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President's Kol Nidre Address |
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Written by Aaron Gershowitz
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Thursday, 01 October 2009 18:01 |
At this very moment, in hundreds of synagogues across America, tens of thousands of Jews are sitting through that annual ritual known as the Kol Nidre Appeal. For this one night of the year, as all Jews gather to confess their personal and collective sins, the entire community is all in one place – the perfect captive audience. And so, the community leadership long ago decided, this is the perfect time to speak to the people about the most important issue, requiring the attention of the whole community, even those who only attend services once a year. And what is this most crucial of matters? Why of course, it is money!
Yes! They are all here now, and it is a short service, so people won’t dare to leave early. (And if they do, the ushers are waiting by the door to collect their pledge cards.) Now is the time to warn them about the leaky roof, balky air conditioning system, or fraying Torah cover that needs fixing; or perhaps to inspire them with visions of a beautiful new sanctuary or innovative new program that needs a patron to get off the ground. And so, from the haunting melody and spiritual soul-searching of the Kol Nidre prayer, the congregation moves on in short order to the mundane realm of bricks and mortar, of operating budgets and reserve funds, of cold, hard cash.
But not here at Croton Jewish Center. One of the characteristics of this community that inspired me to join, and that I know has inspired many of you, is that we do not focus on the material realm, and by doing so (or rather by not doing so), we have created a sacred space that fosters spiritual growth and renewal. The homey building set on rustic grounds, the worn and mismatched Torah, ark and bimah covers, the well-used chairs, the 1960s-era kitchen and bathroom decor, all demonstrate that this is a modest, unpretentious, heimish community – a temple to the spirit.
How different from the large, imposing edifices of so many congregations, with their stained glass windows and mosaics, their gleaming facilities and rows of orderly pews – all affixed with a plaque announcing the donor who made this or that item possible. While these places are often very beautiful, and undoubtedly have many devoted and spiritual members, the overall impression, at least to me, is one of an impersonal and materialistic institution that does not speak to my soul.
And so I was taken by this place from the moment I walked in. As I got to know the people and experience the religious and social life of the congregation, I found that the human nature of CJC was as warm, casual and inviting as its physical nature.
You don’t need to dress up to come to a service at CJC. No one is looking at you to see if you are wearing the latest fashion, or if your tie matches your jacket, or even if you are wearing a tie and jacket at all. If you want to dress up, that is fine, if you dress down, that is great as well – as long as you are wearing something, you are welcome.
Participation is welcome – more than welcome – encouraged – but there is no pressure to do any more than you are ready for. There is no judgment, just friendly people ready to help you learn at your own pace. It doesn’t matter if you can’t read Hebrew or carry a tune, just listen to the voices of the congregation raised in prayer and you can’t help but start humming along, and before you know it you have picked up a few syllables and words, and then as time passes you find yourself singing along as one of the group.
And the food… you can’t talk about the spirit of CJC without mentioning the food. At times I think that the spiritual center of this place is not the sanctuary, but rather the kitchen. The weekly kiddush – in some shuls just a little morsel to ease your hunger on the way out the door – at CJC is a meal and an event, perhaps the only realm in which CJCers let their competitive juices flow as they seek to outdo each other with such delicacies as lavish smoked-fish platters, home-baked quiches, steaming hot or refreshingly cold soups (depending on the season), artfully arranged salads and fruit platters, desserts of all kinds – and always the bagels!! After all, what is a Jewish brunch without a bagel and a shmear?
Then there are the Friday night dinners, the holiday parties, the Tubeshvat seder, the end of Passover seder – any excuse, it seems, for another cook-a-thon. The delicious smells that so often waft from the kitchen only enhance the spiritual experience in the sanctuary next door. No wonder Rabbi Bockman fits in so well – not only is he a learned rabbi, accomplished Torah reader, and spiritual davener – not least among his talents, he is a gourmet kosher cook!
Given this spirit and atmosphere, it was not a complete surprise at my first Kol Nidre service at CJC to find that there was no fundraising appeal. Yet I was still rather puzzled. Before moving to Croton I had attended High Holiday services at Park Slope Jewish Center, in an artsy, up-and-coming but not yet up-scale Brooklyn neighborhood. There was no sense of materialism in the old building that housed that congregation, or in the manner and dress of the congregants, and yet on Kol Nidre they handed out pledge cards, with little cut-out tabs that you turned down to mark how much you would contribute. Surely CJC needed some money – there was this old building and grounds to maintain, a rabbi to pay, heat and lighting bills to cover – and yet no one was asking for money!! Had I entered an alternative reality synagogue?
Once I joined the Board of Trustees, I learned that the absence of a Kol Nidre fundraising appeal was a conscious decision by the synagogue’s leadership, a way to differentiate ourselves from other congregations and to make a clear and public statement to the membership and guests alike that we are above material concerns, that this is a place of spirit and worship, of learning and love. As for the material needs that did arise, we would somehow get by, as we always had, on the membership dues (rock-bottom by regional standards), the time, sweat and talent of dedicated members, and timely contributions from a few generous congregants. Thus it had always been, and thus it would always be.
Now I stand before you as President of Croton Jewish Center, proud and respectful of this great tradition, yet also most aware of the needs that this institution faces. The pavement in the parking lot is pot-holed and crumbling, several burners on the stove are broken, the tiles of the kitchen counters are cracking, all of the toilets needed to be replaced at once – the list could go on and on. As all of you who own a house surely know, there is always some repair that needs to be done, and if you don’t keep up the maintenance, the whole edifice seems to come down on you at once.
We are also experiencing a decline in membership, and therefore a drop in revenue from synagogue dues and Hebrew School tuition, so that we are now operating at a deficit. Thanks to the generosity of members past and present, and the wise fiscal management of our dear, and sorely missed, friend, Dick Turshen, (who also saved us money by trimming the trees, cleaning the gutters and making repairs large and small) we have sufficient reserves to continue for a time. But no reserve lasts forever if you tap it for too long, so we must turn this trend around as soon as possible. Additional investment in programs and facilities may be needed to attract new members and move CJC into a stable and viable future.
So as I thought about this speech over the last several weeks, I was at times tempted to break with CJC tradition and deliver a classic Kol Nidre appeal. Why not make the pitch, distribute the pledge cards, and see what happens? We can certainly use the money, and you never know what you will get until you ask. But on the other hand, it was that very lack of materialism that attracted me to CJC in the first place. In my desire to save the body of CJC, would I be fatally damaging its soul?
I ultimately concluded that it would be contrary to the spirit and history of CJC to make a traditional Kol Nidre appeal. When you came in this evening you found no pledge cards on your seats, and there are no ushers to collect them as you leave. I will not ask you to commit any specific sum of money to the synagogue, and there will be no follow-up calls to urge you to fulfill this pledge.
I will, however, make another sort of appeal to you, one that is consistent with our tradition as the “do-it-yourself” shul. I appeal to each of you to look inside yourself and determine what you can do to make Croton Jewish Center a stronger, healthier, more vibrant and welcoming community in the year ahead. Contributions of all types – of time, energy, and talent (not to mention money) – are equally welcome.
There are many possibilities. You could plan an activity or event, sponsor a Shabbat dinner, teach a class, learn to chant a haftorah or to lead part of the service, paint the walls or clean up the grounds, fix a broken cabinet or doorknob, design a new CJC logo and advertising campaign… my wish list goes on and on. But what you give, and what you do, is ultimately up to you, and should reflect what is most important to you about CJC, what brought you here and keeps you coming back. Be creative, dream up new ideas, challenge yourselves, and the rest of us, to create a community where the love of Judaism and the spirit of our shared Jewish heritage can flourish.
A community is like a living organism, with a life span that transcends any of its component parts. None of the cells in our bodies today existed when we were born, and none of the cells in our bodies today will still exist when we die. Throughout this life we are the same person, yet we are also completely transformed.
This congregation was brought into being in 1965, more than forty years ago, by a group of people who were inspired to create a home for the religious, cultural and social life of the Jews of this area. None of us were present at the creation, and none of those founders are here with us today. Yet they created something that endures, a community that was ready to welcome us, to envelop us in its warmth and wisdom. The organism that is Croton Jewish Center lives on, although none of its original components remains.
Now it is our turn. This institution has been entrusted to us for a time, and it is our responsibility to do the work and make the contributions that are necessary to ensure that it continues to be here to welcome others in the future. Judaism, and the Jewish people, have survived for millennia, while much more powerful nations and widespread religions have risen and fallen, largely because Jews have always built strong and resilient communities wherever and whenever they are. These communities have preserved the history of our people and the teachings of our tradition, have transmitted them from generation to generation (l’dor v’dor), and have fostered an environment in which new ideas and practices have developed and been incorporated as part of the living body of the Jewish people. Our congregation is an integral part of this history, and has a valuable role to play in its continuation.
In the siddur, at the end of the Torah service, is a prayer for our congregation. We read it in Hebrew, and so we may not be that aware of the importance of its words. I will therefore conclude with this heartfelt prayer:
May He who blessed our ancestors, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah, bless this entire congregation, together with all holy congregations: them, their sons and daughters, their families, and all that is theirs, along with those who unite to establish synagogues for prayer, and those who enter them to pray, and those who give funds for heat and light, and wine for Kiddush and Havdalah, bread to the wayfarer and charity to the poor, and all who devotedly involve themselves with the needs of this community and the Land of Israel. May the Holy One Praised be He reward them; may He remove sickness from them, heal them, and forgive their sins. May He bless them by prospering all their worthy endeavors, as well as those of the entire people Israel. And let us say: Amen. |
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