Rabbi's Column - Fall 2024 - Stop Yidn, What's that Sound?

 If one sounds a shofar into a pit, or into a cistern, or into a large jug, if they clearly heard the sound of the shofar, they have fulfilled their obligation; but if they heard the sound of an echo, they have not fulfilled their obligation. And similarly, if one was passing behind a synagogue,or their house was adjacent to the synagogue, and they heard the sound of the shofar or the sound of the Scroll of Esther being read, if they focused their heart, they have fulfilled their obligation; but if not, they have not fulfilled their obligation. Mishnah Rosh haShanah 3:7

For many years, the one thing that a congregation could be sure of was that pretty much everyone in the congregation would show up at least twice a year - for the High HolyDays of Rosh haShanah and Yom Kippur.  Whether or not someone was a Shabbat regular, or came to services for the various other holidays, there was still a sense that there were “High” HolyDays - somehow more important, or at least more crucial not to  miss.

Perhaps the reason was the theme of those HolyDays - which are the bookends for the ten days of repentance.  Jewish tradition teaches that as we celebrate a new year, we also take time to review the old year - for the purpose of t’shuvah - the process by which we reflect on our past behavior, make amends, and resolve to do better going forward.  Then, to seal it all, we afflict ourselves by fasting on Yom Kippur and receive atonement as the sun sets.  Catholicism has confession - and one can repent and be absolved on a regular basis.  Other religions have different methods of atonement, and one can, of course, engage in t’shuvah at any time of the year.  But, as a backstop, to make sure that we take time to catch anything that we may have missed on a regular basis, there is our once-yearly High HolyDays.

The Sages of old taught that there was one unique mitzvah for Rosh haShanah - and that was to hear the sound of the shofar.  That seems simple enough. For Chanukah, we light a menorah for eight nights. For Sukkot, we put up a booth. For Pesach, we abstain from leavened foods for a week (and have a seder). But, as is explicated in the quote above, just by chance hearing the shofar is not enough.  If you make the time to go to the synagogue, and you hear the shofar there, it seems that is ok.  I guess the hope is that, while you are stuck in the pews, some of the other stuff will sink in.  But, if you just hear the shofar in passing - as an echo, or while you are walking down the street nearby, it does not count - unless you have the right intent.  

The shofar is a reminder: Not just a celebration that we have made it through another year (and can start writing 5785 on our checks), but that we have to pause, take time to reflect, and decide consciously how we want to go forward. Have we done everything in the right way that we wanted to?  Have we gotten caught up in the day to day and forgotten about the long-term, about the deeper parts, about meaning and purpose?  The shofar is our wake-up call - to shake us out of our day-to-day slumber; a splash of cold water in the face.

This year, let us resolve not only to hear the sound of the shofar, but to focus our hearts as well.  Let us take the time to stop, to reflect, and then, and only then, can we go forward with (re)new(ed) purpose and truly celebrate a New Year.

L’shanah tovah tikateivu - may we take the time to write ourselves for a good new year.

Rabbi’s Column - March/April 2024 - Time to Tell Stories

You shall explain to your child, on that day [Pesach] Ex, 13:8

Consequently, these days [Purim] are recalled and observed in every generation: by every family, every province, and every city.  Esther 9:28

We are entering a season of Jewish storytelling.  Two holidays, a month apart, recall two different miraculous deliverances of our ancestors.  The first is described as more humorous - the holiday of Purim, when we remember our people almost being destroyed by the evil Haman and the way that Esther and Mordechai turned the tables and saved the Jews. We dress up in costumes; we send gifts of food (mishoach manot); we are commanded to eat and drink; and, of course, we read the story in the megillah.  A month later, we think we are more serious: we clean all the chametz out of our homes; we invite over friends and family; we have a special festive meal - the seder (which also has requirements of wine), and, or course, we tell the story in our haggadah. (Although Passover may seem the more serious holyday, there is as much laughter around the seder table as there is at the megillah reading, for many families.)

A focus of both these holydays, however, is the story that we have to tell.  In some ways, both stories are similar: The Jewish people are in danger.  A member of the community (Esther/Moses) needs to step up and speak to the ruler (Ahasverus/Pharoah) to rescue our people.  They each need a helper (Mordechai/Aaron). Things end up worse before they get better. In the end, however, there is a delivery so remarkable, that we write it down and put it on our yearly Jewish calendar to celebrate for all time.

There is also a principal difference between the two stories.  In the Passover story, God acts directly - bringing Moses back from exile, telling him what to say, creating miracles - signs and portents. In the Esther story, God is not mentioned at all.  (For this reason, the Sages almost decided not to include this book in the Bible.) Instead, it is solely human action that makes the difference- although there are a lot of fortunate coincidences in the story.

We also have a story to tell about our congregation - Temple Sholom.  We have been around for over a century - moving from North Plainfield to Plainfield to Fanwood to our current home in Scotch Plains.  There have been many ups and downs over those years - many people who have come and gone.  I like to think of our congregation as the lucky little congregation that could.  We were told that we could not survive a move out of our building in Plainfield, that we could not last as guests in a church, or that we could never raise enough money to build a new building - and, just barely, we did all these things.  Once again, like congregations - Jewish or not - all over, we are facing challenges: challenges not just about our finances, but about our community and our activities.  We were down an administrator - but we found Jill Brown. We are down a Director of Education, but our former Director, Michelle Shapiro Abraham, is helping while we find someone new.  Our leadership has been stepping up - all the way through COVID and the aftermath. But, we need the help of all of the members of our community - we need to tell OUR story, and we need to tell it loud.

We often contrast ourselves to other congregations - we are not them.  We need to tell our story with a positive spin. We are a small congregation, where everyone has the chance to know everyone else; where the only way to get a double-B’nei Mitzvah is if you bring your own twin or parent. We have wonderful social events - our Supper Club, Chili Cook-Off, and Casino Night - which are more about coming together as a community than raising money. Our congregants partner with clergy to create meaningful religious worship - whether our recent Jewish Disability Awareness and Inclusion Month service, which featured students going back 25 years; our Congregational Second Night Seder - prepared by congregants in our own kitchen; the beautiful Sukkah that we build together each year; our Potluck Shabbat Saturday morning services, or the thirteen year-olds showing how they can create “meaningful Jewish worship” as they become bet mitzvah. We support refugees, the homeless, families of transplant patients, other members of our community, and our family in Israel. Our youth groups throw a great Purim carnival for the younger children; and the younger children create a choir to sing at worship.  We are not a congregation where you can fall through the cracks. Instead, you will end up moving chairs, selling 50/50 tickets, figuring out how to maximize  your scrip contribution, or just joining with other congregants at a local restaurant for a quick meal that also fundraises for the Religious School.  We are a congregation where, when a former president and lifelong member dies, his Temple friends gather together to create a fund that will carry on his legacy of wisdom and leadership.

As we enter this season of Jewish storytelling, we encourage you to tell the story of our community as well. We are no less a link in the chain of Jewish tradition than Moses or Esther.  Let us find times to celebrate together, and to share that celebration with others - some of whom we have yet to meet.  Chagim s’meichim!