Sunday, April 3, 2016

Jewish Stories #6 - Meeting at the Holy Spot in the Middle - April/May 2016

There is a legend, not as old as perhaps it should be, about how the site for the Temple in Jerusalem was chosen from among all other mountains.  The story tells of two brothers -  one, married with a large family; and the other, single - who lived on either side of a mountain in what would one day be Jerusalem.  One year, when the harvest was perhaps not so abundant as usual, the single brother got to thinking about his married brother.  He realized that his brother had so many mouths to feed in his family, that this harvest might seem even more scant.  So, in the middle of the night, he gathered up some of his grain, and headed, in the dark, over to his brother’s granary, with the intent of leaving his gift in secret.  On that same night, the married brother reasoned to himself that his unmarried brother had no one else to help him tend his land, or bring in his harvest.  Therefore, the single brother would have even less of a harvest and find it more difficult to survive.  So, the married brother loaded up his arms with grain, with the intent of leaving it secretly in his single brother’s granary.  The night was dark, and the brothers made their way carefully over the mountain.  Just as they each reached the summit, they ran smack into each other.  They looked at the grain in each other’s arms and realized what was going on.  They dropped their bundles, and embraced.  The legend says that, because of the great and selfless love of these brothers, God chose to put the Temple and the holiest of holies on that spot.


As our Board and Temple leadership introduce a new concept of how to support and maintain our synagogue, they are looking at what makes up our community of choice.  The reality, that we all know, is that no one, in this day and age, is forced to be a member of a synagogue.  Unlike other countries, where public monies support religious institutions, based on the number of adherents who so identify in the general population, churches and synagogues and mosques and temples are supported by the voluntary giving of their members and supporters.  Not just by the giving of money, but by the time, presence, and hands-on work offered by those members.  One of the things that we are thinking about is the why.  Why should it be that people should give of themselves for a place they do not have to belong to?  What is it about this congregation that is worth our love and our toil?


The story of the two brothers can serve as an ideal for how we view Temple Sholom.  We can see that the brothers are not asking what they get out of the harvest, but worrying about what the other will have or lack.  Once they have reached that level of compassion, they then pick themselves up and do something to meet that need - not publicly, not in a way that would embarrass the other, but quietly, and without fanfare.


There is a reason that we have come together in this holy place to build (and re-build) Temple Sholom.  The reason is the community that we have built together, over the last century, and that we imagine into the next century.  We want a place where we know that we are taken care of, where we trust that others will consider our needs, even as we consider theirs.  We want a place where we may even enjoy spending time with the people that we do not know yet, because we know that we share the same values of community.

We meet not in our own homes, but in a place which we have chosen together - a place that may not perfectly fit exactly what we want, but is stronger because it is a balance of what we all need.  Temple Sholom is not the dream of one individual; it is the collective vision of all of us.  We meet together, with an armload of grain, in the dark of night, on top of a mountain, and we find the care and concern that we need.  We may not embrace every time we meet, but we feel the holiness of this space - the sacred meeting place of our people.