RJ Blog

We stood at the sea
Until the waters parted
Midrash tells us why

The first to step in
Nachshon Ben Aminadav
Then G-d split the sea

Nachshon’s leap of faith
Showed the courage leaders need
Going first is hard

“Sure, we can afford to order pizza for the kids for dinner when I am feeling at my lowest from chemotherapy. We could call Domino’s and in no time there would be a pizza on the table. But my kids already know that Domino’s delivers! I am so grateful that the members of my congregation bring meals for our family. I want my kids to know that our congregation delivers and that they bring much more than food. When I am gone I want them to know for the rest of their lives they can turn to their Jewish community, to their tradition and to good friends for nurturing, support and caring.”

This perceptive, brave and generous young mother living with advanced cancer was explaining why having a congregation which was truly a Caring Community meant so much to her. In fact, she was a member of that congregation’s caring committee and when she felt well she helped to bring welcome baskets containing Jewish lullaby CDs, tiny candlesticks, a mezuzah, books and loving messages to families who had new babies; she helped make phone calls to people who were isolated; she provided lifts to people who might not otherwise be able to come to congregational events. The committee was guided in their work by members of their clergy, mental health professionals from within the congregation and by the resources of the Union for Reform Judaism.

Right around her 65^th birthday a funny, compassionate and brilliant member of another congregation celebrated her adult bat mitzvah. Also living with cancer, she had looked forward to and prepared for this day as she went through experimental treatment in a distant state. Congregants had recorded the songs and prayers of the Shabbat morning worship group to which she belonged so that she could listen to them and feel strengthened even when she could not be in the chapel with her friends. Now, returned and in remission, she was about to lead the service.  Her rabbi presented her with a special gift from the congregation, a tallit purchased in Jerusalem especially for her. Her friends had sewn narrow ribbons on the inside of the tallit and on these each member of the worship group had written messages of love and encouragement in indelible ink. As the rabbi wrapped her in the tallit she and each person in the room knew that each time she would wear it she would feel surrounded by the love of God and of her community.  Communities of caring and connection are not formed and sustained only by the work of committees and clergy. They are woven each day and each week by devotion, creativity and shared values that emerge as groups of people led by deeply engaged clergy gather each week to study, socialize, share meals, pray, laugh and sometimes cry together over the course of many weeks, months and years.

Read more…

by Paula Krone and Michael Faber

Like most parents, from the time we gave birth to our son, we had many hopes and dreams for him. We wanted him to have a good education, have friends and grow up to live a happy and prosperous life. We also had dreams of our child being brought up in the Jewish religion, and we hoped our child would embrace all that Judaism has to offer. Of course, we had hoped that he would pass some part of ourselves, including our Jewish heritage, to his children. It wasn’t long after Benjamin Avi was born, however, that we knew that many of those dreams would never come to be.

Benjamin Avi was born with a rare, genetic disease called mitochondrial myopathy. It is not one of the genetic diseases typically associated with the Jewish people. This one affects both Jews and non-Jews of all races and cultures. Mitochondrial myopathy has caused Benjamin’s cells to not produce enough energy for his body to function as most people’s do. As a result, Benjamin cannot walk, cannot talk and has poor fine motor skills. He cannot chew or digest food properly, and he is considered legally blind. He has seizures, a feeding tube and has been diagnosed with moderate mental retardation, an intellectual disability that still leaves us questioning what he understands and what he does not. Although the effects of mitochondrial diseases vary greatly between victims, the one commonality seems to be a shortened life expectancy, although medical science cannot predict that very well. There is currently no cure for mitochondrial myopathy or any of the many other mitochondrial diseases.

Read more…

Today is the 1^st day of the second year following the death of my son, Mitch. It is also the date upon which I had committed to beginning a Blog about my spiritual journey and contemplations. This morning, God provided one of those Invisible Lines of Connection of which Larry Kushner writes to prove that this is the right day.

I was crossing from Penn Station to my Midtown office in NYC, picking out a different route, as I do each day. Rounding a corner, a young man caught my eye, and then my body in a tearful hug. He is the loving brother of a wonderful young woman, Amy, whose wedding I performed ten years ago, after connecting very deeply to her and her fiancé during preparation. One month later, I received a sobbing phone call from her husband, Brian, telling me Amy had died very suddenly. Post-mortem examination revealed an undetected cardiac defect had taken her, very much as happened with Mitch all these years later.

Read more…

by A.G.

Inclusion has always permeated my entire relationship with my temple, Congregation Kol Ami.  My very first conversation with Rabbi Shira Milgrom was about inclusion.  Twenty-one years ago, I was faced with a dilemma.  How could my ten-year-old son become a bar mitzvah if as a single working parent I could barely pay the rent, no less pay dues?   I posed the question to Rabbi Shira.  Her reply was simple.  “Just because you are poor, is not a reason that should prevent you from being part of a Jewish community.”  And so it began.

Jeff attended Hebrew school and I started to go to the “Spiritual Lift”, a Saturday morning Sabbath service held in the Chapel in the Woods.  Years of social isolation began to fade, as I was welcomed into the congregation, a devoted group of fifty to one hundred Jews that eventually became an extended family.  It was there that I reconnected with a sense of spirituality.

Read more…

I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live.  That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God.
-Ecclesiastes 3:12-13

Coming back from an outing to Tel Aviv, we got on the9:22to Acco.  It was a Thursday night, so the train was packed, and the prospects of finding seats looked grim.  However, making our way toward the front car we came across an area with fold-down seats, of which several were blocked by a mass of large suitcases.  The luggage belonged to two couples obviously returning from the airport, and with a little rearrangement we succeeded in folding down two seats for us and one for a grandmotherly Orthodox woman also looking for a place. Read more…

by Cindy Singer

My name is Cindy Singer. November 6, 1996- a day that my son, Dylan was born with familial dysautonomia (FD), one of 19 devastating Jewish Genetic Diseases (JGD’s). It is a day that will forever be remembered as one of the saddest days of our lives.

Along with a host of other life threatening symptoms associated with FD, Dylan is also Autistic and non-verbal. 10% of those afflicted with FD are Autistic.  Amazingly, Dylan communicates with an iPad via a special needs voice out-put program called the Proloquo.

As a family we knew that Dylan would have profound health struggles and developmental challenges but with the help of our community or what I like to call “our village” we learned to build a life “one-day-at-a-time”.

Read more…

The first temple, in Jerusalem, was built by King Solomon, after God deemed his father, King David, unworthy of the task. Nonetheless, a dozen member congregations of the Union for Reform Judaism have deemed King David worthy enough to name their temples after him (although none explains on its website the reason for their choice).

But among contemporary URJ temples, only one bears the name Solomon. You could readily surmise that the Jews of that congregation wanted to honor the great builder and wise man who is credited with writing Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Songs.  (Daddy only has Psalms to his credit.)  But in so surmising, you would be wrong.  Temple Beth Solomon of the Deaf (Northridge CA) was coaxed into being, according to its online history, as an evolution of the Los Angeles Hebrew Association of the Deaf, and the transition was facilitated by the regional director of the then Union of American Hebrew Congregations (now URJ), Rabbi Solomon Kleinman. In appreciation for his guidance, the founders named their synagogue in his honor.

Read more…