Rosh Hashanah Sermon 5780
by Rabbi Adam Roffman
In Bend, Oregon—about three hours south of Portland—tucked away in a strip mall shop between Papa Murphy’s pizza and a Chevron gas station, you’ll find a vestige of a bygone era.
Walk in and you’ll see 1,000 square feet or so of aisles crowded, not with people, but shelves and shelves of rectangular boxes organized alphabetically by category. And should one of these boxes catch your eye, if you’re lucky, you’ll find another identical in size right behind it, marked with an iconic logo in blue and yellow.
For $3.99, the contents of that box could be yours for an evening, if you flash your membership card at the counter. Just don’t forget to bring it back by 7 pm the next evening.
For the 75,000 residents of Bend, I imagine that walking through the doors of what is now the last Blockbuster Video on earth is almost like stepping through a time machine. How quaint it must be to think of the world as it was in the 1990’s, back when commodities were physical, not digital. When face-to-face human interaction was required to deposit a check, or borrow a book, or file your taxes.
In its heyday, the business model at Blockbuster was based on a social contract my children will never fully understand. Because if, after 24 hours, that summer blockbuster was still sitting on your kitchen counter, or hidden out of sight in the belly of your VCR, that means that some little boy would go home that night disappointed, his plans for the evening scuttled, as he is forced to endure his parents’ copy of Singin’ in the Rain for the umpteenth time this month.
And remember those little stickers they affixed to the label of those tapes? “Be kind, rewind.” I’m pretty sure my older daughter has never even heard the word rewind and that it would probably take some sort of diagram to explain it to her.
I’m turning 40 this year. And though I usually get a good laugh from the folks around here whenever I say that I am starting to feel my age, these little reminders of the way things used to be two generations ago are a pretty significant marker of how far we’ve come since I was born, or, in some cases, how much we’ve lost in the meantime—just in the small details of the way we live.
“Be kind, rewind.”
If you think about it, what makes that expression so quaint is not the pithy rhyme, but the overall message. Is returning something in the same condition in which you received it really an act of kindness? It’s certainly the right thing to do, but that’s not the same thing as being the nice thing to do.
We lament, with good reason, the meanness, even the cruelty, in so much of our societal discourse. But there are times when I wonder if the genteel era we are missing was an illusion conjured up by the language of politeness and civility. Even before the chasms of ideology and technology created such distance between us, if we convinced ourselves that rewinding a tape, or returning a book on time, was a gesture of the heart rather than simply meeting the bare minimum of our obligations to each other, did we ever really understand what kindness was? Are we missing something that was never actually all that present in the first place?
If you look up the Hebrew word for kindness in the dictionary, you’ll find a number of unsatisfactory entries: nechmadut, better defined as niceness, or chavivut, which means dearness or fondness. Only the two-word phrase tuv lev, good-hearted, comes close—because kindness, in our tradition is not a simple concept. It is a compound idea, an action that results from a feeling. Kindness comes from the soul.
Perhaps that’s why Jews don’t really aspire to be kind, they challenge themselves to commit acts of loving-kindness—of chesed.
Chesed is not simply “kindness,” because kindness is a unidirectional act. In our secular lexicon, we do kindnesses for others. We volunteer, we offer, we give of ourselves. Sometimes we act out of love, but sometimes also out of sympathy, or pity, or even self-interest.
Gemilut chasadism, acts of lovingkindness, are mutual, as suggested by the Hebrew word gomel, which means to remunerate, to pay back. They are based on the assumption that kindness is relational. God extended His kindness to us by giving us life and the blessings that make it fulfilling and we, in turn, send that kindness back heavenward when we obey God’s commandments, particularly those that increase goodness in the world.
Of course, the concept of gemuilut chasidim also reflects an equal exchange between humans, as our sages so succinctly put it: mitzvah gorreret mitzvah. One good deed engenders another. Each time we are kind to another person, we perpetuate a sacred cycle of generosity that elevates us all, bringing us closer to the source of all chesed, back to God.
Believing in the power of chesed is an act of faith, one that assumes that these reciprocal actions can fundamentally change not just the way we live, but the world we live in.
I was reminded of how transformative a force kindness can be when I came across the story of Braysen Gabriel, a 4 year old boy with autism, who boarded a United Airlines flight from San Diego to Houston with his parents. Just before takeoff, he unbuckled his seat belt and insisted that he needed to lie down on the floor. Knowing that the crew would never allow the plane to takeoff unless he was seated, Breyson’s parents forced him, kicking and screaming, back into place.
When the flight attendants came over to the family to see what all the commotion was about, Breysen’s mom explained the situation, fearing perhaps that it wouldn’t be long before they were taxiing back to the gate and removed from the plane.
Instead, the flight crew huddled, come up with a plan and sprang into action. They allowed Breysen to sit on his dad’s lap during takeoff. Seeing that he was still out of control when the seat belt light indicator turned off, the crew led Greyson by the hand to a place on the floor of the plane, where they sat with him, hoping that the vibrations would calm him.
It wasn’t long before Breysen wandered off to first class, where he began kicking the back of a passenger’s chair repeatedly. Once the boy’s condition was explained to him, he replied, “He can kick my chair, I don’t care,” and began giving Breyson high fives.
Pretty soon, everyone in first class was asking his name, showing him pictures on their phones, and giving him free reign of the cabin.
Needless to say, Breyson’s parents were overwhelmed by the patience, care, and kindness these strangers had bestowed on their son, and on them.
As Breyson’s mom was headed down the aisle off of the plane after a long flight, another passenger, an off-duty flight attendant gave her a hug and handed her a note. “You and your family are loved and supported. Do not ever let anyone make you feel as though your son is an inconvenience or a burden. He is a blessing. God bless your patience, your love, your support and your strength. Continue to be a super woman.”
Mitzvah gorreret mitzvah. One act of kindness inspires another.
What inspires me about that story is that it so perfectly illustrates what it takes to build a community of chesed. These strangers, cooped up in a tiny capsule just a few feet wide and who certainly had reason to behave otherwise, became united, no pun intended, in a sacred purpose---not just to get this boy and his family through the ordeal of a difficult three-hour flight, but to ensure that they walked off that plane together not ashamed or angry, but feeling that even though they had landed safely on the ground that they were still 30,000 feet up in the air, uplifted by generosity, admiration, and yes, kindness.
And though listening to stories such as these can make us feel as if the answer to what is poisoning our discourse, our relationships, and at times, even our own hearts, these days is so simple—“be kind,” we would do well to remember the lesson our tradition teaches us. Kindness is not simple. Chesed can’t be defined in a word. And acts of chesed reflect a soul that has been cultivated and conditioned to respond in ways that often defy the culture we live in.
When you buy an airplane ticket, you aren’t just paying for the journey, you’re paying for the space you occupy along the way. And these days, when the pricing structure for airline seating is more complex than figuring out how to buy floor seats at a rock concert, folks can be pretty protective of the 3.7 square feet that their money or their frequent flier status has earned them. Go ahead, try putting both your right and your left elbow on the armrests next to you and see what happens. The more expensive and exclusive and small these spaces get, the harder we fight to keep every inch for ourselves.
And yet, the passengers on United Airlines 2210, somehow found the room on that cramped flight for Breyson, a boy who was breaking every single convention of personal space with every limb of his body.
In our tradition, no figure is more revered for his acts of chesed than Abraham. And in the litany of good deeds he committed throughout his 175 years of life, perhaps no act of kindness is more well-known than the hospitality he showed to three strangers, wandering in the desert in the midst of a long journey. Notwithstanding the physical agony he was enduring three days after he circumcised himself at God’s command, Abraham opened his tent wide, providing his guests food and shelter.
What makes his act of chesed, of hachnasat orchim, of welcoming guests, so instructive, is not that it was easy, or expected, or polite, it’s that it was hard, painful even. Abraham’s story is an important reminder that acts of kindness are not acts of convenience. They require us, in ways that are often quite literal, to push ourselves past the boundaries of our own comfort zones.
Indeed, some of the most impactful acts of chesed occur precisely at the moments where we are most uncomfortable. Welcoming new faces, feeding the hungry, consoling the recently bereaved—these moments where kindness is required, require us, to overcome our anxiety that so often stops us in our tracks.
Sefer Vayikra, the book of Leviticus famously teaches in the holiness code, which contains the most essential commandments for creating a sacred community: lo tachmod al dam re’echa. Do not stand idly by when the life of your friend is at stake.
It’s worth asking why it’s necessary for the Torah to command something that should be obvious to all of us. Did God believe us to be so unfeeling, and so uncaring, that we wouldn’t value the life of our fellow Jew whose life stands in the balance, right before our eyes?
Biblical commentators knew this could not be the case and so Rashi narrows the situation described in the verse—Do not stand idly by if you are able to rescue him; if for instance he is drowning in the river, or if a wild beast is attacking him. In other words, do not let your fear stop you from being kind.
Abraham had reason to be fearful of those strangers on the road. The passengers on Breyson’s Gabriel’s flight had cause to be anxious that his behavior would prove a nuisance at the least, or so far up in the air, dangerous, at worst.
And yet, when kindness took hold, row by row, cabin by cabin on flight 2210, fear transformed into joy and the air of anxiety was pierced by the sound of laughter. And, I believe, most importantly, judgement gave way to understanding.
Of all the rabbinic ethical dictums, dan l’chaf zechut, judging others favorably is, perhaps, the most challenging to carry out in today’s world. The Torah imagined a society where only the most learned and the most pious would be given what was once a divine prerogative--the power to judge. And yet, in our time, we are all judges. Because all that humans can possibly know, all the collective wisdom of the ages, can be accessed in a moment on a tiny screen we hold in our hands and store in our pockets. And when we feel we cannot judge, or are yet unable to, we can search an infinite trove of electronic writing until we find the opinion that seems most valid in our own eyes and we then allow the author to judge for us.
It would be naïve to assume that everyone we meet is deserving of kindness. There will be many sermons devoted to that particular topic this high holiday season, but if we are honest with ourselves, we’ll find that in too many of our encounters, our predisposition to judge precludes the activation of the chesed within us. If we are to follow in Abraham’s example, we have to find a way to let our guard down.
Of the more than 1000 hours I’ve been privileged to sit in a theatre watching a Broadway show, I have never been so moved, so delightfully undone, than I was last summer when Shira and I went to see the new musical, The Band’s Visit (which by the way, is coming to the Winspear this winter, and I encourage all of you to go). The show, which is based on an Israeli film, begins at Ben-Gurion Airport outside Tel Aviv, as an Egyptian band, invited to play at the opening of an Arab Cultural Center in Petach Tivkah, stands awkwardly in a line in their powder blue uniforms. But as they make their way, they mistakenly end up stranded for the night in the fictional desert town of Beit Hatikvah until a bus can come for them in the morning.
The plot is put in motion by an unexpected act of kindness, as only a sabra can offer it. The otherwise prickly proprietress of the one café in town, invites the members of the band to spend the night in the apartments of her fellow employees. What follows is an evening of surprise and connection, as they bond over music and tales of unrequited love and longing.
The musical is set in 1996. More than 20 years later, Israel and Egypt, America and the Middle East are very different places. It is hard to know when or if we will ever recover the time when we could think to ourselves—“Be kind, rewind, reset, renew.” That the secret to dissolving what lies between us could be just as simple as an act of welcoming a stranger for a night.
But in the end, this very Jewish musical is not really about easy solutions. At its conclusion, morning comes. The uneasy and fleeting bond shared by the residents of Beit Hatikvah and the members of the Alexandria Ceremonial Police orchestra is broken by the harsh desert sunlight, in which they discover that despite what brought them together in the shadow of night, by day they are Arabs and Jews, Egyptians and Israelis.
A year after seeing it, I confess that despite listening to the cast recording more than a few dozen times, it’s difficult for me to get through it without shedding some wistful tears. And though there were so many elements of the musical that came together to make it hit home for me, what truly caught me so off guard, was the gemilut chasadim, the completely unexpected acts of kindness and compassion that these beautifully drawn characters paid back to each other for 90 minutes.
For a time, after the show was over, I just sat there weeping, lamenting the loss of a time I could barely remember, until finally, the emotion subsided, my mind cleared and something that had been eluding me, that is eluding too many of us, I believe, came into focus.
It is unreasonable and unrealistic to simply expect a world of kindness. Because kindness is not instinctual. Kindness, like hatred, must be taught. It must be cultivated, nurtured, and practiced. And most importantly, it must be chosen. To learn to be kind is to learn how to overcome your fears, your boundaries, and your judgments and allow for the transformative possibilities of soul encountering soul.
In today’s world we hear so much about the changes, even the upheaval, in some cases, that is necessary to restore and renew our values—to protect liberty, and establish justice, to end corruption and to counter cruelty.
We have spoken about political revolutions, about building movements to retake and reclaim what is ours or what should be. But what I do not hear from any side of the debate these days is that what is needed is not a revolution of policies and politicians, but a revolution of kindness.
Because it has become crystal clear to me that in the climate in which we live now, kindness is a revolutionary act.
In the story of Abraham’s life there is a pivotal moment, that is often overlooked. To save his nephew Lot, Abraham intervenes in a war—a war of five kings against four others. When, thanks to Abraham, the four kings claim victory, saving Lot and his family, Abraham is taken to meet them so that he can be rewarded. One of the four kings is the wealthy and powerful ruler of the city of Sodom, a sinful place ultimately, destroyed by God, for being, among other things, inhospitable.
Riding in on his horse, the King of Sodom offers Abraham an enticing bargain. “Take all the spoils of war, all of the cattle, all of the precious gold and silver. But those you have captured, give them to me.”
Knowing that Sodom was a place without chesed, Abraham refuses. “I swear to the Lord, God Most High, Creator of heaven and earth: I will not take so much as a thread or sandal strap of what is yours; for none shall say it is the King of Sodom who has made Abraham rich.”
In that moment, Abraham faced a critical choice. He could accept the way of the world as it was, a world where indifference to cruelty gave men access to power and wealth.
Or, he could revolt. He could resist. He could stare into the eyes of a man who dared to judge the fate of multitudes in an instant, who stood idly by as his people shut out the vulnerable and the needy, who built a city with cynicism and fear in his heart, and say to him, “For me and my descendants, I will build the world anew. I will remake this land in the image of the One who charged me to fill it with tzedek and mishpat, justice and righteousness. And as the psalmist wrote, olam chesed yibaneh, I will build that world with acts of lovingkindness.
It will not be easy, it will not happen all at once. And it will require each of us to harness the power of teshuva, of refining the soul, and returning it to its purest form.
To create a world where one act of kindness inspires another, and another, and another, until this small crowded space we all inhabit is filled with the music of love and joy and connection, we will have to begin again. It starts today.
hONORING sHEARITH'S hOLOCAUST sURVIVORS AND THE dALLAS Holocaust and Human Rights Museum Board Members and DocentsRead Now
We honor Shearith Israel members who were on the Kindertransport or are survivors of the Holocaust. Their journey and their lives are a testament to the resiliency of the Jewish people.
We also honor the members of our congregation who graciously volunteer their time at the Dallas Holocaust and Human Rights Museum as Board Members and Docents. As we celebrate the grand re-opening of the museum, we express our gratitude for the many hours of love and hard work these volunteers dedicate to our community.
By Rabbi Shira Wallach
For our third year, Avi Mitzner and I will co-lead ReNew, an alternative approach to the Rosh Hashanah liturgy. It is a soulful, joyful, musical experience with a shortened liturgy, lots of singing, and room for reflection. We sit in the round so that we all feel responsible for the space. I create a new Mahzor supplement each year that augments the text in the Mahzor Lev Shalem.
This year, we will organize our service into three main sections.
First: the opening. How do we enter the prayer space? What music and words help us feel like we can approach God? How do we feel empowered to lift our voices in song? How do we reclaim and deepen our relationship with God and with one another?
Second: the Amidah. This year, we will only do one Amidah, combining elements from both Shacharit and Musaf. Now that we’ve established our relationship with God, what do we say in our private audience? What is in our hearts that is most important to share with God? What regrets do we have from the past year, what hopes do we have for the future? How do the special prayers for Rosh Hashanah speak to us, and how can we speak through them?
Third: the Torah and Shofar. Rosh Hashanah forces us to grapple with one of the most challenging stories of our tradition, the Binding of Isaac. How do we continue to find meaning and relevance in this tale? Why do we read it on Rosh Hashanah? What is its connection to the Shofar, and how do we discern the Shofar’s message for us?
After we put the Torah away, we will conclude our service with Ein Keloheinu, Aleinu, Mourners’ Kaddish, and Adon Olam.
We have charted out each and every moment of the service for maximum beauty and impact, which is why I insist that you try to come on time and stay through until the end. The service is only 10am until 12:30pm, and you’ll get much more out of it if you can experience the entire arc.
Avi and I look forward to celebrating the New Year with you! If you have any questions about ReNew, please send me an email at email@example.com.
Rabbi Shira Wallach
By Rabbi Ari Sunshine
This past Wednesday up at the North Texas Food Bank in Plano, more than 1000 volunteers from all over the area, including a number of folks from our congregation, came to pack up 279,280 meals for those in need as part of the Communities Foundation of Texas’ 18th Annual Freedom Day. This year was the first year that our local Freedom Day was linked into the federally-recognized September 11 National Day of Service and Remembrance and the associated efforts spearheaded by friends Jay Winuk and David Paine and the 501c3 they founded, 9/11 Day. The Dallas Meal Pack was one of eight major hunger-related service projects 9/11 Day organized around the nation this year, including New York, Chicago, St. Louis, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Phoenix, and Atlanta. It was also one of many volunteer service projects that Communities Foundation of Texas organized in the DFW area in observance of the CFT-created “Freedom Day.” Nationally, close to 12,000 volunteers participated in 9/11 Day Meal Pack projects with the goal of packing over 3,000,000 meals for people in need.
I was privileged to be invited to share a blessing with the hundreds of assembled volunteers at NTFB before the 12-noon packing shift began. But I was also privileged to share the stage with David Paine, who came in to support our efforts and then was on his way to hop a flight to Phoenix to visit their project as well; with Ruben Martinez, the sixth-grader from El Paso who created the viral #ElPasoChallenge, who has appeared on Good Morning America, CNN and other media to help spread the word and is asking Americans to do 22 good deeds for each of the 22 people killed in the El Paso shooting; and with my colleague Imam Azhar Subedar from the Islamic Association of Collin County, a real mensch and a huge advocate for interfaith collaboration. I was inspired by their presence and the presence of the hundreds of volunteers in the room. As a woman from our ceremony team sang “America, the Beautiful”, I looked around the room and saw people of all different faiths and colors and backgrounds gathered together for this sacred purpose of serving others and honoring the memory of lives tragically cut short and I was moved to tears. This truly was America, the Beautiful.
It’s perhaps not a coincidence that today’s parasha, today’s Torah reading, Ki Tetze, ends with three powerful verses about memory. We read these verses today and also on the Shabbat prior to the holiday of Purim every year, known as Shabbat Zachor, the Sabbath of Memory. These verses instruct us to “Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey, after you left Egypt – how, undeterred by fear of God, he surprised you on the march, when you were famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers in your rear. Therefore, when the Lord your God grants you safety from all your enemies around you, in the land that the Lord your God is giving you as a hereditary portion, you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under the heavens. Do not forget!”
Rather emphatically, the Torah calls on us to remember this arch-enemy of the Jewish people throughout our generations. The evil Haman on Purim is descended from Amalek and whenever his name is mentioned in the Megillah reading we blot it out with the sound of the graggers in fulfillment of the verse. Jews are known for our long-term memory, not only of the attacks and persecutions of our enemies, but also of the gracious acts of God on our behalf. And when God asks us to remember, there is an expectation on God’s part that we will take appropriate action as well in response to our remembrance.
When it comes to the events of 9/11, for many of us, these memories are still very painful and traumatic and difficult. Some of us may have lost loved ones, or known victims or their families, or had friends who narrowly escaped being among those individuals. Others have the indelible images of the attacks in our memory banks from the repeated showings on television and elsewhere. But we are now at the point, 18 years later, where close to a generation of people in our country either weren’t alive when this devastation occurred or were only toddlers and thus have no conscious memory of the attacks or the aftermath. I was at Yavneh Academy’s High School Back-to-School Night on Wednesday evening, and when I met my son Jonah’s Hebrew teacher, he told the assembled parents that for class that morning he had not focused on Hebrew, but instead showed the students some clips of video and audio footage from 9/11, including calls from the doomed planes and other similarly emotional testimony of the tragedy. For most of the kids it was the first time they had seen or heard these clips, which is why the teacher felt it was important to take class time out to show them.
This is an important reminder that memory quickly becomes history. Some among us are still survivors of the Holocaust, or children or grandchildren of survivors, and some may still remember U.S. national traumas like the bombing of Pearl Harbor, but none of us remembers firsthand the blowing up of the Maine in Havana Harbor near the end of the 19th century, or the defeat of the defenders at the Alamo in the 1830s. But we still as a nation recall these events and others. The cries of “Remember the Alamo” or “Remember the Maine” or “Remember Pearl Harbor” still reverberate in our collective memory as a nation, just as “Never Forget” reverberates in the shadow of the Holocaust almost 75 years later.
It is important that we remember the pain and the sorrow, the trauma and the shock and that we express our feelings each year. However, it is also important to remember as well the response of our nation, the heroes, police, firefighters, military service members, doctors, nurses, health care providers, and others who tried to and in some cases succeeded in saving lives, who ministered to the injured and the bereaved, and those who attempted to bring comfort to all who were impacted by these traumatic attacks. I’ll never forget what I experienced at NY Penn Station the Friday after 9/11 when I was heading down from the Jewish Theological Seminary to my student pulpit at Beth El in Baltimore, MD. I saw people all around me and throughout the station begin to rise and applaud and was not sure why they were doing so, until I saw several firefighters in dirty uniforms emerge at the top of an escalator. An entire train station worth of people gave these four firefighters a prolonged standing ovation, which I must say was an incredibly powerful moment. Just a few short years later, would that still have happened? Or more generally, do we express our continued appreciation to our first responders for all they do and what they risk every day to help us and keep us safe?
It is important as well to remember how we came together as a nation and how we, for a moment at least, were united as one great family and were embraced by countless strangers around the world who felt our pain and offered their support. No doubt there are real and troubling questions as to what is left of that communal and national unity that was felt 18 years ago, but when I stood on the stage at NTFB on Wednesday I felt an incredible rush of pride in our country and in what we can be and what we can do when we set our minds to it. 18, “Chai”, years after 9/11, we must still treasure the gift and sanctity of life and challenge ourselves regularly to use that gift to leave a lasting impact on the world around us.
As I bring these remarks to a close, I’d like to share with you now the brief one-minute blessing I shared with the assembled crowd at NTFB on Wednesday, inspired by a prayer written by my colleague Rabbi Naomi Levy. And then I’ll ask you all to rise and join me in reading A Prayer for Our Country together on p.177 in our Siddur, followed by the singing of America, the Beautiful, on p. 453.
There’s a phrase in the Haggadah, the book from which we tell the story of the Exodus at the Passover Seder:
מאבל ליום טוב, ומאפלה לאור גדול
“From mourning to a day of goodness, from thick darkness to a great light”.
We remember the victims of the tragedy on 9/11. We remember those who stood up on 9/11 and gave their lives so that others might live. When all seemed lost, when the world seemed like a dark and heartless place, they restored our faith in people and our trust in God. They taught us hope, and fearlessness, and honor.
We will never forget their heroism and their sacrifice. We will teach our children and grandchildren about their courage in the face of danger. We will try with all our might to live up to the example they have set.
We will not ignore human suffering, we will not be indifferent to the cries of those who are hungry, or in need, or in pain; we have been changed forever by that fateful day of 9/11. May we who have gathered here today continue to honor the memory of those who perished and move from that day of deep and profound darkness to a day, THIS day, of profound goodness, blessing, and light. AMEN.
By Mandy Golman
When I saw the notice that the Shabbat Hour service led by Rabbis Wallach and Roffman was resuming this past week, I was elated. This service is just one hour long on Saturday mornings in Fonberg Family Chapel. Rabbi Roffman and Rabbi Wallach lead us through a series of “spiritual moments,” the same ones that happen in a traditional service, but in a much more focused and intentional way.
I grew up in a Reform temple and attended Jewish camp and, truthfully, Jewish camping is where my Jewish connection was established and has really been the link to my spirituality for me. Over the years, I’ve often struggled to find that same connection when I’ve attended services. All that changed when I attended the Shabbat Hour. Being welcomed by Rabbi Wallach on the guitar and Rabbi Roffman on the piano to a melodic Halleluyah was just beautiful. I felt transformed back to my camp days. The service is very informal and participatory. The Rabbis add meaningful and relevant reflections and guidance as we go through the service and songs. Believe it or not, I find myself wishing it would continue when we come to a close. I now mark these services on my calendar and make it a priority to attend.
If you would have told me 26 years ago that I would find this spiritual connection at Shearith Israel I would have never believed it, but after this one hour service I leave feeling grounded and renewed and ready for the week ahead. This service will resume after the high holidays. While I know it will not be for everyone (and that’s ok!) if you have struggled at services, grew up in a Jewish camping world, or would just like to try something different, I would encourage you to try it. You will be glad you did!
Editor's Note: Thanks to Mandy Golman for sharing this reflection. If you would like to write a blog post about your positive experiences at Shearith Israel, please contact Communications Director, Julie Carpenter at firstname.lastname@example.org
By Rabbi Shira Wallach
A lot of folks have asked me over the last two weeks how it’s been to return to work from maternity leave. First of all—it says a lot about the warmth and love of the Shearith community that so many of you have reached out to check on me and I am deeply grateful. And second—as you can imagine, it is bittersweet. But there are two fundamental thoughts that keep me going: I know that my daughters are well taken care of in a safe and nurturing environment and I love my job.
This past weekend was such an auspicious time to be present at Shearith. The end of summer often feels like a joyous reunion of dear friends as we all return from vacations and begin the school year together. And this year was no different: the Back-to-Shul Shabbat gave us the opportunity to look at our new collection of photos in our lobby, to reflect and recall the sacred moments we shared over the year 5779. Then, we ushered in Shabbat with our best boot forward in the Western Kabbalat Shabbat in Beck or the Western Shababa in Fonberg. To look around, to see old friends and new faces, beaming with the radiance of joy and connection, was truly special. This special feeling continued Shabbat morning as we shared a beautiful service together in Beck.
On Sunday morning, our blossoming Weitzman Family Religious School held its first day of learning. Parents, students, and teachers came together to study the mitzvah of welcoming and creating sacred community. At the same time, we hosted a seminar for Shearith leaders and staff to help us move from vision to action as we regard the inspiring and aspirational results of our Strategic Plan. The bustling energy in the building reminded me why I felt called to do this work in the first place, and why I keep coming into the office each and every day. I simply can’t wait to see the Ma’alot—the heights—to which we rise in 5780.
See you in shul,
CAt the Annual Meeting on Wednesday, June 5, Incoming President Shirley Davidoff shared her vision for the next two years. Here are Shirley's remarks:
Thank you. It is truly an honor to be the 58th President of Congregation Shearith Israel, following many other dedicated leaders of this synagogue. I want to specifically thank those Presidents who onboarded me to the path of Presidency—Sharon Levin, Todd Chanon, Gail Mizrahi and Jack Jacobsen. And Jack, it has been an honor to be your Executive Vice President and thank you for your leadership.
Little did I know, growing up in Galveston, that I would be following in the footsteps of my parents, Frances and Elihu (Chuck) Klein, of blessed memory, to become a synagogue president. Both my parents were President of Congregation Beth Jacob, our Conservative synagogue, and they individually or collectively were presidents of medical staff and auxiliary organizations, numerous Jewish organizations, and served on both community and nonprofit boards. I saw firsthand how they cared for others and how their commitment positively impacted our Jewish and non-Jewish community. Their leadership, volunteerism and philanthropy shaped my values and I am standing here tonight because they led by example.
I’d like to thank my husband—no—it is not Mark Davidoff—Mark is married to Tina and he is actually my uncle—Bill is my husband. Bill and I met the first day of college moving into a dorm at UT and since that moment he has been my constant supporter who understands my involvement and need for a strong sense of purpose. I am extremely grateful for our partnership and love.
I want to thank my other husbands—yes, I have a work husband Chuck Levin and two shul husbands, Jack Jacobsen and Irving Prengler.
Chuck, you’ve done this before with Sharon, your real wife, so this will be much easier. Thank you in advance and I appreciate your support.
Jack and Irving, my shul husbands, it’s been wonderful working with you—you both are true mensches and dear friends.
Jack—good news—Mark is stepping up as a shul husband so you are now off the hook.
Mark—welcome to the “family” and I’m thrilled to lead this congregation with you and Irving. With the two of you as doctors, and me as a nurse practitioner, I feel confident the “health” of our congregation is in good hands.
I want to thank my children, Eric and Kayla and Jeremy and Tina for being here tonight. I am extremely lucky to have raised two wonderful sons and I now get to nurture two wonderful daughters. I am proud to stand here as your mother so that you see how giving back to an organization is a good investment of time and resources as it can greatly impact and strengthen you personally.
And I want to thank each of you, from the professional staff, to you as congregants.
Thank you to our Klei Kodesh, (Rabbis Sunshine, Wallach and Roffman, Cantor Zhrebker and Avi Mitzner) for your dedication and commitment to move us spiritually, educationally and emotionally. You are true partners that raise us up and steer us on our Jewish journey.
Thank you to Kim West, our COO, and the entire Shearith staff, who work in front of, and behind the scenes, engaging us in programs, teaching us and our children in creative and thoughtful ways, communicating our strengths internally and out to the community, assisting and supporting each other’s work, tracking our budget, greeting us at the front desk, on the phone and in the hallways, maintaining our building, and cleaning up after our many Kiddushes, simchas and programs. You are all exceptional and appreciated.
A few other thank yous…
To the Board of Directors, Board of Education and the numerous committee chairs and members – thank you to those who have served - and to those coming on board, thank you in advance for being forward thinkers.
To our gabbayim and minyan supporters, thank you for your daily and weekly dedication.
To our SISterhood, thank you for your deep commitment and support of Shearith.
To our Men’s Spirited Study Group, thank you for revitalizing our Men’s Club, let’s keep it going.
And to You, our congregants, thank you for your participation and ongoing support. Because of those who came before us, Shearith has been around for 135 years and YOU are the reason we will continue to be here in the future. You make up our Shearith Community—as new members to multi-generational members; singles and families—each bringing commitment, loyalty, enthusiasm, ideas and VALUE to Shearith Israel. One of the many highlights from our Strategic Planning Process was developing new Mission/Vision and Value statements with our core value statement stating—We are: A Caring Community, A Spiritual Community, An Innovative Community, and A Dedicated Community.
These words are not hollow but represent not only what we value but what we can accomplish. As your President, I believe it is my job to help us reach this potential and strengthen us as a community. After working on the strategic plan, “Ma’alot—Ascending New Heights,” as a co-chair with Irving Prengler and Brad Altman along with the planning committee and foundations, I had the unique opportunity to help identify and discuss the many strengths and challenges we have as a congregation. These opportunities and discussions translated into a robust strategic plan document with initiatives that will structure our path moving forward. Our goal is to begin communicating and implementing these initiatives over the next several years, but we will be asking for your help. Don’t shy away—I, along with the officers, board, committees and staff will set things in motion but it is My role/Our role to energize You in this work. This isn’t about just showing up or the new service or program that is being planned for you. This is about partnering to create something bigger. It is about “creating meaningful moments”—moments of joy, wonder, understanding, reflection and kindness both individually and as a congregational community. Too often Presidents, boards or staff get caught up in prioritizing problems over creating moments. As president, I want to focus on creating “moments” through four areas that were so eloquently described in the book “The Power of Moments.”
It is my hope, through these four areas:
ELEVATION INSIGHT PRIDE and CONNECTION
we will see both positive and meaningful outcomes of:
—enhanced value and membership experience,
—increased commitment and volunteerism,
—positive financial trends
—and personal growth.
Our board, committees, Klei Kodesh and staff will work hard to organize events, enhance prayer experiences, and provide volunteer opportunities but You/All of Us have to be the one to create or identify “moments”—big or small. What will you hear, see, participate in that could lift you up, spark discovery and understanding, empower you, and deepen relationships based on shared values?
Here are some ideas of what to look for in regards to creating these moments within our Shearith community:
Elevate – Moments of elevation are experiences that change your expectation; break the script from your everyday, moments that make you feel engaged, motivated, joyful. These don’t have to be “wow moments” but are experiences that still impact you. Elevation is something we even describe in our new Mission statement: Elevate your soul.
Intriguing, but how do we get there? Let us show you.
Creating elevated moments will be in:
—our religious school where new teaching modalities awaken the student that can have a lasting impact for years to come. This year, we plan to take out four Sunday School days moving them to Friday night experiences to ELEVATE the learning of both the child and the parent, trading conventional learning with family-based learning.
—Moments will be available through our evolving prayer options ELEVATING meaningful, spiritual experiences from traditional to innovative. If you want traditional, we have it. If you want music, we have it. If you want young family options, we have that, too. Everyone is welcome to drop in. Make a point to come -to something- to see what it is about. It might be your style or it might not, but don’t formulate an opinion until you’ve tried it.
—Other moments of ELEVATION can be through a sensory boost—having music played tonight as we were eating, Elevates this installation; an alternate reading on Shabbat or even jokes after Shabbat announcements are elevating an experience.
—And look for Elevation through our social action projects. They will trigger your participation and stimulate your core beliefs while, at the same time, ELEVATING someone less fortunate who will benefit from your kindness. I became involved at Shearith through social action—those “moments” spoke to me and ultimately gave me my “voice” as a leader.
Insight What do moments of insight look like? These would be moments where you feel empowered or reflective.
—Insight can come from one-on-one conversations with our Klei Kodesh, staff, or other congregants that stretch our thinking and empathy.
—You can find insight through a sermon or teaching that awakens you and broadens your understanding and interest. We need to ask: What are the things Judaism needs to say that will be important enough to galvanize you or a younger generation to be involved and connected to Jewish life? Discussing poverty, hunger, human dignity, through a Jewish lens, can stimulate insight. It is important to speak out on anti-Semitism and hatred; and to support inclusion and civility. These issues concern all of us and energize younger generations. Don’t look through a red or blue lens – we are bigger than that, look through a human lens that can ultimately inspire us to live and act Jewishly.
We want to give you the tools to find insight - we can teach and motivate you but YOU will have to pursue what is offered. Imagine what you can learn, achieve, participate in, if you open yourself up and search for insight.
Pride: Shearith Israel has many proud moments of being a strong, vibrant conservative synagogue:
—moments of pride as our members grow as leaders and as philanthropists
—and moments of pride as we stand with Israel, committed to its existence and future.
These moments of pride are sparked by sense of accomplishment, of recognition and of achievement but it can also be about gratitude and telling our story.
Look for moments of pride as we become more “mission driven” in all that we do.
Pride…when we implement initiatives from our strategic plan – setting goals for committees to provide structure and accountability.
WE will have pride… as we embark on an Ambassador program where everyone representing Shearith, from our greeters and committee chairs to our volunteers out in the community, will go through a program to enhance our interactions and to be able to tell our story. This is essential as we connect with each other and the greater Dallas Jewish Community.
WE will have pride… in retiring the debt—not a popular topic but it’s there and not going to go away without each of us. Our pride IS connected to our financial stability. We are fiscally sound with tight checks and balances for us to continue to move forward but in order to strengthen our Jewish life here at Shearith, we need to pay off that debt. Join me and others in stepping up.
And... WE will have Pride in volunteering—I want to put the “Do” back in “Donate.” Show your pride by being on a committee, or volunteering for a one-time project. One person.. and another person.. and another person multiplies, adding pride to our synagogue, pride to the volunteer efforts and pride in ourselves. No successful organization or religious institution can have members with high standards but low commitment. Let’s shoot for high standards and high commitment. We will thank you and I hope you will thank us.
And lastly, moments of Connection: In a world of Facebook, Instagram and Twitter, where connections are brief “likes,” emoticons, shared photos and 140 max characters, moments of connections can be difficult. Our Klei Kodesh and staff truly value and care about each of us, but how to we deepen our relationships with one another?
—Based on our strategic plan, we will be creating engaging opportunities for smaller groups to connect for more meaningful interactions.
—We will work on spotlighting our members—each of you—in unique ways to get to know each other better
—We will reach out to introduce ourselves to younger generations, not forgetting about those of ALL generations that are already here
—And we will connect through shared community experiences, first rolling out a Shabbat program and dinner on Sept 20th to honor and thank our Shearith Holocaust survivors, Holocaust museum docents, volunteers and board members. We will then, after the High Holidays, have a Shearith night at the new Dallas Holocaust Museum to share this museum together, as ONE Shearith community.
Tonight, I have spoken to you about creating moments through ELEVATION, INSIGHT, PRIDE and CONNECTION. You now have your first assignment. You were handed a piece of paper as you were walking in that asks the question, “How can we help create moments with you?” Please give it some thought and let us know.
I am honored and excited to be your President and I look forward to helping you SEEK “moments” as well as YOUR help in creating them. Let’s focus on meaning and moments, not just on membership.
In closing, as I routinely do at Shabbat services, I’d like to leave you with an additional reading from our Siddur. I pick each reading based on what speaks to me that week and tonight I’d like to leave you with an adapted prayer for our congregation.
May the one who blessed our ancestors Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah, bless this holy congregation, men and women, sons and daughters, and all that is ours. May it be Your will to bless us, to hear our voices raised in prayer, and to protect us from any trouble and difficulty. Spread over us the divine canopy of peace and plant within us love and unity, peace and friendship. And let us say: Amen
At the Annual Meeting on Wednesday, June 5, President Jack Jacobsen reflected on his two-year presidency at Shearith Israel. Here are Jack's remarks:
Rabbis, Cantor, fellow officers, members of the Board, our staff and our Congregation:
Where to begin? The journey to ascend to president of this sacred institution began over eight years ago when Mark Davidoff asked me to meet him for drinks. I walked into the bar at the Westin Galleria and was ambushed by Mark, Sharon Levin, Todd Chanon and Gail Mizrahi where I was “asked” if I would consider becoming a vice-president; actually I believe I was told I didn’t have a choice, and thus I got on the track to becoming president. And now those eight years are coming to a conclusion.
These past eight years, and in particular the past two years, have been enormously rewarding. I have gotten the opportunity to know so many people throughout the congregation. I have heard your stories — about things you like about Shearith Israel and in some cases what you don’t like.
At my installation speech two years ago, I pledged to ensure that each of you would be heard. I hope you feel that I upheld that pledge. Whether it was the result of our high holiday survey and the actions we took based on the responses we received, or the input we sought in developing the strategic plan. But I’m confident those steps are only the beginning as I know Shirley, Irving and Mark will continue to seek your input as they continue to move the Shul in a new direction.
And while on the topic, when I started my presidency, it of course coincided with Rabbi Sunshine beginning his tenure as our new spiritual leader. Rabbi Sunshine, along with Rabbis Roffman and Wallach, Cantor Zhrebker and Avi, have done an amazing job to establish a direction for our future. And just in the past two years there have been so many new programs that have been implemented, including Torah on Tap, Prayer Rhythms, the Couples Class, Women’s Torah Study and Guys' Night Out and some that just continue to grow like Shababa. And under the leadership of Sarah Lipinsky, our religious school is once again the place where families want to send their children. People again are talking about Shearith Israel in the community for the right reasons.
When I took on the presidency, one of my foremost goals was to retire the debt. Unfortunately, we are not there yet. At this point, the current balance of the loan is $3,475,000 and we have $711,000 in outstanding pledges. I am very pleased to report to you that 91% of our board has made a donation or pledge to the Burn the Mortgage Campaign. Why is this significant? Because when we go to potential donors, we can show that our board is fully behind the campaign and to helping us eliminate this burden. With the help of Kenny and Sherry Goldberg who are chairing the campaign, we will get there. Thank you Kenny and Sherry for all your efforts on this important endeavor.
And now for a few additional thank yous.
To our Gabbayim, the various committee chairs, and the countless members and volunteers who have given your time and helped make the last two years a success, I thank each and every one of you.
To Kim and the entire staff—thank you for all your hard work throughout the year. Many congregants have no idea how hard you all work to make all services and programs appear seamless to us. I would ask the entire staff to please stand so we can all acknowledge and express our appreciation.
To the Klei Kodesh--Rabbis Sunshine, Roffman and Wallach, Cantor Zhrebker and Avi: I have so enjoyed working with all of you these past two years. You all have such diverse perspectives on prayer, but ultimately you ensure that all congregants are touched, enriched and feel special. And that’s what is most important. And to Shira and Adam – thank you for helping to increase our membership with the recent arrival of Rebecca.
Ari—I was lucky to start my presidency at the same time as you started here. I would joke to many people that we had our honeymoon period together. I have truly enjoyed working with you but will also forever value the friendship we have developed these past two years.
Mark--I am so pleased that you are coming on board as an officer. The bond that you will develop with Shirley and Irving is something truly special--I am just jealous that I won’t be a part of that circle with you all.
Speaking of bonds--Shirley and Irving--I’m not sure I have the right words to describe the love and admiration I have developed for the two of you. We truly were a team, we had lots of great laughs, mostly from Irving’s jokes, a few difficult moments, but I cannot think of two other people I would have wanted to serve my term of president with. You know I will be here for both of you--just as you were always here for me. I love you both very much. Shirley --all the best as president. I know you will do an amazing job.
To my kids--Elliott and Emma. Elliott, who just completed his second year at Colorado and Emma who just yesterday returned from her gap year in Israel, I am so proud of you both. But I also want to publicly apologize to you. I know that many times when you guys were still living at home and I had shul meetings, I got home later than you would have preferred. I know we can’t get those times back but please know I was always trying to do the best I could as your dad. You have both grown up so much and are remarkable kids. I love you both so much.
And lastly--to the Congregation—thank you for the opportunity to serve as your president these past two years. It has been a true honor and privilege.
I would like to close with a passage from the Torah, from this week’s parsha Bemidbar, chapter 27:15:27:
“Moses spoke to the Lord, saying, 'Let the Lord, Source of the breath of all flesh, appoint someone over the community who shall go out before them and come in before them, and who shall take them out and bring them in, so that the Lord's community may not be like a sheep without a shepherd.”
How is this relevant? While Shirley will be taking over as the leader and shepherd of our community, shepherds work not only from the front of the flock but also from within and at the rear as necessary. While I will no longer be leading this sacred community, please know that I will continue to be in the middle and at the rear, continuing to offer guidance and support to help our congregation move forward into its future.
It is with extreme gratitude that I say Toda Raba.
At the Annual Meeting on Wednesday, June 5, Rabbi Ari Sunshine thanked outgoing President Jack Jacobsen for his exemplary service. Here are Rabbi Sunshine's remarks:
Jack, Pirkei Avot offers us another teaching that speaks of the derekh tovah, the good path in life to which one should cleave. Among the characteristics that are listed, we find “chaver tov,” a good friend and colleague, “ha-ro’eh et ha-nolad,” foresight, and “lev tov,” a generous heart. All three of these characteristics befit you to a "T."
Throughout your presidency you have partnered and collaborated expertly with your fellow officers and lay leaders and with our Klei Kodesh and staff team, making for an extremely smooth two years that has seemingly flown by in the blink of an eye as our congregational life has flourished. You have the gift of foresight, trying to stay one step ahead of things and plan for our congregation’s exciting future with the development of Ma’alot, our new strategic plan, during your tenure.
And you most certainly have a generous heart. You are generous with your time, always finding ways to carve out the space for meetings or to deal with an issue on the phone or via text or email amidst your incredibly busy professional commitments with your day (and night and weekend!) job. You are generous with your resources, leading by example both a couple of years ago, and again last month, with your meaningful and significant donations to our Burn the Mortgage Campaign. You never seek accolades or credit for your efforts, you’re comfortable just doing what needs to be done, because our community needs it. And you are generous with your friendship, the nexus between chaver tov and lev tov, caring and unwaveringly loyal to those you care about. You readily make space for them to be a part of your life, as you have done so warmly for me and Jen and our family over these past two years since we arrived here in Dallas. It has been a real honor and a pleasure and, quite frankly, a lot of fun. Jack, working with you during your tenure, I’m personally grateful for all of your support and for your friendship which I know will long outlast these two years of our partnership. I’ll miss my Chai Tea Latte and Blueberry Muffin on Wednesday mornings, but I know there will still be many shared l’chaim’s in our future.
On behalf of the Klei Kodesh, I’d like to present you with this gift of a beautiful wine fountain. We know how much you like to host others in your home for Shabbat and holidays, and with this fountain you can easily share kiddush wine with all of your guests just as you have shared with us so much else as president of our shul. We hope you will enjoy this and use it often in the months and years ahead.
Jack, we extend a hearty and heartfelt yasher koach to you for all of your efforts as president of Congregation Shearith Israel over these past two years, and we know you won’t be a stranger as you continue to be an integral leader in our community. With that, I now formally discharge you from your position as president of our congregation and welcome you to the “past presidents club!”
By Rabbi Ari Sunshine
For those of you who attended my installation here at Shearith Israel back in December of 2017, you might recall that I was installed by Rabbi Murray Ezring from Temple Israel in Charlotte, NC. Murray is my rabbinic mentor, the Senior Rabbi I worked with at the beginning of my rabbinic career, and a dear friend and trusted advisor and confidant throughout the years since. This past weekend I was privileged to return the favor and celebrate with Murray and his wife Barbara and their kids and grandkids in Charlotte as he retired from Temple Israel after 25 years of service. I was honored to be able to offer him a charge during Shabbat morning services, and I wanted to share with all of you what I shared with Rabbi Ezring and the assembled congregation, reflecting on his impact on my life and rabbinate and on his entire congregation.
It’s a real treat to be with all of you today back in this beautiful sanctuary and on this bimah that was the first pulpit I ascended when I was a “baby rabbi”. Moreover, it’s a special privilege to be able to stand before you and before Rabi Mori, my rabbi and teacher, my mentor and dear friend Rabbi Murray Ezring, to honor him on this milestone weekend celebrating his retirement after 25 years of faithful and dedicated service to Temple Israel.
Where to begin? How about we start with 5 things I learned from Rabbi Ezring in those first 5 years of my rabbinate:
1) When you write a sermon, first come up with the message you want to give and then look for the text that will reinforce that message. People want to hear about real life and want to hear Torah that is relatable and impacts the way they think and the choices they make.
2) Never be afraid to experiment when it comes to synagogue services, programming, or initiatives. Rabbi Ezring used to say he was always willing to try something once, and I have followed that advice in my own rabbinate.
3) Be accessible as a rabbi and a human being and always go out of your way to be there for, and with, people. Rabbis should not be distant from their community. The way we celebrate with a family at their simcha or are fully present for them when they are in crisis or after a loss is vital to building relationships and being the pastor congregants need us—and deserve for us—to be.
4) When clergy colleagues earn your trust, partner with them and work together to create an effective clergy team. Empower each other and encourage each other to do what each of you does best and the congregation as a whole will benefit. Among other things, this is partly why Murray gave me flexible time on Thursday evenings and Sunday mornings when I worked here so that I could play in the JCC basketball and softball leagues and build important relationships that way.
5) Seek out partnerships in the interfaith community and cultivate them, and not just for the sake of educating each other and our congregations about different religious traditions. We live in a world that is much larger than the walls of any one synagogue, church or mosque, and we need to work together to make that world better. The faith community can play a vital role in that effort. The relationship Rabbi Ezring has with Dr. James Howell at Myers Park United Methodist Church and so many other local clergy has been a model for me to follow in the congregations I have served since I left here.
When I sat down in a room at JTS with Rabbi Ezring and David Miller back in the spring of 2002, I was already a finalist for several associate rabbi positions and the three of us had a frank discussion about whether Jen and I could see me taking the job and us moving to Charlotte. I told them, of course we could see it happening, otherwise we wouldn’t be talking about it and considering an interview weekend. But it’s important that you all know what the single biggest reason was that I chose to take this job at Temple Israel back in 2002. That reason was Rabbi Murray Ezring. Having met with several different senior rabbis that were looking for associates, and then having spent time talking with Murray that night in NY and then here during my interview weekend, I quickly became convinced that Murray would welcome me as a trusted partner and provide me the opportunity to learn and grow, and succeed and fail, as a “baby rabbi”. I knew he would be the right mentor for me. And I am so incredibly grateful for the choice I made, and for the relationship and friendship that developed between us in those 4.5 years and continued to thrive in the 13 years since. Murray and Barbara and their kids and grandkids came to Maryland to celebrate Jonah’s BM with us back in 2016, our families vacationed together in Orlando for Pesach one year, Murray and Barbara came to Dallas in December of 2017 to install me as Senior Rabbi at Shearith Israel, and they also came to visit us this January for several days. That’s not to mention the time I flew down to Charlotte to take Murray and his family out to dinner to make good on a bet after the Yankees beat the Orioles in the 2012 ALDS. Moreover, Murray and I still talk frequently and if I’m ever in a pinch and need Rabbinic advice, I’ll always pick up the phone and call him.
Being a congregational Rabbi is an incredibly demanding job, one that never really stops or yields even late at night or when on vacation. It can be exhausting and there are days when it can feel burdensome for a rabbi and his or her whole family who pay the price for the rabbi needing to be available sometimes on a moment’s notice to help with a crisis. In today’s parasha, Bechukotai, we find a juxtaposition of 11 verses of blessings God will provide us if we do what we’re supposed to do, followed by 32 verses of curses in case we choose not to follow the plan. At first glance one might think the curses—the burdens—of a pulpit rabbinate might outweigh the blessings, which at times could appear to be fewer in number. But at the end of the day the blessings that we experience as rabbis when we become an important part of your lives are so much deeper, richer and more powerful than those burdens or curses. And likewise it is a tremendous blessing for a congregation to be in relationship with their rabbi for such a long time, reflecting the importance of mutual care for each other as human beings. Temple Israel is so fortunate to have experienced Rabbi Ezring’s leadership, wisdom, wit, and warmth, over this last quarter century—yes, 25 years. We’re all better off for being able to call him Moreinu Rabbeinu, our rabbi and our teacher, and our friend.
Murray, thank you for all you’ve done for me over the years, thanks for trusting me, for laughing with me and occasionally at me, for advising me, and for being my very good friend. And thank you for all you’ve done for Temple Israel over these last 25 years of partnership. Mazal Tov to you and Barbara, to Aviva, Tami, Adam, Ron and Gil, and to Addison and Kobe of course, for reaching this amazing milestone. May the years ahead bring you as much fulfillment as these years you are concluding now. Love you, buddy.
Shearith Israel clergy, staff and congregants share