5772 Rosh Hashanah Sermon
Your Community Center by Julie Strothman
Shana Tovah. I am honored to have this opportunity to speak to you all, and very honored to serve as Shir Heharim’s president.
Eight years ago my family drove to North Carolina to see my in-laws. While we were there, my grandmother, of blessed memory, had to have emergency pancreatic surgery in Gainesville Florida. So I left my family in North Carolina and flew down to Gainesville to be there with her and my grandfather. She had a tough recovery, so we were at the hospital for four days after the surgery—Grammy was not a quiet person, and the nurses and doctors quickly became very familiar with her directions and her humor. The night before she was to be released, I could not imagine my grandfather caring for her over the 5-hour drive back to Boynton Beach. She was in rough shape, he was beleaguered, and frankly even if they were both feeling great, that seemed an absurdly long drive for him. But if I drove them, I wouldn't be back to North Carolina in time for my family's return drive North—Stuart would be driving the whole way, with our 4-, 6-, and 12-year olds. Stuart was up for it, but I was worried about that drive and about the girls being anxious with me not coming back, and I just could not figure out what to do. I thought about calling my mom for advice, but I was pretty sure she'd tell me to go back to my family, because that would be best for me and for the kids and Stuart. I thought of a couple of friends I could ask, but I was pretty sure I could predict their different biases, and that wasn't what I wanted. So I called Faith. (For those of you who don't know, Faith is one of the earliest members of BAJC, and very much a mom or grandmother to us all.) I called Faith because I couldn't predict what she would say, and because I knew it would be based on the right thing to do. Faith told me my family would be fine and to help my grandparents, and I was relieved because I knew this was the ethically right choice.
A friend once told me that a parent's job is to provide the banks of the river, so that kids can freely and safely make their own way through. Judaism is a lot like the banks of the river for me. When I need help making good choices, the words of our prayer book and of Torah, and the cyclical rituals of our lives provide time to pause and they offer guidance. I called Faith because we share an ethical compass that resonates in my core.
There is much I love about Judaism, especially the Jewish wisdom that repetition is grounding: the repetition of the cycles of the week, of the months, and of the years. We need to be grounded in the meditative repetition of prayer. I rely on things like regularly reading the silent prayer to avoid lashon horah (the evil tongue)—in our secular lives there is so much temptation to speak ill of others. Jewish wisdom recognizes flawed human tendencies, and teaches us that we need reminders to do the right thing. As a kid, I was put off by the endless repetition of services. Now I crave that grounding and meditation. I especially love the Jewish wisdom that we need our people around us.
Here we all are for the High Holy days. We come here for the ancient haunting melodies and the sound of the shofar. We come here for communal prayer, along with Jews the world over. We are here for self-reflection, for cheshbon ha-nefesh (self-accounting). We could be at home, taking stock alone. But Jewish wisdom recognizes that we need to be in community to do this hard work of self-accounting. We need our people around us. Jewish wisdom suggests we visit the graves of our loved ones before Rosh Hashanah—we need all of our people around us while we reckon with committing to our best selves—both as a support and as a reminder that when we break mitzvot we harm our entire community and dishonor the memory of our loved ones. We are witnesses for each other; we are part of each other's bond of life.
The night before Tropical Storm Irene hit, I was at our Israeli Film and Food Festival event on Flat Street. I spent time talking with BAJC member Yael Cohn. Yael was thinking about how BAJC could be more of a community center for people. I'm embarrassed to admit that I was somewhat negative about the notion that people might think of BAJC as the central source of community in our lives—given the number of options people have when it comes to community—work, sports, social action, music, other arts, book clubs, and especially our towns. How is BAJC that has little in the way of staff or indoor space going to be the choice for people when they center themselves in a community? I've thought about it a lot since then.
The very next day, we were hit with Irene's destructive waters. This disaster forced us to turn, to change perspective, and to act. Emails and phone calls poured in, from our own community and from the greater community of Jews around the world, wanting to know who was okay and who needed help, wanting to know how we could be there for each other. We had a work group go out and help with clean up. People have been cooking for those who lost their homes. People brought food, batteries, boxes, dog crates, household goods, and much more for bringing to those recovering from the destruction. We received donations large and small, from people in this room, from family members and concerned individuals at a distance, and from congregations, including over $3000 from Ohavi Zedek Congregation in Burlington and $5000 from the Union for Reform Judaism. To date we've received over $10,500 in donations to families in need. We will distribute this money within our own community and to organizations that are helping those who suffered losses. Please let us know if you suffered damage and have related financial burdens. We have a committee that will be reviewing requests so we can get the money out to those in need.
Through all of this I saw the forceful reminder that it's not our physical space that determines whether BAJC can serve as our community center. The heart of Brattleboro Area Jewish Community is the people coming together—it is what makes us a community.
I realized that there are many, many examples of how we come together. For action like the response to Irene, and the response to recent violence in town, for tefilah (prayer), for learning, for sharing meals, for supporting each other in our celebrations and in our dark moments. I'd like to ask you each to think about how you will put our Brattleboro Area Jewish Community at the center of your lives in the coming year. For those of you who are visiting, think about your own Jewish communities. I'd love to hear about your communities.
Here, you have many options—you only need to read the newsletter and weekly emails for a list of opportunities—there are the rituals that imbue meaning in our lives, from eating in the sukkah to attending b'nai mitzvah services to being part of a shiva minyan when a community member loses a loved one. There are opportunities to attend events together—such as speakers at the Keene State College Cohen Center for Holocaust & Genocide Studies, the Yiddish Center for the Book, a sing-along Fiddler on the Roof showing. Participate in our Significant Jewish Books Club, even just for one book. Attend a Thursday morning minyan. Borrow movies from our outstanding large collection of Israeli films, gathered over five years of our Israeli Film and Food Festival.
I am most moved by the opportunities created by people who have a particular interest and look to fulfill and grow that interest through BAJC. If you love to garden, talk with Jackie, who has great vision and energy for the produce we could grow on our beautiful land and then share with the Drop-in Center. I hear Robin and Claire have a plan for gatherings of families with young children—pajamas and stories. You might cook and share dinner at the Morningside or Overflow Shelter, organized by Judy and Bobbe.
If you don't currently receive our emails, please let me know you'd like to sign up. If you do get the emails, read them to look for opportunities that interest you. Our weekly email currently goes to over 200 people. On average, 50% of those emails are opened. While I gather that's a relatively impressive response, I hope to hit 75% over the coming year, so please—open your email and see what's going on at BAJC. Check us out on Facebook—I feel a little silly saying that out loud at a Rosh Hashanah service, but for those of you who spend time on that site, and I know a lot of us do, it's a very easy way to connect and keep in touch with the people we don't see on a day-to-day basis.
We've re-started our monthly potluck suppers after Friday night service. If you live locally, please plan on coming to one in October, November, or December. I mean right now, choose one to attend. I want you to be there for a few reasons. For selfish reasons, it's just more fun when there are more people there, and they are potluck, so I get new ideas for what to cook at home. But more seriously, I want you there because we're all more likely to think of BAJC as our center when we grow our personal connections with each other, and casually over dinner makes that very easy. This last month, 11 people became members. I want you to attend the potluck suppers to welcome and get to know your new community members. If you are new, or you feel like you're on the periphery at BAJC, come to a service and supper. Let's spend time together.
As you make your commitments this week to the person you want to be, and how you want to show up in the world, I hope your Jewish community will be in your mind. We enrich each other's lives when we come together. And we need each other to be there when we want to be uplifted, when we are struggling through loss or fear, and when we need someone to call, to help us figure out the right thing to do.
On behalf of Shir Heharim’s Board of Trustees, and my family, Shana Tovah U'metukah, may you have a good and sweet year.
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