Hamakom yinachem etchem b’toch sha’ar av’lei tziyon v’yirushalayim
May God comfort you, amidst the rest of the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem
- traditional words of comfort said to mourners
Thank you.
Thank you to all of the Temple Sholom community - members, extended family, staff and others (even including the custodial staff of the Fanwood Presbyterian Church) who have reached out to me and to my family in this time of loss. It is one thing to preach about the importance of community in times of sorrow as well as in times of joy; it is another to experience that comfort first-hand.
Thank you to everyone - whether you were able to attend the funeral or shivah, or sent a card, a note or Facebook post, made a donation, helped to make sure the sanctuary was ready for the service, or who expressed your condolences when you saw me, or even sent a kind thought in our direction.
Thank you to those who shared your own wisdom about loss. Most commonly I have heard that while grief may lessen, memory continues each and every day.
Thank you to the congregation for allowing me to sit shivah for a week, to not have to lead services that Shabbat, and to be able to do or not do as I needed to in my grief. Thank you for providing for my continuing, segmented sabbatical. On the one hand, it was a gift to be able to help my family with all the mundane tasks necessary after a death. On the other hand, it was difficult to be separated from my community, when I was most in need of their support.
Thank you to the communities and congregations that welcomed me during shloshim. The first Shabbat was with our Temple. The second, I was at NFTY-GER’s Winter Kallah and, without any prompting from me, the service leader mentioned my father and all of his life’s work for youth (from his presidency of MAFTY in the 50’s, through his advising of JFTY in the 70’s and his work with HaBonim Dror in New Zealand). The third Shabbat, I went to Temple Emanu-El in Westfield, and when I asked Rabbi Sagal to mention my father, he said they had already been doing so. From the bimah, he noted that several of those leading the service that evening had been influenced by my father - from his welcome of Rabbi Sagal to his first pulpit in Connecticut, to officiating at one of the songleader’s wedding and advising the other in JFTY. The fourth Shabbat, Ezri and I went to Temple Emanu-El in Edison, missing the wonderful tribute service to Shelly Freedman. At each congregation, we were greeted by members, clergy, and active youth group members who had just been at Winter Kallah.\
The traditional words of comfort that we share with those in mourning, quoted above, may seem odd. The idea is to help the mourner place themselves back in the community. They may feel alone and without any companions. Truly, all mourning is unique, but just as each and every Jew once mourned the loss of Jerusalem and the land of Israel, we have all experienced loss. We all know the awkwardness of condolence, the attempt in words to share feelings of compassion. That feeling is what carries through.
Thank you again, in advance, for allowing me to share more memories of my father and what I have learned from him as I go forward. Truly, much of what I have shared in my rabbinate so far comes from lessons that I have learned from watching him as a rabbi. Now I find myself needing to make the footnotes explicit.
May the times be few and far between, but when you need such comfort, may you find such as I have found in this community.
Rabbi Abraham
