that due to the generosity of our congregants, the prudent management of our expenses, and with monies from the federal Payroll Protection Plan, we will end this fiscal year at better than a break-even point.

RS has received a second tranche of federal Payroll Protection Plan funds for the new fiscal year, and the Board approved a breakeven budget including the $354k from the PPP.    We hope that we can rely once again on congregants for their support of membership and other annual fundraising during this coming year.  However, we need to continue to do better than breaking even with the assistance of federal funds.

You may remember that on Yom Kippur last year I spoke about the financial sustainability of RS for the future and each congregant’s responsibility in ensuring the future of our sacred community.    I spoke of the incredible assets of RS—world-class clergy, beautiful facilities, our awe-inspiring sanctuary; but I also spoke of the financial needs and responsibilities that still remain.  I spoke of our congregation’s need to work on the “four-legged stool” of financial sustainability— (1) increasing membership and membership revenues (in the FY22 budget, membership revenues cover only 56% of expenses), (2) the need for additional endowment, (3) continued monetization of our facility and (4) increasing contributions to our temporarily restricted special purpose funds.  

We need to work on all four legs of the stool, and work has begun even in this difficult past year. 

• While membership has not decreased to the extent that we have seen at other area congregations, we need to work to increase our membership numbers and membership revenues. The Membership Committee has been working diligently during the year and will make recommendations in the near future to the Strategic Planning Committee, whose new plan of priorities for the Congregation is anticipated by the end of the calendar year. 
• And while the positive performance of the stock market has lifted our Endowment and other funds, we need to continue to grow Endowment principal to provide more funds for operations. I’m pleased to report that we have restarted the Quiet Phase of our endowment campaign after an 8-month hiatus, and to date have raised over $4 million.  Another piece of great news in that Susan Klehr has graciously agreed to be the Chair of the Campaign.
• As our city continues to open up, we hope that the ability to rent out our facilities to outside groups will grow in the coming year to provide a steady and significant stream of revenue.

We continue to have a structural deficit—that is, our operating revenues do not cover our expenses.  We have been fortunate in these past few years to have been able to rely on other accumulated funds from the past to cover expenses or government funds, but we need to correct this systemic issue by continuing to move forward on all four legs of our financial sustainability stool. 

Our HHD services last year were a real production in every sense of the word and the services were incredibly spiritual and moving!  As you know our virtual services were open to everyone and for the first time we used virtual t’filah. 

Our fund-raising effort in late fall and winter was successful in meeting its budget with a program the included 3 sessions on cooking Jewishly.  Thanks to the generosity of patrons, congregants and the sponsorship of the Joseph W Rosenbluth Fund we met our goal.

Caring Community continued to be active during the last year with the following activities:

• In addition to the calls that are normally made to congregants each Passover, telephone calls were made on an ongoing basis by Caring Community to connect with and check in with congregants. Thanks to the many members who helped connect to our congregants.
• RS offered support specifically to those struggling with addiction and mental health with our recent panel conversation with Michael Solomonov, which chipped away at stigma.
• Fran Martin has led a regular Congregational Check-in, which has been important for so many experiencing isolation during this time.
• In addition to the ongoing work of our Connection Groups, a small group pilot program was established with around 10 people to meet once a month over a sustained period of time to provide a place to belong, speak and share, and hopefully thicken relationships.

It was been an interesting year for RS’s Social Justice work.

• In previous years our Breaking Bread on Broad activity had provided breakfast, learning and other fun activities for students from our neighborhood, in the RS facility during the summer months. Because of COVID, the in-facility component of the program was not possible last summer, but the distribution of food was still held at the Green Street entrance.  What was previously just a summer program has now expanded to a year-round program offering food, health products and other necessities weekly to students and over 130 immigrant families in need.   Thanks to Ellen Poster, Dan Seltzer and many other volunteers, a few of whom we will honor later in our program.   
• In previous years our Congregation established an Anti-Racism Work Group, which has continued to meet during this year to do the sustained work on anti-racism in ourselves, our community and our world. The efforts of this group also helped inform the Board of Directors who approved a resolution supporting the principle of the Black Lives Matter civil rights movement.  The group and the Board were guided by Jewish values and by the Jewish wisdom of the Torah and Talmud.  The BLM resolution now lives on the RS web site.
• Our Equity, Inclusion Diversity Task Force, called “EID”—Hebrew for “witness,” is currently working on an audit of all we do as a congregation, in order to ensure that different groups, especially those vulnerable to feeling on the margins, feel a sense of belonging at RS.

Our Education programs have continued for this past year:

• The Buerger Early Learning Center reopened in September 2020 and has been steadily increasing its number of children.
• Jennifer James and her team have provided a virtual Berkman Mercaz Limud program to continue to engage and educate our children; the virtual BML has been an outstanding offering and a highlight for these families, whose attendance has been excellent.
• Torah Study is a mainstay of Adult Education and its virtual presence has attracted new faces including existing and new congregants and non-congregants to its weekly Saturday morning group; and
• Days of Learning, a lay leadership-led program, offered excellent educational opportunities during two different periods of the year.

I want to take an opportunity to thank the members of the Board of Directors—the fifteen directors have operated as a very efficient and effective body, with each member adding their expertise and voice on the issues at hand.  It has been my pleasure and honor to serve as your facilitator.

In conclusion, it is my hope and expectation that this coming year will feel different to all of us, that we will begin gathering in person and continue to make and reinforce those profound connections with one another!

Thank you!