I’m not a sailor. My DNA plants me firmly on dry ground – somewhere around Lviv, Riga, or Minsk… the heartland of Ashkenazi Jews. Though I’m a lousy swimmer who prefers sand to surf, I somehow sense that I was on the water in a past life. The ocean’s imagery captures my imagination like nothing else.
During these High Holy Days, I felt like I was at the helm of a great vessel, steering through challenging waters. As we navigated through our sea of services, I held the wheel steady, feeling the profound responsibility of guiding my passengers to their destination. The timing of prayers, stories, and melodies had to be just right. Like precious cargo, we balanced cherished traditional prayers that echo High Holy Days past with fresh melodies that brought new energy and excitement. We shared words of hope and joy while not shying away from moments of reflection and solemnity.
Now at port, watching everyone disembark, I wonder: Are they smiling? Was this a meaningful journey? And I feel overwhelming pride and love. We made it! Welcome to our port of call: 5785!
I hope this voyage moved you as much as it moved me. Our cantor, Marcie Jonas, was magnificent – her voice, energy, and gentle neshumah (soul) helped us glide smoothly across the waves. Jamie Saltman, our maestro, accompanied all of us with spirit and heart. In fact, the entire staff helped to make this voyage so smooth.
Back on land, Sukkot greeted us with extraordinary weather – a divine gift for this outdoor observance. We experienced spring’s warmth painted with autumn’s colors. What a blessing to see our entire congregation, from most senior to little ones in the ELC, enter the sukkah and shake the lulav, acknowledging both the beauty and fragility of our world.
And now what? Well, now it’s time for everything else: learning together, sharing Shabbat, gathering for meals and celebrations, and caring for each other. Our temple community continues to do many things we’ve always done. But we don’t do much of it the way we used to.
We are constantly morphing as a community, and as we change, our practices evolve. We aim to be more responsive, more present. We want to anticipate the needs of our community and listen closely to the rhythms of our communal heart. We know the world often feels hostile and indifferent. That’s why we make TBA a place of warmth and safety where all are welcome. As I’ve frequently quoted and paraphrased from Bob Dylan, “Come on inside, we’ll give ya/shelter from the storm.
We’re on our voyage into 5785. With all of our travails, the burdens we carry on our backs, and the scary things happening around us, keep your eyes on the prize. The world has so much joy; let’s find it together.
Before Shabbat 