How Good and How Nice - Memories of Temple Sholom's Centennial - December 2013

הִנֵּה מַה-טּוֹב וּמַה-נָּעִים שֶׁבֶת אַחִים גַּם-יָחַד

Hinei mah tov, u’ma na’im, shevet achim gam yachad

How good it is, and how nice, to sit together as family. Psalm 133:1

Some memories of our Centennial Celebration...

At the pre-school party on Sunday, the Cantor served pizza and cake, and we all sang, “Happy Birthday to us”.

At the Religious School party, where we served 100th anniversary cake to every child in our religious school, two of our students insisted we sing, “Yom huledet sameach” - Happy Birthday, in Hebrew.

As we began the service on Friday night, and as we began havdalah at the Gala on Saturday, and even at the Religious School party, we asked our Temple Sholom families to stand up by generations, decade by decade, to show how our chain of tradition is a living one, each link a person.

The Schwartz’s, Dreiers, and Schuldenfreis sat together on Friday and Saturday and shared stories about their parents and grandparents - and then enjoyed their framed pictures of the old sanctuary in Plainfield.

Mark Nussenfeld, co-chair of the Centennial Committee, received a rousing ovation when he thanked all the spouses of our past presidents, who also gave so much to Temple Sholom.

There were so many Chai (18+ year), Double Chai (36+ year), and Jubilee (50+ year) members that they flowed off the bimah for their group aliyah.

There were bittersweet moments, as well -

Marty Schwartz remembering Rabbi Sidney Nathanson and his family’s close relationship with the Nathanson family.

Sharing with the family at her funeral, that we honored Thelma Umansky as a Jubilee member, and that the Temple office was filling up with Christmas presents for the families from Kings’ Daughters school in Plainfield - a mitzvah project started by Thelma’s relationship with Temple Sholom and the school.

The beautiful moment when our Cantor and Temple Sholom choir stopped by Center for Hope Hospice before the Founders’ Shabbat service to sing to Shelly Glaser-Freedman, and she mouthed the words along with her fellow choir members.

The service, put together by Cantor Sharlein and myself, with music and readings from across Temple Sholom’s worship history, with singing by our choir, and music by our Hava Nashira band, was appreciated not only by Temple members young and old, recent and long-term, but also by the family members visiting for the Bat Mitzvah.

Rabbi Daniel Freelander shared with us not only words of congratulations and challenge for our future, but sang a duet of his Shalom Rav with our Cantor and joined the choir for the anthem and closing song.

But, the greatest joy of all, was the proof of what Temple Sholom has been and continues to be - a place where people of all different ages, personal histories, backgrounds, and experiences can come together as a community, to share sorrows, and, on this occasion to celebrate as family.  How good, and how nice.

Thank you again - to Centennial Chairs Karyn Weingarten and Mark Nussenfeld, to all those involved in the various projects that made the weekend a success, and to all of you, as members of our Temple, who have brought us this far on our journey of a century and will continue to push us forward to our new home and our next century.

Rabbi Abraham

One Hundred Years - Let Us Rejoice and Be Glad - November 2013

Zeh hayom asa Adonai, nagilah v’nism’cha bo

This is the day that Adonai has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. - Psalm 118:24

One hundred years ago, the Jews gathered in Judge William Newcorn’s office, writing by hand their articles of incorporation might not have been able to imagine the Rabbi of their congregation punching plastic keys to make letters appear on a screen, sent through the air, printed from pictures, and then distributed in 250 exact duplicates to every member of the congregation that they were forming.

But they did imagine a congregation that was different from any other Jewish congregation in the area.

A congregation where they could feel comfortable as Americans, as community leaders, and as Jews; where they could invite their non-Jewish friends and proudly display their faith and commitment to the common goals of humanity.  They imagined a place where their children, and the children of other like-minded families, could learn about the values conveyed by Jewish text, the history of countless generations, and the ritual and worship that tied together Jews across time and space.  They imagined a warm community where they could meet socially, learn together, share joys and sorrows, and act together for the common good.  They imagined holidays spent together, celebrations of weddings, b’nei mitzvah, and confirmations - and even the occasional funeral.  They imagined - and built - a home for themselves and future generations.

They might not have imagined an open classroom Hebrew model or a service with the words in Hebrew and transliteration projected on a screen.  They might not have imagined a machine that called all the members of the congregation to share news of a family rejoicing at a birth, or mourning a loss.  They might not have imagined the congregation with the Torah scroll unrolled at Simchat Torah and seeing the whole of a years journey of study in their hands.  They may not have imagined women on the bimah reading Torah, leading prayer, or becoming Bat Mitzvah.  They may not have imagined Jews of all colors, backgrounds, sexual preferences, or family types all standing on our bimah for a group aliyah on the High HolyDays.  They may not have imagined the numbers of non-Jewish family members volunteering, attending services, learning with and without their children, serving on the Board of Trustees.  Many of the things that we do today, they may not have recognized.

But the spirit behind these activities, the mission that drives the congregation, the feeling of Temple Sholom, shined as brightly then as it does today.  We carry with us, in our temporary housing, the words that were written on the outside by the front entrance of our home in Plainfield and will be written on the front wall of our new home in Scotch Plains - “You know what is required of you, O human being: do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God.”  For one hundred years, we have strived to live up to those words.  We could do much worse then let them guide us into our next century.

We have not only survived one hundred years a Reform Jewish congregation - we have grown, and changed and thrived.  We take a moment now to celebrate, then we take up our responsibility again and carry Reform Judaism forward into the next generation.  Kein y’hi ratzon  - and so may it be.

Why I Take Prayer Seriously - October 2013

Why I Take Prayer Seriously – Rabbi’s Column – October 2013

The one who rises from prayer a better person, their prayer has been answered. Reform Prayerbook

        So, nu, Rabbi, I know that you must spend a lot of time praying, but it doesn’t work for me, so why should I bother?

Prayer Can’t Hurt - I suppose it is an easy enough statement to say that no one has ever been harmed by prayer.  I was challenged on this fact, however, when I began a discussion at the first t’fillah (prayer service) in our Hebrew School this year.  One of the students said that if we prayed for something bad to happen to someone else, and our prayer was answered, that would be harm.  The question brings up the idea of favoritism in prayer.  Does God really prefer one sports team over another, so that locker room prayer has an outcome on the score?  Or does God just keep a prayer meter running and, regardless of preference, whichever side prays the most, wins? A good answer is that we might keep our prayers to wishes that we can perform to our best ability, or that the team plays well together, or that we avoid injury.  Even those who believe in a personal God, who intervenes in daily events, can be uncomfortable with the idea that God’s actions are restricted by or predicated on the correct prayer being said in the correct way.  We are always comfortable if God would answer our prayers, but we often ignore the consequences to others, if our desires are fulfilled, or what happens to us, if someone else prays for something we thought we already had.

However, saying that prayer is not a bad thing is a rather tepid endorsement, and not the impetus for someone to immediately begin a prayerful practice.

Prayer Is Not Just about Talking to God – In Judaism, we do not do the best job of explaining some basic facts that differentiate prayer and the (perhaps) familiar prayer service.  There is a tradition of personal prayer in Judaism – with countless examples in our literature, but we do not teach it. Instead, we teach communal prayer, which is important, but is not the only type of prayer.  Personal prayers can be said at any time, by any person, in virtually any format – not necessarily even in words.  Communal prayers need to be said with others, and have a particular structure, wording, and timing.  The fact that we have both personal and communal prayer in Judaism teaches us that there is a reason for both.  Judaism considers it important to require the community to come together on a regular basis, not necessarily because it makes the prayer more efficacious, but because face to face contact is an important part of community.  There are vital parts of communal worship that let us know whether someone is in mourning, celebrating, or ill.  Then, because we are together, we can reach out and be there for each other.

Prayer Can Do Some Good - the word for prayer in Hebrew is hitpalel, a reflexive verb.  Good prayer is self-reflective.  Even if we are only asking for something we need, then we need to ask ourselves what we are missing.  Truly good prayer is an opportunity for us to tune out all the static in our lives and focus inward on where we are doing well, where we are not, and where we need help.  The answer to a prayer may be a clearer focus on what we need to do next.  It may be the strength or the insight to act rather than be acted upon.  It may be the silence that allows us to hear the cry of a person near to us.  

Prayer Is Necessary to a Balanced Life - At the High HolyDays, we spoke about punctuation in our lives - that pausing or stopping is necessary for us to appreciate what we have, rather than let it all flow by, unremarked.  What we in Judaism call prayer - is a time-out, a pause, a moment for meditation or appreciation.  How can we be grateful, if we do not take time to realize what we have?  How can we receive help, if we have not taken a moment to ask ourselves what we need?

Prayer Is Not Easy - More on that next month.

Something Old, Something New - August/September 2013

Hashiveinu Adonai, v’nashuvah. Chadeish yameinu k’kedem.

Cause us to turn, O God, and we will return.  Renew our days, as of old. - Lamentations 5:21 & Liturgy

Rosh haShanah is a time for celebration as well as self-reflection.  This year, Temple Sholom has much to celebrate - we mark our centennial year, beginning with our 100th High HolyDays as a congregation, and our new home is under construction in Scotch Plains.  If all goes according to plan, we will mark our one hundred and first Rosh haShanah in our new sanctuary.  As we look forward, we also look back.  One of the constant themes of Judaism is that we define ourselves by our history and the past is often our guide to the future.

During the month of Elul, leading up to the High HolyDays, we are supposed to look back over the past year.  We have one month to examine the past eleven, and determine where we have gone astray.  When we have acted poorly towards others, we are told to acknowledge what we have done wrong, seek out the person or persons we have wronged, offer our apology, and then do what is necessary to make things right.  Only after we have completed those steps, to their satisfaction, can we ask for atonement on Yom Kippur.

One month to repent and repair. One month to seek out all those people we have wronged, even those whose lives briefly intersected with our own.  Perhaps one of the lessons of repentance is to be constantly self-reflective, do as little wrong as possible, and then act quickly to repent.  However, we are all human; we do make mistakes; and all too often we forget in the pressing rush of our lives.

The Jewish calendar, which we will be studying this trimester, is made up of as many stops as gos.  Shabbat is a period marking the end of each week.  Holidays come at sundown, often at the time of the full moon, not conveniently on the nearest Monday to make a three-day weekend.  We think that we are masters of our own calendars, but usually we are dragged on from one appointment to the next, never pausing, never stopping.  To stop, we need to acknowledge something outside of ourselves, be it the holidays ordained by God in the Torah, or kept by the custom of our community.  If we allow the Jewish calendar to be our guide, we may find that being forced to stop and reflect can truly bring the distinction of holiness to our time.

Beginning this Rosh haShanah, let us resolve to take time - time to celebrate, time to rest, time to reflect, time to be together.  Our calendar claims to date back almost six thousand years, to our ancestors’ perceived beginning of time.  Though God took the first Shabbat on day seven, it was another few millennia before our ancestors received the memo - at Mount Sinai.  Since then, we have marked the weeks by resting on Shabbat, the seasons by celebrating harvests at Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkot, and the years at Rosh haShanah and Yom Kippur.  This repeating cycle is the heartbeat of our Judaism, the pulse and flow of our history and our generational legacy.  We mark these moments together as the sun sets around the world, and across time linking our distant ancestors with our many times descendants.

The Torah, and our tradition, tell us how to mark time - that is how, as in the verse above, we say that God causes us to turn.  However, unless we continue to turn ourselves, we cannot take joy in our rest; we cannot reset our clocks and renew our days.  As in all things, we are in partnership with God.  We imagine what God wants of us, but we still need to carry it out.

L’shanah tovah v’chadashah - a good and new year, to celebrate together each and every moment - of our centennial, our new Temple home, and the lives of our community.

A Good Year, in Spite of It All - June 2013

Zeh hayom asah Adonai, nagilah v’nism’chah bo.

This is the day that Adonai has made, let us rejoice and be happy in it.    - Psalm 118:24

This verse, which Hebrew Union College– Jewish Institute of Religion students knew as Dr. Paul Steinberg’s favorite phrase,  is read as part of Hallel on every holiday service. The verse extols us to find the time to rejoice and be happy in the moments that we are in—because they are special, and because we are experiencing them.

I will admit that I, and other people in the office, looked at this past year with more dread then anticipation.  We were approaching not only a banner year for the number of B’nei Mitzvah celebrations—but a year that doubled our usual average—with a child of the congregation marking a Bar or Bat Mitzvah virtually every weekend from  Labor Day through the end of June, with only a few breaks for Jewish holidays or holiday weekends.  One of the things that we pride ourselves for at Temple Sholom is the fact that (barring twins), we celebrate only one member of our congregation becoming Bar or Bat Mitzvah each Shabbat.

In truth, we were pushed beyond our capabilities.  Despite the yeoman-like efforts of our office manager, Barbara Cooke, and our Fellowship chair and Bar/Bat Mitzvah coordinator, Dani Schwab, we’re still only a small congregation with one full-time employee.  We were blessed to bring back Cantor Sharlein in a limited-service position, but even if we’d employed her full-time, it was a lot of work, with a new student added every week.

We had to make some changes, often on the fly, in our cherished traditions.  Not every student was invited or attended every classmates’ simcha –and we will have to work hard to re-connect that community in the years to come.  Some services were in the chapel, some in the sanctuary, some at the JCC—and one service had over 400 attendees (ok, that was my daughter—thank you again to those who were able to join us and to all of you who have shared in our simcha.  Please save the date for Ezri on 6/18/16.).  We were constantly printing more prayerbooks, and we discovered that we can actually fit over 200 people, almost comfortably, in our chapel.

All in all, despite the challenges and the difficulties, I can now look back (almost) on the year and see something quite wondrous.  Even when we had to contend with a 5K race cutting off all access to our services, each and every Bar or Bat Mitzvah shone.  Just about every family was able to focus on the moment and celebrate, with their friends, their family, and their congregation, and, gradually, the nervous and worried grins on parents’ faces became smiles of pure joy.  This was indeed the day that Adonai had made, and they were there to rejoice in it.

I consider it a privilege to be able to celebrate these moments with you, my congregational family, whether (as I now have been), the proud parent watching my child on the bimah, or the proud Rabbi standing in front of the Ark with your child, passing on the millennia old blessing of our tradition.  This crazy, chaotic year has taught me that, no matter how many times I go through it, or whether one week seems to blend into the next, each child, each family stands out in their own uniqueness.

As I tell your children, I begin to get to  know them as they become Bar or Bat Mitzvah, as we work on their sermons and prepare for their services.  In the years that come after, as I teach them in JU, as we travel together to Europe, I not only get to know them better, but get to share with you the joy of watching them grow and mature.

These are the days that Adonai has made, and it is up to us to notice—to take joy and happiness in the moment.  These are the moments that we treasure and store up to shine a light for us when times may turn a little dark.  Thank you for sharing these moments with me and with each other—as part of the family of Temple Sholom.

Telling Our History in the First Person - May 2013

And you will tell the story to your child on that day, saying, “This is because of what Adonai did for me, in rescuing me from Egypt.” - Exodus 13:8

Early in April, I travelled to Central Europe with the nine members of our Confirmation class and chaperone Lynda Goldshein.  For me, this is the thirteenth time that I have been privileged to take this trip.  When I interviewed at Temple Sholom, I knew how important this trip was to the congregation, as it rated a question in my interview and was one of the two items featured on the Temple website.  Each year, I have discovered anew the importance of this trip, not only to the students who take the trip, but to the chaperones, those we visit, and to the congregation as a whole.  I encourage you to attend our Shavuot evening service, on Tuesday, May 14th at 7pm.  Our new confirmands will lead the service and share what they have learned here at the Temple and from their travels, as they stand to take their place in shalshelet hakabbalah - the chain of Jewish tradition.

The trip is nine days.  We leave the first Saturday after Pesach ends and return the next Sunday.  We have visited Warsaw and Prague, but more recently Berlin, Krakow and Budapest.  The students prepare for the trip by learning about Jewish choices throughout history - going back to Abraham’s father Terach, through the destruction of the Temple, the Middle Ages, the Enlightenment, and the shtetl.  In Europe, they learn first-hand not only about the terrible destruction of the European Jewish community in the Holocaust, but the two-thousand years of history of European Jewry that came first, and the struggles of the contemporary European Jewish community.  Ask any current or former student about the highlights of the trip, and the answers may surprise you.  Some will talk about the beauty of Krakow.  Others about the service that we hold to say kaddish by the ruined crematoria in Birkenau (Auschwitz II).  A few will talk about the Stumbling Stones scattered in the streets of Berlin, each one marking a Jew who was taken from their home and later perished in the Shoah.  Many will tell you about our Shabbat evening in Budapest, where we participate in a Hebrew/English/Hungarian service with our sister congregation - Szim Salom, who then treat us to Shabbat dinner, and a spirited song session.  They will all talk about the pierogies and the unique experiences they shared with their classmates.  (...and most of them will refer to the trip in a college application essay.) The trip, started by Rabbi Goldman, still creates a life-long impact in those who are able to participate.  A debt of gratitude is owed to the Temple for nurturing this trip, all those who have donated to the Confirmation Scholarship funds and participated in class fundraisers, and especially to those chaperones who have given of their time, their resources, and themselves to take time away from work and family to travel with teenagers.

The trip is different each year, even when we visit the same locations with the same guides.  Each class brings its own character and takes away something different.  However, there is also a profound change happening in our Jewish community, and a new responsibility is falling on the shoulders of our Confirmands.  Our congregation has once again taken the lead, through our dedicated Yom haShoah committee, in not only commemorating the Holocaust, but working hard to provide an opportunity for all of us to hear directly the voices of survivors.  Yet, each year, there are less and less of those voices to hear.  We are in a similar situation as our Israelite ancestors in the wilderness - the generation that witnessed the events of the Exodus had passed on; how could we carry on the immediate message of eyewitness accounts?

We are commanded, first in the citation above from the first seder while we are still in Egypt, to retell the story each year, and to tell it from the voice of personal experience.  Our Confirmation students, each year, share that they may have learned before about the Holocaust, and may have been deeply moved by the facts, but being present - at the House of the Wannsee Conference in Berlin, at Sachsenhausen, in the ghetto in Krakow, at Auschwitz/Birkenau, at the spot where the Shoe Memorial marks the Arrow Cross murders along the Danube - is an altogether different experience.  Beginning with their Confirmation service (Erev Shavuot - 14 May), they begin to retell this story of what happened to them - as first-hand witnesses. In doing so, they join our chain of Jewish tradition in a special way - telling their accounts of their lives - of their own Exodus, of their own Shoah. In this way, we will never forget; in this way, we will pass on our stories and ourselves, from generation to generation.

Rabbi Joel N. Abraham

T'shuvah - April 2013

T’shuvah is one of the most important acts in Judaism. The idea that one can turn back to the right path, seek forgiveness, and do better, is what makes Judaism attainable and realistic, rather than an unreachable ideal.

T’shuvah (repentance) is also one of the hardest acts for us to do.  We are all afraid to admit our wrongdoings; to let others know that we make mistakes.  We are embarrassed, even when we know we need to make amends.

In the past few months, I committed a grave chet (sin).  I was not there for a congregational family who relied upon me, as their rabbi, for support in a time of crisis.  By not being there, I not only failed to provide comfort, but also caused them great pain and anguish.  For this I am truly sorry. As I realized the pain that I had caused, I consulted with rabbinic and other mentors about what I could do.  I know that there is little I can do to erase that pain, but it is my responsibility, if I am to hold myself up to the ideals that I profess and teach from the bimah, to engage in the Jewish process of t’shuvah.  The first stage of t’shuvah is admitting the chet (sin).  The second stage of t’shuvah is to spend the time and effort needed in order to do what I can to make things right, and I have already made steps in that attempt.

The next stages of t’shuvah (receiving forgiveness from the ones I have wronged, and receiving atonement) are between me and the family involved.  However, there is a final stage of t’shuvah which relates to the rest of the congregation as well.  The final stage of t’shuvah is to be in the same position again, and not to commit the same chet.  If I truly make t’shuvah, if I want to live up to how both you, as a congregation, and I, as your rabbi, perceive my role, I need to make concrete steps to do better in the future.  I freely admit, that is is not the first time that I have been there for a family in need, and it pains me that this is so.  What then can I do to not only be there in the future, but to restore the trust of my congregation?

The first thing is that I need to get out of the office more - and make those calls and visits.  When I was at the CCAR conference in Los Angeles, I met with a Rabbinic coach who gave me some advice and helped me refine my next steps.  I have also discussed this process with the Temple President and 1st Vice President, and shared it with the Board of Trustees.  I also felt that I should share it with you, the congregation, through this column.

My role as rabbi is to be there for you, as congregants.  On my part, I will try to reach out to congregants whom I have not seen recently - through phone calls, and then follow up, if desired, with visits.  On your part, I would ask that you reach out to me.  Please let me know if you are sick or in need of a call or visit, or if you know of someone who is in need of such a visit.  Any information that you share with me is confidential.  Indeed, I will not share your name with the Caring Committee, or put it on the Mi Shebeirach list, unless I have asked you first (or you have notified the Temple office).  I will keep a log of such requests, calls, and visits to be shared with the Temple leadership - the fact of the visits, not the content of the conversations.

I hope that it will not come to this, but if I do not respond in what you consider to be a timely manner, please hold me accountable.  If you have asked for a call or visit, and I have not responded, it is my error, but please call or write again.  Let me know that this is your second attempt.  If I then do not respond as you would wish or expect, please contact the Temple president.  As a congregant, you have a right to accountability and to expect the reasonable services of your rabbi and congregation.

For some, I have breached the trust between Rabbi and congregant, and I know that this rift will take a long time to heal.  I am committed, through the process of t’shuvah, to heal that rift.  I, humbly, ask for your help in this endeavor - please let me know what I am doing right, and when I am failing to live up to your expectations.  Only then I can I hope to move forward and serve you, my congregation, in the way to which I aspire and that you deserve.