Sweet Beginings
07/12/2024 02:06:24 PM
Al had’vash v’al haoketz, al hamar v’hamatok (the honey and the sting, the bitter and the sweet). So begins Al Kol Eileh, my favorite song of Israeli songwriter Naomi Shemar (z”l). We all understand from our own life experiences the need to navigate these opposing forces on a regular basis. At Temple Sinai we will contend with these forces as a community as we bid farewell to Rabbi Debbi Till on June 30th and welcome Rabbi Or Zohar on July 1st.
We welcomed Rabbi Till into our congregation in 2015, and have been blessed by her grace and wisdom ever since. She has gifted us with engaging sermons, thoughtful teaching, heartfelt pastoral care, loving eulogies for our departed friends and a friendly, cheerful smile for all who approach her. We will surely miss her, but wish her all good things in the future across the northern border, and hope that she will come back to visit.
On the sweet side of things, we are excited and delighted to welcome Rabbi Or Zohar and his family to Temple Sinai. Hopefully, you have read about him in previous bulletins and perhaps had an opportunity for a brief conversation with Rabbi Zohar when he visited this past December. Please take the opportunity to welcome Rabbi Zohar at his first service with us on July 5th at 6PM, and enjoy a special oneg afterwards. We are planning many opportunities to meet the Zohars so please be sure to pay attention to the weekly Snippets online, or visit tsinai.org/rabbizohar.
Not quite so dramatic is the changing of the guard in Temple leadership. Jamie Spiller has held the presidential gavel for the past three years - the first two alongside his Co-President Renee Brownstein. Remarkably he has kept this ship afloat all while juggling his career as a Professor of History at SUNY Brockport and many out of town family obligations, in addition to a few strenuous rock climbing and hiking expeditions. His gentle demeanor, sensitive soul, keen intelligence and exquisite use of the English language are attributes to admire and emulate. He approaches all challenges and “situations” with thoughtful care, and takes the time to listen before responding. There is much to learn from this mensch - inside and outside the classroom. I am certain that you all join me in extending profound gratitude and thanks to Jamie. I appreciate that he will be by my side as Immediate Past President as I follow in his rather large footsteps.
As for me, after serving as your Cantorial Soloist for twenty years, this new position offers many new challenges and a different perspective of life at Temple Sinai. Just when I thought I knew it all! I am honored to be trusted with this responsibility and pledge to put my heart and soul into making sound, ethical decisions. I am blessed with a dedicated and talented group of Vice Presidents and Board members, and I will rely on their thoughts and opinions to make good judgments on your behalf.
No doubt this next year will bring “the bitter and the sweet,” but may we experience them together as a cohesive and loving community.
First Message from Rabbi Zohar
07/01/2024 01:57:57 PM
Dear Friends,
I’m thrilled to be writing for our community’s newsletter for the first time. My family and I have recently moved into town, and we are settling in. Thanks to the efforts made by the members of Temple Sinai’s transition committee, it’s been a smooth and pleasant experience.
Amidst the pains and challenges presented to us by the war in Israel, my family and I were blessed to have had the chance to say our farewells to our Galilean community in a most dignified and meaningful manner. I am grateful for the opportunity I had for being their rabbi for so many wonderful years.
No less so, I am looking forward in curious anticipation for the new chapter of our lives and of my rabbinic journey together with all of you at Temple Sinai, and I am certain that it will be no less meaningful and rewarding.
As we are experiencing this transition this summer, and in light of what has been going on around us, I’d like to share with you some words of Torah.
Connecting to the Jewish tradition allows us to tap into ancient veins of wisdom that have been passed down to us from times of antiquity. Often, the roots of these traditions can be traced back to the pre-Judaic era.
An example of this is Tammuz - the Hebrew name of the summer month, roughly corresponding to July. Tammuz was the Sumerian God of Fertility, a masculine deity who was also worshipped by the Babylonians and Assyrians.
Unlike the lush and green summers of upstate New York, the summer season in the Middle East is a time when nature withers under the intense heat of the sun. Accordingly, the God Tammuz would die each year at the start of the summer season, while his spouse, the Goddess Inanna, would descend to the underworld to rescue and resurrect him. Thus, he would return to life with the arrival of the first autumn rains.
This ancient myth conveys a message about the cyclical and dynamic nature of life. It reflects not only the cycles of nature but also the transient nature of human existence: what flourishes and blooms eventually fades, making space for new growth and prosperity.
By retaining the name Tammuz for the early summer month, (and despite their rejection of polytheism), the ancient Hebrews preserved a spiritual and holistic view of the cycles of life and death, of withering and rehabilitation, symbolized by the shifting seasons.
In this context, it is intriguing to note that, according to Jewish tradition, the month of Tammuz serves as a reminder of yet another tale of profound change: the tragic destruction of the temple in Jerusalem.
On the seventeenth day of Tammuz, a date still observed through fasting and lamentation by many, the Babylonian army breached the walls of Jerusalem, foreshadowing the temple's eventual ruin three weeks later, on the ninth of Av.
Despite the traumatic nature of these events, the destruction of the temple heralded a new chapter in Jewish history, ushering in fresh perspectives for the Jewish people: animal sacrifices gave way to prayer and Torah study, corrupt priests were succeeded by courageous and innovative rabbinic scholars, and a once-landlocked culture adapted to thrive in communities dispersed across the globe.
Just like the ancient myth of Tammuz’s annual death and rebirth, our history teaches us that even when the walls of our civilization are broken and the security of our camp is breached, we eventually find new ways to continue our legacy. Amidst a changing and uncertain reality, we remember that our resilience as a people lies not in fearing change, but in embracing it, adapting to it, and in moving forward.
May the approaching summer season bring gentle and healing winds of change to our community, our people, and all of humanity.
Final Thoughts as President
06/14/2024 01:40:07 PM
Having read (in pre-publication) Esther Brill’s piece on “Comfort, Connection, and Community” in this Bulletin, I am inspired to share some related alliterative thoughts— in this my last article as Temple Sinai President— on exuberance, exhaustion, and expeditions.
I feel a mix of exuberance and exhaustion as my three years as Temple President approaches an end on June 30. I am exuberant about our congregation, the wonderful people who volunteer, and the enriching services and programming that take place in our beautiful sanctuary and facility. At the same time, I am exhausted after an extended term working alongside our clergy, office staff, and lay leaders to keep up with everyday Temple business. It has been especially challenging to do so during the extraordinary crises of the covid pandemic, horrific atrocity of October 7, and ensuing war and worldwide spike in antisemitism. I am so grateful for everything that these dedicated people have done for our congregation during these difficult times.
These dual sensibilities (exuberance and exhaustion) are similar to those I experienced decades ago when I led wilderness expeditions. My shtetl-born grandparents would have surely been dumbfounded by this experience. They might have said (in Yiddush), “Nu, why spend a month at a time in remote mountains rather than training to be a doctor, a lawyer, or an accountant? This is meshuge!” Although they had no reference for my backcountry trips, I’d like to think they would ultimately agree that these expeditions had some parallels with the Jewish congregational community we enjoy at Temple Sinai. Let me explain.
After years of climbing and hiking with friends, I took several months of intensive training after college to lead adults on mountaineering expeditions in the Mountain West. These expeditions were demanding and potentially hazardous, and the comfort and safety of all participants required them to be well-oiled teams. Each group needed to cohere around common goals, shared values, and respect for one another. When they did so, we were able to achieve so much more through mutual effort and support than we ever could on our own. By myself, I can climb non-technical routes and travel a modest distance with the supplies on my back. With a well-tuned expeditionary group, however, we can cross raging rivers, scale peaks, traverse glaciers, and backpack for a hundred miles.
Now I certainly enjoy the peace and privacy of solo camping. But I have only experienced the sublime wonder of a summit sunrise, a stomping herd of bighorn mountain sheep, and calving alpine ice and rockfall when traveling with an expeditionary team. Such euphoric experience is a blessing, not only for uplifting the spirit but also for grounding the ego. For me these experiences have engendered humility, comfort in my skin, and commitment to Chesed (lovingkindness) and Tikkun Olam (care for the world). These experiences can also be exhausting. Living with constant danger and physical toil is stressful. So too is the emotional exertion of living closely with and caring for so many others for a long period of time.
Perhaps you see where I am going with this. My years as Temple President and board member have entailed the emotional exertion of a backcountry expedition, but they have also been similarly exhilarating. Like many of us, I feel the sublime current of our deep Jewish heritage most clearly when I am with our congregational community. Never more so than in our sanctuary as we sing and pray together on Shabbat, joyously celebrate b’nai mitzvah ceremonies, and share one another’s pain during funeral services.
I sometimes think of myself, in classic American terms, as a self-fashioned person. But my time at Sinai has reminded me that some of the most important aspects of myself— my Judaism, my heritage, my desire to leave a meaningful legacy— are not just self-made. They take shape in a community of values and practice that uplifts the spirit and grounds the ego. It is for this reason that I think my shtetl-born grandparents would agree that our congregational community is, like an expedition, a blessing. It has been a gift for my family for the past fifteen years, as we have shared this congregation’s Reform Jewish values and practice and thereby strengthened our commitment to Chesed and Tikkun Olam.
Like the many congregants quoted in Esther’s article, I have cherished the comfort, connection, and community of Temple Sinai, and I will try to do my part—through volunteer activity and financial support— to strengthen our congregation. Please consider doing so as well and joining me on this expedition.
