Thursday, March 15, 2018

Let Us Learn in Order to Do; Let Us Teach, So They Will Act - April 2018



A Nurturing Congregation

Listen, my child, to the mussar of your father, and do not turn away from the torah of your mother. Proverbs 1:8

We have heard a lot of commentary of the students who have risen to activism following the shooting in Parkland, Florida. People have said they are not really students, that they are actors, that they are trained.

They are not actors. They ARE trained - and many of them are ours. It is important to share this fact, because we can be proud of them, whether or not we share their political views. What they are doing is what we have hoped they would do; what we have trained them to do.

Several of the students speaking out are Reform Movement children. They grew up in our camps (URJ Camp Coleman) or are active members of their NFTY region. They have become Bar or Bat Mitzvah in Reform congregations. Several of the students were recently at a training for select first and second year camp staff, where they shared their experience - not the speeches they give to the general public, but the feelings they could express to their friends and peers. Zoe Turner, finishing up her term as Social Action Vice President in the STR region, was elected national Social Action VP soon after the shooting. The next week, she headed up to Tallahassee to speak with her legislators about what needed to be done. You can read about it here - https://nfty.org/2018/02/22/nfty-teens-made-history-tallahassee-not-done-yet/ When Zoe spoke - and said to a Florida legislator - It is not your job to finish the task, but you are not free to desist from it, she carried the words of our tradition in Pirke Avot into the world we live; she used the experience she gained in our Reform youth movement. When she and her peers needed more training, they reached out to the Religious Action Center, where many of them had attended a L’taken weekend. Zoe will be bringing this experience and this energy to our national movement, and we are lucky to have her.

The URJ - as an organization, mobilizing the Religious Action Center, and the Youth Department - decided soon after the shooting that the most important thing that we could do would be to support our youth and let them lead. On Saturday March 24th, as students gather all over the country, Reform synagogues in Washington, DC will have opened their doors and floors to marchers. The RAC will have rented a space, nearby the rally, for our youth leaders to lead a Shabbat morning service to imbue the event with Jewish meaning, and to bring our community support and strength.

We at Temple Sholom have done our part as well. Each of our B’nei Mitzvah students is asked to complete not only 13 “mitzvah” hours, but also to complete a mitzvah project. The goal of this project, as we tell parents and students, is that if they see something wrong with the world, they should not need to find someone else who is fixing the problem, but they should feel that they can themselves begin to set things right. We so regret that these Parkland students need to speak up on this issue, but we are so proud that we taught them how to speak up and gave them the experience and courage to do so.

This nurturing of our children is the best that we can do as a congregation. Whether we will it or not, they will be what carries on the world that we leave for them, and the Judaism that we hope will continue. If we can give them the Jewish tools to make the world better not just for themselves, but for generations to come, then we have truly understood what it means to pass on the covenant we received at Mount Sinai. They are trained - by our Jewish teaching - and if they are actors, they are acting in the world through tikkun olam.

Rabbi Joel N. Abraham

Thursday, March 1, 2018

I'm Glad to (Re)Meet You - March 2018

A Welcoming Congregation

A house is built by wisdom, and dedicated with understanding - Proverbs 24:3

1925 Lake Street is not where Temple Sholom began. When I came to the congregation, we were located in Plainfield in a large building that had been built and added to over the congregation’s first nine decades. The sanctuary and social hall were huge. We had sixteen classrooms and a chapel in a separate wing. On most days, when it was just me and the office staff in the building, it felt deserted.

When I first came to Temple Sholom in 1999, we considered ourselves a welcoming congregation. Now every congregation thinks it is warm and welcoming - no one advertises themselves as cold and impersonal. Yet, at the oneg after Shabbat services, congregants only talked to the people that they already knew. They were embarrassed to introduce themselves to others, because they were afraid the person they thought might be there for the first time, was really a long-time member. We wanted to be welcoming; we were just afraid. The sad proof of this fact was when an African-American woman came to services, everyone “knew” she was not a member, and she was inundated with well-meaning welcome.

In 2003, the congregation made the leap of faith to sell our building and set up temporary quarters at the Fanwood Presbyterian Church. We told ourselves that we were more than a building; that our congregation was a community. That truth was proved by the fact that we grew as a congregation while in exile, and were able to summon the energy and resources to build our new home in Scotch Plains.

This house we now live in was built by wisdom. The wisdom was that the life our congregation was in knowing who we are and finding a way to share that with others. If we wanted to be a warm and haimische congregation, then it was not enough just to say it, we had to do it as well. We trained ourselves to say hello to people at our oneg shabbat - whether we thought we knew them or not. We changed our fundraisers from an expensive yearly gala, accessible only by a few, to many, smaller, more social events. (We talked about putting the “fun” in fundraising.) We moved our worship space into a semi-circle. We brought down the height of the bimah. We made our worship more accessible. Even our Hebrew school moved to an open classroom model.

This house we live in now was dedicated with understanding. The gift of a new building means we had to meet all ADA building codes, without the added expense of retrofitting. Our inclusion committee led the way in helping us understand what it meant to be welcoming to all - no door jambs to stumble over, a hearing loop to listen, bathroom facilities for any identity, and a religious school tailored for each of our students. We no longer see ourselves as one particular hair color or ethnic last name, but we run the gamut of many of the heritages that we find in our United States.

Have we become a welcoming congregation? Yes. Can we do more? Absolutely. Last month I was on a call that addressed some of the issues that Jews of color feel. One participant said that she did not want to feel welcomed into a synagogue, as if she were a guest, but rather made to feel at home, because she was a part of the family.

How do we move from welcoming the stranger as a guest to making them feel at home? Start with yourself. Rather than ask someone who they are, tell them who you are; introduce yourself. It is not easy to remember all of the 260 families in the congregation. If you cannot remember someone else’s name, it is not hard to imagine that they may have forgotten yours as well. Beyond that - be accepting and forgiving. Do not be indignant if the person you sat next to for four hours on Yom Kippur does not remember. Be glad they are reaching out again to have a conversation.

How do we build our congregation? How do we strengthen our community? By realizing the wisdom that it takes work every day, and the understanding that we all have to try to connect with each other.

Rabbi Joel N. Abraham