Temple House of Israel

Yizkor

Yom Kippur

10 Tishrei 5769/9 October 2008

Temple Beth El

Harrisonburg, VA

Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell

I spoke this morning about Yom Kippur as a day of descent. For some, the destination of our descent is yizkor, this service of memory, of remembering. Just about every single one of us gathered in this sanctuary is here to intentionally remember—to bring to mind with a clarity that is facilitated by and on this day—to reassemble, in our mind’s eye, the stage on which we played with friends and beloveds, now gone. This day provides that state—it is up to us to recall the props, the staging, the lines and the cues. We address ourselves to this challenge as if—if we did it right, remembering the way the light glistened in her hair, the full laugh that so delighted—or embarrassed us—that ridiculous outfit, that keen sense of duty, that passionate involvement, that loving presence—if we could only remember it fully, we might bring our beloved back to us—for one last word, one final embrace, a request for forgiveness, a tear of regret, a burst of gratitude.

But we do not have that power. We have memory, yes, but not the power to bring back the days when our loved ones sat beside us, nudging, loving, cajoling, spoiling us, celebrating life with us.

So today we look for ways to honor the memory of those who enriched our lives with their presence. Now that they are gone, it is up to us to carry out their precious legacies. While we Jews often name our children after those who have passed away, how often are we equally intentional about picking up their dreams—and taking concrete, deliberate steps towards fulfilling hopes those we loved were not able to realize. Sometimes we fulfill the dreams of our beloveds simply by living full, purposeful lives. We know for whom we were the life project. Other times, it is easy—and joyful—to help realize their commitments, for we share the values that shaped them, and that shaped us. Sometimes, although we love them and miss them, the legacies of our beloveds are complicated and even challenging to our beliefs. Perhaps today will open a window to enable us to reconsider this legacy—and work towards transforming it—in memory of a beloved who loved to eat—or cook—we could work to end hunger, locally or beyond geographical boundaries. To honor the memory of one who was unable to show love, perhaps our involvement in or support of an organization that provides loving homes—for discarded people or abandoned animals—perhaps such work would work to heal our own deep sense of loss.

It is up to us to create living memorials to those we loved—to extend the influence of their goodness, their kindness, their passions—beyond the grave. And, if we can, to work towards repairing their broken dreams, by creating opportunities for others—in their name.

So on this day of memory, may we enters the doors of yizkor honoring that memory is a complex and challenging exercise. And that finally, each of us is enriched beyond measure because for some time we were privileged to share this world with each of those who is now gone.

Ashreinu. How blessed are we, for their lives, for their gifts, their passions, their joys.

May we be worthy guarantors of their memory.

Shir HaMa’a lot: A Song of Ascents

Temple House of Israel, Staunton, VA

Temple Beth El, Harrisonburg, VA

10 Tishrei 5769/8&9 October 2008

Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell

During one of my first visits to the Shenandoah Valley, Nurit and I visited one of the caverns. I later discovered that I was following a family tradition—my grandparents included a visit to a Shenandoah Valley cavern on their honeymoon in 1916! I will never forget my first descent into the unexpectedly beautiful world below the surface of the earth. I kept wondering about the first individuals to “discover” these formations. Once they kindled light to illuminate the beauty around them, did they think that they had descended into a kind of heaven, and that the myths of a hot and smoldering ugly netherworld had simply been wrong? Were they dazzled, as were we, by what they saw? What did they think of the even temperature and the cool water that glides down the walls and creates sparkling, shimmering pools on the floor?

My first visit was followed by another. Even if I visited every year that I am blessed to be with you here, I will never take for granted the magnificent power of the stalactites and stalagmites that form curtains and columns and vistas of natural beauty that delight and amaze so many visitors every year. We who visit this magical world below are afforded a glimpse into the formation of the earth hundreds of millions of years ago, vistas that take our breath away.

The cavern provides a powerful metaphor for us as we enter into this solemn and challenging day of Yom Kippur.

This is a day of mystery and wonder. On this day, we are encouraged to enter a place that is both familiar and unfamiliar. When you, fortunate residents of this area, approach any of the caverns, the terrain is familiar and welcoming. And then you descend below the surface of the earth, and, perhaps like me, are amazed anew. So it is with this day. We enter this familiar sanctuary, and greet friends, family, and acquaintances. We welcome newcomers who are grateful to have found a community with whom to observe this Day of Awe. And then we open the machzor, the High Holiday prayerbook, and we are ushered into the liturgy of this uniquely solemn day. And as Yom Kippur progresses, we descend deeper and deeper into the cavern of our souls.

The metaphor of descent mirrors the journey of the ancient High Priest into the Holy of Holies on this day. This is how Rabbi Jill Hammer describes the Yom Kippur ritual:

Nothing could be more mysterious than the image of the high priest entering the holiest chamber of the Temple on Yom Kippur. As the high priest utters the secret name of the Divine within a cloud of incense, it is as if he planted the sacred word like a seed, creating the cosmos anew. Emerging from the shrine, the high priest renews the land and inspires the people to awe and repentance.

She continues,

On Yom Kippur, many Jews fast and pray the whole day. The words of the Yom Kippur prayers are like the winding journey of the high priest toward the Holy of Holies. Each prayer takes us a little closer to the innermost depths of ourselves. On this day, we are all high priests meeting the Divine in privacy and intimacy. Surrounded by clouds of song and petition, we are able to look into our hearts more deeply than on any other day of the year.[1]

We enter into this day, this day that is the Holy of Holies, as if we were entering one of the nearby caverns. Some of us are unsure about whether or not to enter this day of descent. We’re here because of someone else’s idea of what Judaism asks—or demands—of us. We entered this synagogue tonight as a tourist enters a renowned  cathedral, with curiosity and respect, but without commitment. But Yom Kippur is not like any other day in our calendar. This is the Day of Awe, the day when individuals become community by collectively opening our hearts. So you who are hesitating—take the hand of the one beside you. You who hold back, catch the reassuring glance and the outstretched arm of your neighbor. For centuries, Jews have taken the risk of journeying into the dark on this day. Together, we muster the courage to step into the unknown of this Sabbath of Sabbaths, this Day of Judgment.

How well prepared are we for this journey? Do we carry sources of illumination with us? Like early cave explorers, we may carry only candles, which are easily extinguished. Once they’re out, we may find that our matches have become soggy and unusable. How will we make our way in the dark? We move closer together to reassure ourselves that we are not alone.

The air thins, and we find ourselves gasping for breath. But as the seconds become minutes, our breath returns and oxygen courses through our veins and arteries without our willing it. We’re surprised by a wave of calm that follows the panic. We realize that our eyes are slowing becoming accustomed to the lack of light. We’re not going to perish here.

A descent into darkness need not be a one way journey. Rather, this awesome day welcomes us to name the difficult, challenging, painful, narrow passages in our lives, to acknowledge the fears that stop our hearts. By providing particular words, and music, and silence, this day guides us through our descent into awe. After some time, our eyes become accustomed to the darkness, and we begin to step slowly, and deliberately, through the deep.

And as our sight seems to return to us, now sharper than it was, so do we find ourselves better able to hear in this distinct place. We hear the soft breathing of the others who entered this place with us. On this day, we are not alone in our fear, in our awe.

When fear begins to subside, awe begins. Once our eyes become accustomed to the dancing glints of light, we realize that we have descended into a place of profound and overwhelming beauty. No matter how many times we go into the caverns, we are delighted anew by the whimsical and fantastic natural formations. So can each descent into this day bring new insight. Whether we’re here reluctantly or intentionally, Yom Kippur helps us move from fear to awe.

But when we turn from fear to awe we do not banish fear. Rather, we name it. By descending into the dark we acknowledge our limitations, our fallibility, our humanness. In the quiet of this altered space, we feel our smallness, our insignificance, our frailty. And in this place of awe, we face the supernal beauty of creation. In the luminous presence of the Creator, we may see only our flaws.

We call out: Avinu Malkenu: our Father, our King. Our petition is communal. Avinu malkenu, honenu v’anenu. As a collective, in a single voice, we call out, and we ask God to answer us. We are frightened because we have fallen, we have missed the mark. Hurtful words have spilled out of our mouths. We have inflicted harm on others and on ourselves. We have failed to speak the truth, to work for peace, to care for those in need. Yet as we turn to the Holy One in this deep place, we turn together. We do not say, “ashamti, bagadati, gazalti, I have been “arrogant, brutal, careless,” but ashamnu, bagadnu, gazalnu,” we have stumbled and fallen, “our sins are an alphabet of woe.”[2]

For even as we arrive at these days, at this place, with our hands full of the deeds– and the misdeeds of the past year, we also arrive having sought—and granted—forgiveness to one another. Our liturgy reminds us, “For transgressions against God, the Day of Atonement atones; but for transgressions of one human being against another, the Day of Atonement does not atone until they have made peace with one another.”[3] As we all know, building and maintaining families, communities, or congregations, is difficult and demanding work. Because we are human, we hurt one another—usually unintentionally, but not always. Healing community is holy work. That is the work that precedes this day. Sometimes, it happens on this day. As we hear ourselves intone these words, “Ashamnu, bagadnu, gazalnu,” we realize that we are all fallible. We all fall down. We all disappoint ourselves and others. The very process of repeating these words as a collective can be healing. We can begin to forgive ourselves—and one another.

As we stand in the darkness of this day, and as one, cry out to our Creator, “Avinu Malkenu, be gracious and answer us,” we find the Source of Compassion waiting for us. On this day, we are not exiled, or banished. We are forgiven. We are embraced. And we now see that God’s light illuminates not only our failings but also our fortitude, not only our stumbling but also our shining spirits.

Again and again throughout our lives, we descend into the depths. This day tells us that no matter how terrifying the darkness, on this day or on any day, we are never alone there. The Holy One is waiting for us there. On this day, we call to God El Rachum v’Hanun, God of mercy and lovingkindness, erech apaim vrav hesed v’emet—endlessly patient, loving and true. We who take the risk of truly entering into this day are rewarded by discovering the Source of Compassion who acknowledges our fears and welcomes our tears. When we descend we are embraced by a Source of Kindness who invites us to see our own strength.  God waits for us not only on this day, but whenever we enter the cavern of darkness that is always just below the surface of our lives. Today we learn that darkness need not be a place of despair.

The ancient psalmist asks:

“Lord, whither can I go from your spirit?… If I ascend to the heavens, You are there! If I make my home in the lowest depths, behold, You are there!”[4]

God is waiting for us, not only today, but every day of our lives.

And the community is waiting for us as well. Jews survive when we lift up the fallen. At some time or other, all of us fall. Just as God meets each of us in the depths, so does God inspire and empower the community to extend hands and hearts when we are in need.    

Psalm 126 is familiar to many of us. It is one of fifteen psalms that begins, “Shir HaMa’alot: a song of ascents,” and is sung on each Shabbat and festival at the beginning of Birkat haMazon, the blessing after meals. The final verse of this five-verse psalm begins with four powerful words: “Ha’zorim b’dimah b’rinah ikzaru: Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy.” The plural form reflects the universality of human experience. For those who live on the land, planting, sowing seeds, is an essential step towards providing sustenance for both family and community. Sowing, then, serves as a symbolic action for all work in the world. Like all of creation, plants and animals, fish and fowl, we human beings live and then die. We mourn in a particularly human way, with wailing, with silence, with tears and with words. And while we often take time away from our daily pursuits after a loved one dies, we must soon return to the work that sustains us and our loved ones. Our tears mix with our sweat and with the dew that enables young plants to mature into grain, into vegetables, into fruit. And as days and months pass, we move, slowly, haltingly, away from immediacy of grief. When seasons change and the time of harvest comes, we discover that darkness has become light, and that mourning has turned to dancing. Those who sow in tears reap in joy.

The ascent from the depths of this day of repentance may be arduous for some. The ascent from the depth of loss may seem nearly impossible for many. We may want to stay in the darkness, not sure how we will manage in the light. But this day, which is finally, a day of joy, calls to us. Make the journey. You will find that darkness is rich and fruitful, a place of awe and beauty. Come down, and then come up. And in the ascent, you may discover that your heart is unburdened and that your mind is clear. And that you can face the new year with a new-found sense of joy and perhaps even hope.

Remember the High Priest and his ancient journey into the Holy of Holies? Rabbi Jill Hammer teaches,

“The high priest does not overly prolong his prayer so as not to worry those who wait for him. We too do not prolong our prayers more than necessary. We finish the service at the moment of [sunset], and emerge from the fast into our daily lives.”[5]

When the sun sinks below the horizon, we conclude our Yom Kippur prayers and kindle the havdalah candle. We return from the depths, and from our individual encounters with our Source. And we discover that those who accompany our descent have become essential companions as we reclaim the light. We ascend from silence and open our mouths with song. After a day of petition and prayer, we have exchanged fear for awe, and despair for joy.

So let us go forth, each one of us, into this Yom Kippur day and into this new year, with a new appreciation for the power of the deep. May we enter this day and this new year with strength to face the darkness that awaits us all, and with the confidence that our faith—and our community—can illuminate unexpected paths to beauty and to joy.  

Our Community & Miracles             5769                            Rabbi Joe Blair

This past year was a year of much activity in our community, much going on. Most of you can think back and recall it.

This past year, we have had more than our share of illness; we suffered deaths, close calls, health scares, a number of personal tragedies, and many troubles. We saw job losses, estrangements, and accidents. The number and variety of traumas among our community has been greater than anyone could have guessed. We have seen many lives of those among us changed in significant ways; much sadness, sorrow, and loss. And we have ALL been touched by it.

At the same time, some (even much) of what has occurred has been good, sometimes even wonderful. Our community has been strong, and supported each other and those in the larger community.  We have given; financially and personally. We have striven to make a difference, to help others, to live out the Jewish values we hold dear.

A few examples: We held healing services for our community to help address the pain we felt. The caring committee came into formal being and has been active ever since. We established the Chevrah Kadishah, the holy burial society, and the members stand ready to perform, offering the most selfless act possible – for those whom they help in this way can never give anything in return.

We added regular Shabbat morning services to our calendar, providing another opportunity and way to join together and to share the peace of Shabbat. We had the first Holocaust Education Week, and worked with the larger community to make known the fact that it is everyone’s responsibility to support the idea of ‘never again.’ The Staunton Jewish Film Festival was successfully initiated, reaching out to Jews and non-Jews alike. We added many opportunities for education and Jewish learning at all levels.

We were blessed with several new Jewish souls, and in the course of this year we celebrated at least one naming, one bris, one marriage, and one B’nai Mitzvah.

We know that our community is a blessing. In times of trouble our community supports and sustains us. In moments of celebration the same members of the community share our joys and uplift us.

What we don’t know until it is our turn to be supported is just how much of a blessing our community really is. We can not even imagine how important, how meaningful, how supportive it is to have the community members there when they are most needed to keep one from feeling utterly alone and abandoned. At those times, when we question G-d most, at times of pain and trouble, to have others stand beside you as you face those feelings is more than anyone can describe. It is a deep, loving, and life-sustaining link that is felt and understood, but is inexplicable and unexpressible.

Our community is more than those we happen to live amongst. The community we live in is our place of prayer, and often, as we have seen, it is also the answer to our prayers. It is the locus for our life cycles, and the stage where we live out our life. Our joys and sorrows play out against the backdrop of that community. Community is always there, around us. Without community, we would be lost.

Just as others are there for you, you have also been there for those others. Make no mistake: you are as much needed by them, as they are by you.

Recently I have heard someone say, ‘but I was just doing what is right, or what I should’, or ‘I really didn’t do anything, I just said a few words’ or ‘I just brought by some food because I knew they wouldn’t have a chance to stop and get something’, or ‘I just called or dropped by to let them know I was thinking of them – they didn’t really need me to talk to them, and I couldn’t do anything for them.’ 

Not so, my friends. Not so at all. You can have no idea how much your simple presence, or your smile, a friendly word, or a small gesture can mean to someone as they face the dark moments of the soul. What you do is NOT a small thing.  Never say, ‘just’.

A story to help me illustrate this point:

            [Here I reold the story of “Just a Miracle” by Rabbi Mitch Chefitz about Elijah and recognizing

             miracles, where the word 'just' blinds everyone to their presence.]

My friends, never imagine that there is not a miracle in the very existence of each one of us. Every moment is full of miracles – what I call ‘everday miracles’. The smile of a child, the beauties of the setting of the sun, the rainbow after a storm, the mountains and foothills rising up, the mist lifting above the trees in the morning, and the waves on the shore.

It is up to us to make the effort to find them, to see them, to recognize them for what they are. Each one is a tiny, perfect moment, a glimpse of what is and what can be, and we can find them when we look. That is why there are specific blessings for such experiences in our tradition.

And sometimes, just sometimes, we are fortunate enough to discover and to see that these tiny everyday miracles join together to form larger miracles. When we think of the wave, we see this in microcosm.

At the moment, we look and see that there is one perfect wave, one tiny miracle that hits the shore. If we continue to watch and see , we see another, and another, and another - an unending stream of waves that each roll up and crash upon the beach. This endless ebb and flow of wave following wave following wave is what makes for the larger miracle, an ongoing miracle.

Each single event is a tiny miracle. Together they create something much more than the sum of their parts.  So it is with us and our community.

When you look around you in this sanctuary, when you see the others here, and feel the sense of kehillah kedoshah (holy community) that together we create, you sense how all of the other people are here and supporting you in creating this community. Their presence is important to you now, today. Equally so, you are supporting them, and your presence is important to each of them.

That sense of mutual suport is one of the ways that you know that our community would not be as strong, and vibrant, as healthy, or as full of love as it is without you, as it is with you as part of it. Your very presence is one of the tiny miracles, as is the presence of each other person here. All of us together are what makes up this community. And we all, together, add our tiny evertday miracles one on top of another, building up, and creating the larger miracle that goes on and reaches far beyond any one of us can imagine.

So always remember: you are not ‘just’ anything – you are a tiny miracle to others, and an integral part of the larger ongoing miracle of our community. Our community is there for you, as you are there for it. Chazak, chazak venitchazek. May our community go from strength to strength in strength.

Leshanah tovah umetukah tikateivu

Rabbi Joe 

““???? ??? ????

Hayom Harat Olam

Erev Rosh HaShana

Temple Beth El, Harrisonburg, VA

September 29, 2008/1 Tishrei 5769

““???? ??? ????

These three words, which are found in our machzor, our High Holiday prayerbook, are often translated as “today the world is created,” or “today is the birthday of the world.” 

My colleague Rabbi Ayelet Cohen teaches that a closer look at these three words “tells us much more.  ???? means ‘today,’ that part is simple enough.  But the Hebrew word????  means not only ‘world,’ it also means ‘forever/eternity.’” Today eternity is created. Today forever begins.

So a simple phrase that might have led us into a chorus of happy birthday rather stops us– and asks us to think not only about marking time, but rather to consider the nature of time. We are invited to consider the relationship not only of then and now, but how now relates to forever.   

Rabbi Cohen continues, and further challenges us: “The word ??? is the most difficult one in the phrase.  It comes from the Hebrew ?????, or pregnancy.  Here it functions as a verb and a noun at the same time, implying a creative act that is not sudden or abrupt but one that requires a long period of gestation.  The elasticity of the words and of this phrase teaches us to go beyond the simple meaning.  When we read???? ??? ????  in our ????? we are saying, ‘Today the world was created,’ but also ‘Today we celebrate the constant creation of the world.’  Today is pregnant with eternal creation.”[1]

Hayom Harat Olam becomes, then, not only a statement, but also a challenge. On this day, we consider not only how we live in and measure time, but also how we honor, mirror and illuminate the mystery of continuing creation.

Let us take a moment to listen to the world. Let us take a moment to listen to eternity. Don’t get up. Stay in your seat. Begin to listen. You may settle more deeply into the pew, letting go of any physical stress or discomfort you may have been experiencing. You may want to straighten up to better hear the sounds that are waiting for you to hear. You may feel your spirit moving to the back of the sanctuary, or even out of the door, ready to dance in the evening breeze. Let yourself listen.

What do you hear? Do you hear the clouds whispering as they glide across the night sky? Do you hear the earth settling in for the night, relieved that the majority of humans who have illusions of control as they drive and cycle and walk on the earth are now, because of the dark, huddled in their frail buildings, leaving the out of doors to the insects and birds and animals who know how to navigate the night? Do you hear those creatures calling to one another in forests and deserts and on mountain tops? Do you hear the quiet murmurings of parents on the other side of the globe as they tuck their children into bed or as they gently wake them as the new day dawns? Can you hear this beautiful, fragile universe breathing, humming, singing?

Listen.

Do you want to respond? Do you want to join in?

Can you find a voice in which to harmonize with or provide a counterpoint to this song?

Some of us are life long members of the world choir. Some of us hear—and join—in the song of eternity every time we garden, or when we sing a child to sleep, or when we sit beside one who needs our presence. Some of us feel our hearts open in song every time we enter this building.

Others of us are straining to hear the music. Some of us have closed our ears and our hearts. Some of us have accepted deafness as our permanent condition. But the universe is singing to us, every day of our lives. On this night, Judaism urges every one of us to rouse ourselves from the slumber that has prevented us from hearing eternity’s song. Hayom Harat Olam: today is the day when birthpangs rock our world, when creation begins anew.

What is one of the messages of eternity’s song? The Torah teaches in the Book of Numbers:

And in the seventh month, on the first day of the month, you shall have a holy convocation: You shall do no manner of work; it is a day of blowing the horn unto you. (Numbers 29:1)

And in the Book of Leviticus:

In the seventh month, in the first day of the month, shall be a solemn rest unto you, a memorial proclaimed with the blast of horns, a holy convocation. (Leviticus 23:24)

The chorus of eternity’s song may be as simple as: observe this holy day. Mark this anniversary of creation. One verse says: Do not work. Another verse directs us to blow the shofar.

The shofar sounds, and we begin to wake up. We awaken to eternity’s challenge: be present.  Be here now. Make this day the first day of the rest of your life.

A Talmudic teaching: “R. Zevid said, ‘if the first day of Rosh Hashana is warm, the whole year will be warm; if cold, the whole year will be cold’”. (Baba Batra 147a)[2]

Rabbi Zevid was not speaking about the temperature outside. Rather, he was speaking about the temperature inside. He was addressing the enthusiasm, the passion with which each of us approaches this day. Do we “warm” to this day, opening ourselves to the heat that true engagement demands? Do we turn up the heat of our spirits on this day of creation, this day when we glimpse eternity? Or are we tepid, lukewarm, room temperature? Have we, over the years, cooled down or even cooled off? Have we become cold, finding the entire enterprise of Judaism and Jewish practice chilly, off putting, frozen?

We all know that in order for human beings to function, we must maintain a particular, and in fact a very particular, body temperature. When we are ill, when our equilibrium is upset, our body temperature may drop or soar and prevent us from thinking clearly. When we become seriously overheated, or if our body temperature drops precipitously, our very lives are endangered. On this day, we are reminded that our lives depend on balance. And our spiritual lives depend on creating a climate of sufficient warmth so that we not only survive but thrive.

I would like to propose that there are, for each of us, three steps to waking up, and to opening the way to a year of warmth. These three steps can also be imagined as three concentric circles with permeable, shimmering boundaries. We begin with focusing on care for our souls. Then we expand our focus to our intimate companions. Then we extend our focus to the larger world. Join me as we explore three interrelated responses to the call of the shofar, to the call of the universe.

The Jewish calendar gives us ample opportunity to prepare for this Rosh Hashana day. Too few of us take advantage of the month of Elul, the month that precedes and ushers in Rosh Hashana. This is a month when we are invited and encouraged to engage in the process of heshbon hanefesh, taking an accounting of our souls. In fact, the shofar that will rouse us from our slumber tomorrow morning has been warmed up, so to speak, by being sounded every day during the month that preceded this day. Whether we took advantage of this month of preparation or not, each of us can now enter this process of caring for ourselves, for our spirits, for our souls. Our tradition teaches that rather than being a narcissistic or anti-social exercise, taking stock of and taking responsibility for one’s behavior and actions is what mature individuals must do. During the month of Elul and the first ten days of Tishrei, beginning today and continuing until Yom Kippur, we are encouraged to focus on our own lives, on how we care for ourselves, body and soul.

If we don’t care for ourselves, we cannot be present for others. Rosh Hashana, then, is a wake up call to each of us to mind our own health. To make sure that we have regular physical exams, and that we heed the direction and advice of our health care professionals. Rosh HaShana is a perfect time to re-commit ourselves to a regular program of exercise, or to a new approach to modulating our eating patterns.

But health is not confined to the body. How is our intellectual health? What are we reading? With whom do we engage in conversation? Are we speaking only to those with whom we agree? Are we open to ideas that challenge us and make us stretch intellectually? And what about our spiritual health? How do we, day after day, week after week, care for our souls?

We Jews are blessed with many tools for maintaining health. Our tradition has a rich body of prayers and texts that can be used as daily practice, from the moment we open our eyes until we close them again at the end of the day. By thanking God every time we eat, we are engaging in a spiritual practice of gratitude We are also making an explicit connection between our responsibility of caring for our bodies and our appreciation of our place in God’s universe. We begin at home—in the home of our own bodies, the bodies that are the physical container, the temporary home for our durable and infinite souls.

The renewed self, however, does not live alone. Every one of us gathered in this sanctuary tonight, whether we live alone in a modest apartment or in a rambling house, or whether we live in a dwelling that is filled with others and their comings and goings—each of us lives in a context of intimate relations. Whether we eat breakfast every day with our intimates, or whether they are thousands of miles away—each of us is in the center of a particular circle of souls. Some of us are quite conscious—and insistent—about our place as the center, the focal point of that circle. Others of us never think of ourselves that way. I ask you to take this time to place yourself in the center of the unique web that is your life now. Who are the people with whom you interact every day, those who make up your daily world now? This is your intimate circle. Whether these people are related to you or not, whether you have chosen these beloveds and companions or not, I ask you now to focus on these primary connections.

What is the quality of your interactions with these individuals? If you are truly taking care of yourself (step one), you are making space to be present for another. As we all know, intimate relationships are very demanding. They ask us to be present, to show up, to listen, and to interact. Many intimate relationships that come to an end do so because one of the partners is no longer present. He or she became distracted—by work or by something else that pulled them away from the demanding work of being present, showing up so that exchanges of quality and substance and meaning can happen.

Today is the day when we are called by the shofar to pay attention to our relationships. When we take ourselves seriously, we attend to appropriate self care. The healthy self can extend care to others. Our tradition teaches that these two circles of care are essential but insufficient.

My colleague Rabbi Jan Katzew recently shared the following teaching of Isaac Luria, the sixteenth century kabbalist. As you may know, Rosh Hashana is observed for two days in Israel, and in most communities around the world. In the Talmud, which is written in Aramaic, these two days of Rosh Hashana are called yom arichta, one long day. What does this mean? Chaim Vital, Isaac Luria’s student, tells that Luria’s response is that the two days of Rosh HaShana are like one long day. The work of the first day is to turn one’s attention inward: to review one’s deeds, to conduct a heshbon hanefesh. The work of the second day is to turn one’s attention to the world, to address oneself to tikkun olam. Tradition teaches us that this is the work of one long day: the work of each day is necessary but insufficient. The work of both days, together, is the essential challenge of this day of renewal.

HaYom Harat Olam. This day, when each of us is challenged to open our hearts and minds as the shofar jolts us from our slumber—this very day calls us to find a balance that works for us—between our inner work and our outer work, between caring for ourselves and caring for the world.

Today is a day to examine the causes, projects and the communities in which we are engaged. These days of reflection challenge us to re-evaluate and re-assess our involvement: are we lukewarm or have we cooled off? This is a time to remember and reclaim the heat that drew us to the work that reflects our vision of what the world can be. This day is a day to reclaim the sacred Jewish obligation of repairing the world.

Today the world is created. Today is pregnant with eternity. Tonight we listen to the universe calling us, challenging each one of us to wake up and to shake off the chill of our slumber. The silence and the song that we hear when we open our hearts includes the songs of our souls, the music of our souls bound up with the lives of others, the songs of our souls bound up with the world entire. The universe invites us to join the dance of repair and of return, and to sing songs of wholeness, hope and peace.

Let us go forth, my friends, with deep thanks to the Source of all for enabling us to once again celebrate creation. Cradled in the arms of this beautiful world, sheltered beneath the endless skies, may each of us be privileged to hear –and to sing–eternity’s song every evening, and every morning, of this new year. 

It is December 24th. Just about everywhere is going to close very shortly, and there will be nothing open for the next 24 hours.

Most of my neighbors and the members of my secular community are going to be celebrating a holiday. Some will do so in a secular fashion. A few will do so in a religious fashion. Most will create some mix of the two.

For me, my family, and my religious community, this is an odd day. It is an enforced day off of work for most (not that I hear many complaints on that score!). It is not a holiday. This year, in fact, it is not even close to any Jewish holiday. It is not a meaningful day in any way for us. There is no religious significance, and no cultural significance.

Once you look at the lights on your neighbors houses, there is not much left to do. I, for one, cannot stand the same old fare that appears from year to year on television (I am not much of a TV watcher, anyway), and the radio blasts a mind-numbing wintry mix of badly performed carols, sappy stories, and other pointless things that are just plain annoying.

So, what’s a Jew (or any non-Christian) to do?

It turns out that the only places that are reliably open on Christmas day are: (1) Chinese restaurants, and (2) movie theatres. Voila! The Answer!

 I wish my Christian neighbors and friends a happy, meaningful, and beautiful Christmas. I hope that they will be moved and filled with the spirit of their holiday, andf that there will be peace on earth, as they sing. As for me, and my family and friends, we will be enjoying movies and chinese food!

Seasons greetings to all.

Rabbi Joe  

New Initiatives:I am hoping that we can establish more adult education activities in a broader variety of topics. As an example of these, think of the programs on Security in Israel and the Jewish View on the Body & Energy programs that we held last fall. Think also of the Holocaust Education Programs as another example.  These are separate from and in addition to any rabbinic educational offerings I have or may offer. I want to encourage more participation in services by congregants, and am encouraging Sarah Grove-Humphries to conduct some song sessions to teach words and music to things old and new that we can sing during services. The goal is to add to the repertoire of the congregation, leading to the institution of a Shabbat Shirah (Sabbath of Song). In the longer term, this could be the nucleus of a singing group within the congregation that might assist with services periodically or perform in other venues. To support the goal of more participation by congregants in our services, I will continue to offer Torah and Haftarah reading support, adult B’nai Mitzvah training, and Gabbai training sessions. I am also considering offering a Shaliach Tzibur training on how to be a service leader, and a session on writing Divrei Torah (a sermon, homily, or Devar Torah). I am thinking of holding a few ‘healing services’ in the course of the year if there is interest.  I also want to float to the congregation at this point the idea of trying to create a Shabbat Chavurah, where perhaps as often as once a month, we would hold a Shabbat morning program for all interested members, including families and singles, people of all ages, all getting together for a brief Shabbat morning service, and after the service, offering some child friendly Jewish themed activity at the same time as a program aimed at adults; for both programs the themes of each would be coordinated so everyone would be focusing on the same thing, at whatever level they could. We would then have a pot luck lunch to follow, at which all could get together and talk about the theme as a community of learners including all ages, while eating. Perhaps this could also be a program that includes members from both congregations, and alternates location. I am delighted that Lyrissa will offer a concert at THOI in February. I would love to see an expansion of the idea of presenting performances at the congregation, including both Jewish events, and other things of general interest. Our facility has excellent acoustics and is a beautiful setting for many kinds of presentations.  All of these ideas are broadly connected to the concept of making the synagogue truly a communal center, as well as a Jewish house of gathering, learning, and worship. The old saying is true: Ein chadash tachat hashemesh (there is nothing new under the sun). J  ConclusionThis is a rough idea of what I have been working on in the last year, and what I plan to work towards in the coming year. I will be glad to respond to questions.   Respectfully submitted, Rabbi Joe BlairDecember 2^nd, 2007    

Outreach/Inreach:Chaplain:I have been called by RMH and AMC to serve as ‘chaplain’ to unaffiliated Jews on a few occasions, and when possible I have done so. I have tried to convey to the hospital’s staffs that I will try to come when possible, but there is no assurance that I, as a member of the clergy and representing the Jewish community in our area, will always be able or willing to come when called.  Contacts from Jewish non-members: I have continued to be welcoming and invited them to observe and attend. It is my sense, and I remain hopeful, that if they feel comfortable with our community they will join. We have had some success this year in membership growth (more on that from our VP of Membership, I hope). Whenever I had contact with a potential new member I have passed that information on for follow up. Shenandoah Valley Holocaust Education Project: Recently, as one of the founders of the group establishing the Shenandoah Valley Holocaust Education Project, I worked to bring another performance/presentation to our community. This was the play presenting Corrie Ten Boom Live, by Evelyn Hinds. This is the first program of the year. Our major focus will be a series of events spread around the area in early March. We are looking at additional and different types of programs. I am very excited to tell you that Norman Weinberg has agreed to come and speak at THOI on March 9^th, 2008. He is an exciting, dynamic and fascinating speaker, and he will tell us about the Cemetery Recovery Project he is involved with leading.  In the days around that event, there will likely be a performance of a play (based on the book Number the Stars, by Lois Lowry, dramatized by Kelly Brock), a dramatic reading of monologues from actual survivors (written by Kelly Brock), a visit by a survivor (or more than one), and possibly other programs, all at different venues in Waynesboro, Staunton, and Harrisonburg. There are also other very exciting possibilities that may come to fruition. I have great hope that this will be an ongoing event over many years, bringing in different people, speakers, programs, and events.  The THOI Staunton Jewish Film Festival (SJFF):I have been in contact with a few people, seeking sponsors, and have been working with Laurie and the committee to make this a success. We are planning it for April 11-17^th, 2008. At this point, it looks excellent. We have arranged for the use of the Visulite theater, and our festival can consist of up to seven films during the weekend (Friday to Sunday), with repeated showings over the course of a week. This is very exciting. Now we have to jump in and make it happen. My vision for this project is that it can become an annual event, and grow to be a major draw for THOI, Staunton, and the Valley. We need to start ‘small’ and grow it organically, but the potential is definitely there.   Social & Communal Events:We have had a successful start to the THOI Welcome Committee, holding a lovely New Member Welcome Brunch, which I happily attended, and I am looking forward to more such events.Next week, we have scheduled a Mitzvah Day and Pot Luck on December 9^th at 2 to 5. Bring your favorite food, and join us in maintaining our building through tasks ranging from cleaning and straightening inside to clearing leaves from the roof. On the books next after that is a new initiative which I suggested we try; a Game Day Social on the 25^th of December, when everything else is pretty much closed. This is intended as a social event, with everyone bringing ‘pot luck’ hors d’oeuvres and whatever games they like to play to the synagogue to get together and have a relaxed afternoon (from 2-6) when not much else is going on.  Israel Trip:One of the highlights this year for the ten congregants (three from Beth El and seven from THOI) who participated (along with me), was the trip to Israel. Even now, in fact this weekend at Shabbat services at Beth El, six of those who participated sat at the Oneg and looked at pictures, reliving the trip, telling stories  and laughing, for almost an hour and a half after the service. More than once in that conversation the question was asked about ‘when can we go back?’ Leading the trip was, for me, a very significant effort, quite exhausting, but given the responses, extremely rewarding, and definitely worthwhile both on a personal level, and for the long-term benefits that have flowed to both congregations from it. I don’t believe that we have the numbers to try to do an annual trip to Israel, but perhaps we should be looking ahead and planning another trip so people can plan and prepare themselves with plenty of time in advance. Similarly, perhaps we should also begin to plan some lesser congregational trips in years we don’t have an Israel trip: a long weekend in ‘Jewish New York’ for example. The costs for such a venture would not be prohibitive for most of our congregants, and with a shorter time away more congregants might be encouraged to participate. I would love to see this possibility explored for feasibility in both congregations.   Cont’d.  

The Religious School:This year the religious school has twenty-one students. I am teaching the Daled class (6^th and 7^th grades) consisting of three students, all in the 6^th grade.  I am also the sole tutor for the B’nai Mitzvah students, meeting quite intensively with them over the course of the year prior to their celebration. This is a very time-consuming, and labor intensive effort, consuming at least one hour for each student with whom I meet in a given week. With a small class, such as this year’s Daled group, it is not too overwhelming, but looking ahead to a year with eight or nine students preparing for B’nai Mitzvah (as is a possibility for the current Alef class), this would be a very significant commitment of time and effort. It may be worthwhile for the congregations to consider the use of individual and/or private tutors for the bulk of the preparation in such a situation.  The religious school had a Family Education day recently (November 18^th). The topic was Ellis Island and the immigration experience. It was very well received, and I was happy with the results. I believe these family education events are valuable additions to the curriculum.  In the last several years, to better meet the stated goals for the religious school, I have urged the implementation of the Chai and Mitkadem curricula in our religious school. These curricula have proven to be very successful so far when used and followed. These curricula have helped to focus the classes, organize and integrate the levels, and give the teachers a strong and well-designed resource in their planning and preparation. These materials do not assist, however, if the students don’t or won’t do the work assigned – no materials, and no instructor, would. The final responsibility rests on the student, and to some degree, on the family of the student (who is, after all, a minor). Given that religious school is only three hours once a week (less than an hour for Hebrew and approximately another hour for Judaica), it is not reasonable to expect that a student can be taught enough there to be a competent, educated, literate Jewish person, prepared to be a Jewish adult, even after the maximum of seven years of thirty class sessions each year. That goal is more properly met by training and practice in the home, supplemented by regular attendance at services and in religious school. The question has been raised (again – this is probably a perennial issue) as to the purpose and value of religious school. Though I am clearly in favor of and support a maximal approach to religious school, and see it as training and preparation for life as a Jewish adult, I know not everyone shares my viewpoint. I am not intending to impose my vision on the community in this matter: I would much prefer an open, civil, and reasoned discussion of the philosophy and ideology for the religious school to occur periodically, leading to implementing a program that more accurately reflects the values and ideals of the community, than to have unspoken concerns and dissatisfactions harbored within our community, leading to resentments, disaffection, and choices and actions that undercut whatever program has been put in place. This discussion must necessarily also focus on the policies and procedures for the religious school, and how religious school is connected to the celebration of a B’nai Mitzvah in the congregations. If the congregation does not believe that the approach taken as of today fits the goals it wishes to set as a community for its’ religious school, the entire religious school enterprise should be re-examined and re-evaluated in light of whatever the actual goals may be, the policies and procedures should be modified to reflect those goals, and the allocation of resources to the religious school (including the appropriate use of my time and that of the other teachers), should be discussed and given serious consideration, with an eye towards supporting the goals established. Cont’d. 

Youth Activities:Working with Sherri Alt, I have been continued to be involved in Shorty, the Youth Group, specifically focusing on the Confirmation program (for those who are post-B’nai Mitzvah). Shorty is intended to serve those from age 13 (post-seventh grade) to 18. The program was well accepted in past. We now have more than a ten active members. Given the demographics of our community, this is an excellent representation.  Funding seems to me a significant issue – these NFTY events, camp, and Israel trips are extremely expensive, and most families’ budgets will not support sending their children to many of these events. Camp and Israel are wonderful and meaningful experiences for most youth, but the costs are as high or higher than tuition at many private schools. My sense is, and all statistics show, that they are worth the cost, but many of our members cannot afford to send their children often, or, to the most expensive of these, at all. We will need to find a way to make sure that we can assist or cover costs for our members’ children to attend. This is an investment in the future. The THOI SHORTY Fundraising dinner and Youth Group Service at THOI is scheduled for January 11^th. It is one of the less painful ways we help to fund the operation of Shorty. I hope all of our congregants will come, or at least consider sending a donation to Shorty.  One change for this year that I am happy to have proposed at the joint calendar meeting last June (to which that group agreed, and later the board of each congregation subsequently adopted as part of the calendar), was that I should attend at least one of the NFTY Kallot (Reform Youth organization gatherings) our members attend with them, and also try to arrange to travel with our group to participate in at least one of their activities on the road. Consequently, I plan to join them for the Spring kallah this year in April of 2008, and I also plan to go with them to Williamsburg overnight at the beginning of June for their year-end activity. Of course, I plan to attend their meetings and local activities (IY”H, bli neder*).  [*roughly translated, with G-d’s help, but I offer no promises or vows]. J  Adult Education:In Adult Education, I offered two levels of Hebrew literacy (introduction for those needing to learn the Alefbet, and intermediate to practice reading and to gain vocabulary), a weekly Parashat Hashavuah (Torah Portion) study session, and a Jewish Lecture and Discussion series, which included such topics as the role of the Chevrah Kadishah, various Holidays, topics in basic Judaism, basic Jewish History, and some dabbling with the Talmud. I brought in as lecturers two congregants on the topics of security in Israel, and a Jewish view on energy and healing. I have moved from the Parashat Hashavuah model to a monthly Torah Lishmah structure. This is still a work in progress, and there may be more changes as time goes on. The goal is to find the interest level of our congregants, and the best approach to meet that interest.   I continue to actively work with several conversion candidates (at last count, I was meeting with six fairly regularly), and have a few more persons who have approached me with this intent, but whom I have not yet accepted as conversion candidates. I am working with our cadre of Torah and Haftarah readers, and meet regularly with some of them to practice and improve their skill set in that arena. I have two adult B’nai Mitzvah students with whom I am working regularly at this time. I am in the midst of teaching the 20 session Introduction to Judaism course. We started with 13, and after five sessions there are 11 students in that class, a record number in my experience here. Of those eleven, I anticipate that probably five are likely to become members of one or the other of the congregations after their process is completed (over the next two years). Several others will likely leave the area, either before completing the training, or shortly afterwards.  I have guest lectured or given presentations at MBC, EMU, JMU, Bridgewater College, and Stuart Hall, for a variety of courses, and for several Rotary Clubs and Church groups. I met with the JMU Hillel students on several occasions. I am teaching a class in Hebrew Scriptures at Mary Baldwin College as an adjunct instructor since the regular instructor resigned at the beginning of this academic year. I am serving as a mentor for a student in the Quest program at MBC. I have met with and advised JMU students on a number of occasions, and supported the JMU chapter of AEPi and Hillel as I am able.   Cont’d. 

College Students:I have spoken by telephone or met with students from various schools, including MBC, EMU, JMU, Bridgewater, BRCC, and W&L, most of whom are in one Religion or religious studies class or another that requires them to attend a service and/or interview a person of a faith not their own. Many of them have come to our services, if not to the Community Awareness Shabbat (which is generally too late to meet the requirements for their semester schedules).  Non-Jewish community members: I have made presentations to several churches and civic organizations and at various colleges and other schools, and been contacted numerous times, sometimes with questions, sometimes to ask for a speaker, or to attend services to observe. In that light, our Fall Community Awareness Shabbat was very well attended, with roughly 130 people present.  Peace Festival:I have been asked to work on a Peace Festival to take place on Sunday, January 13^th at 2-5 at Otterbein United Methodist Church in Harrisonburg. I am happy to tell you that Sarah Grove-Humphries has also agreed to help me with this project. The planning group includes representatives from several churches, the  mosque in Harrisonburg, some Kurdish families, FINISH UP HERE Training:I attended professional training sessions and conferences put on by the CCAR and the MAC.  I will also be attending the URJ Biennial later this month. In coming months, I will attend the CCAR Convention, the CCAR MAC regional conference, and probably two other rabbinic training and professional development programs. I hope to apply as a candidate for one of the available programs, either at the Institute for Jewish Spirituality (IJS), or at the Synagogues: Transformation and Renewal (STAR) Good to Great Rabbi or the Peer Executive Leadership program. These programs each require attending two workshops/retreats each year for one or two years, studying, taking on-line courses, working with mentors and peers, and generally improving skills and focusing on being more effective as a rabbi.  Tzedakah, Gemilut Chasidim, Tikkun Olam:I have continued to make disbursements and contributions to various groups and organizations I believe are worthy from the Rabbi’s Discretionary fund. When an acknowledgement is sent, I have passed it on so that there is some way of others knowing what is being done with the monies that are donated to the Discretionary fund while maintaining the maximum confidentiality when appropriate. All disbursements are reviewed with an individual who maintains confidentiality in order that there be accountability for my choices and to assure that I don’t run afoul of the IRS rules in dealing with this fund. In the last two years, I have encouraged our youth group to volunteer to work at the Volunteer Farm, an organization in Woodstock that uses donations and volunteer labor to plant, raise, harvest, and deliver fresh food to the Blue Ridge Area Food Bank. I hope that this will become a regular activity for the youth group, and perhaps for other members of the congregation as well.  Cont’d. 

Pastoral Care:I meet with numerous congregants privately to discuss concerns or issues in their lives, ranging over issues of personal matters, finances, health concerns, relationships, and issues of faith, loss, personal stress, relationships, employment, child rearing, marital issues, communal concerns, and interfaith issues. I am extremely careful and seek to maintain the confidentiality of what I am privileged to hear and learn. In short, I have provided pastoral counseling as needed, when asked (and occasionally when I see a need I will offer), to the limit of my ability and training. I have referred congregants to experts for those things beyond my skills and knowledge as I recognize that to be the case.  The call for this seems to be steady through the year, and increasing periodically for a period of time. This has proven to be a frequently requested service, and a significant focus in my rabbinate. Related to this area, I was delighted to work with congregants from both congregations to initiate the Chevrah Kadishah (holy society) group this year. This group now exists, and stands prepared to work with the funeral directors in the area to provide the service of Taharah (ritual washing and dressing of the deceased). If possible, we may at some point choose to expand to also provide the service of Shmirat Haguf (watching or guarding the body), as well as Leviyat Hametim (accompanying the deceased). These services are a deeply meaningful and important gift that can be offered to those who have passed on and their families by our community. More work and preparation needs to be done for this group to be fully trained, for the instruction books to be completed, and to determine what and how and under which conditions we can take on these various responsibilities, but our community is fortunate to have people who wish to fulfill this mitzvah (obligation) on our behalf.   Interfaith:IFA:I continue as a member of the Harrisonburg Interfaith Association, though I have been prevented from attending the last several of the monthly meetings by scheduling conflicts.   I have been working to build up my network of members of the clergy in Staunton and Augusta County. I am doing so by working with groups such as the Community Health Forum and Augusta Medical Center, where I can meet these persons, and build connections and rapport, so we can work together on specific projects at some point in the future. This is part of how I am establishing contacts for the Shorty youth group to follow up, and creating avenues to invite our larger community members to join us for such events as the Community Awareness Shabbat and Holocaust Education programs. I think that the turnout for the last Community Awareness Shabbat would lead to the conclusion that this approach is worth pursuing.  Interfaith Dialogue:I conducted an abbreviated version of the Open Doors, Open Mi