I read with great interest Barbara Bayer’s commentary/response to the community conversation regarding the Pew Research study of which I was a panel participant. My admiration and respect for all of my fellow participants was affirmed during the evening. I was and am appreciative for the opportunity to share my views and the work of my Congregation Kol Ami with the community. However, there is one inaccuracy in the article that requires clarification.

I am not a Reform rabbi. It is not that I would in any way have an issue with being one if I were so. I have great respect for the character and work of all of the Reform rabbis in our community. Having spent most of my adult life as a member of Congregation Beth Torah I am grateful for having been a part of such a wonderful Jewish community (Mazel Tov to them for their 25 years of contributing to Jewish life in Kansas City), and particularly to have Rabbi Mark Levin for my rabbi.

However, I did not receive smichah from (was not ordained by) a seminary recognized by the Reform movement. My seminary, the Academy for Jewish Religion in New York takes great pride in being a pluralistic, trans/post/multi-denominational school. I had three Talmud teachers: one Orthodox rabbi, one Conservative rabbi and one Reform rabbi. My colleagues also represented the broad spectrum of the Jewish American community. For davening we had available to us Siddurim from all movements: Reconstructionist, Renewal, Conservative, Orthodox and Reform.

As I explicitly stated during the community conversation, in addition to the many years I spent at Reform Congregation Beth Torah, I grew up at Beth Shalom (Conservative), davened at Orthodox congregation Kesher Israel in Washington, D.C., during my college years, and was the rabbinic intern at Ohev Sholom (Conservative). I liked and valued each of those experiences, and find something to commend in what each of our broad Jewish communities have to offer K’lal Yisrael. I simply do not want to have to choose one over the other, and would rather freely take what I like from each.

Congregation Kol Ami has never officially affiliated with the Reform movement. More to the point, our kehilah made the conscious decision over the last year or so to present ourselves as non-movement specific, an open tent eager for what each unique voice can bring into our community to enrich our collective spiritual lives. Our members represent this broad spectrum of Jewish theology and practice, seeing our community as one that eagerly welcomes those who have elsewhere felt disenfranchised: Jews who are new to the city with little previous connection to anyone in the community, interfaith couples and families, and people from the LGBT community.

This decision was attendant to our decision to buck a decades-long trend in Kansas City’s Jewish community of moving further and further away from the central city. We are now a truly urban synagogue, worshipping at 45th and Walnut, locating our community garden at 43rd and Forest (east of Troost) working with the historic Manheim Park neighborhood, and engaging in issues of social justice and concern to the central city (issues of gun violence, racial and economic justice, comprehensive immigration reform). By actually locating in the central city these problems truly become “our problems” and not “their problems.”

I would respectfully suggest that categorizing me and my congregation as Reform is not merely a misstatement, but rather reflective of an adherence to preserving a familiar and comfortable way of looking at Judaism in the United States versus seeking real change, and finding new ways to look at forming strong Jewish communities. (The panel organizers also insisted that I was on the panel representing the Reform movement, notwithstanding my insistence that it was not the case.)

Bayer rightfully asserts that “... we have to make adjustments in the way we do things to maintain a viable Jewish community.” But she questions whether or not we will do more than talk about making those needed changes during the next 20 years, stating that “only time will tell.”

We at Congregation Kol Ami are making those changes now. What remains to be seen is whether our Jewish community leaders will support those changes designed to create and strengthen Jewish community, rather than only discuss the need for change, yet commit total support solely to programs and institutions that maintain the status quo.

In regard to disputing my assertion that strong Jewish communities will be built through relationship, and not programming, I would suggest for reading, Dr. Ron Wolfson’s book “Relational Judaism,” Rabbi Elie Kaunfer’s book “Empowered Judaism” and the S3K Report-Synagogue 3000 study, “Reform and Conservative Congregations: Different Strengths, Different Challenges,” which I mentioned during the community conversation.

For those who were wondering, the sky is not falling. In fact, as one panelist so eloquently put it last week, it would be strategically unwise to be pessimistic.

I agree.

And when I left last week’s community conversation, which discussed the recent Pew Research Center study, “A Portrait of Jewish Americans: Is the Sky Falling?” I was more optimistic than I typically am. Do we have to make adjustments in the way we do things to maintain a viable Jewish community? You bet. Do we have a clue how to do that? I don’t really think so. Will we actually do more than talk about needing to make changes during the next 20 years? Only time will tell.

Even with all those uncertainties, I walked away from the community conversation — hosted by the Jewish Federation, the Rabbinical Association and the Jewish Funders Council — last week feeling good about our community. Here in Kansas City, or more accurately southern Johnson County where the majority of our local Jewish population lives, we’ve known for a while that we need to do things differently to continue to have a viable, vibrant Jewish community. So the numbers that came out in the Pew Research Center study shouldn’t have been a surprise. The study pointed out that the proportion of Jews who say they have no religion and are Jewish only on the basis of ancestry, ethnicity or culture is growing rapidly. We can see that in the decline of synagogue members. The study also said two-thirds of these people are not raising their children Jewishly at all. That’s easy to figure out as well, based on the fact that the intermarriage rate is at 58 percent, up from 43 percent in 1990, and 17 percent in 1970. Among non-Orthodox Jews, the intermarriage rate is even higher at 71 percent.

So while there’s been quite a bit of national analysis on the Pew Research Center study, approximately 130 people came out on a stormy Kansas City evening to hear what our local experts had to say. That fact alone — that so many people showed up when it would be easier to not venture out at all — was enough to boost my spirits.

Those experts represented the three major Jewish religious movements — Orthodox Rabbi Daniel Rockoff, Conservative Rabbi David Glickman and Reform Rabbi Doug Alpert; two agencies that have a major impact on young people and families — Hillel Executive Director Jay Lewis and Jewish Community Center President and CEO Jacob Schreiber; and community volunteers Sarah Beren and Victor Wishna. The panel presented its views and answered questions from the audience during the event.

As Lewis pointed out, there are many positives in the study under discussion. In fact, 94 percent of those who identified as Jewish said they were proud to do so. It was also heartening to hear Rabbi Rockoff say that he believes God will never let the Jewish people disappear.

Our problems, our lack of Jewish involvement and engagement, could very well stem from the fact that it’s never been easier to be Jewish. We were told that it’s a blessing and a curse that Jews are now totally accepted by the general community. Young Jews today didn’t live through the Holocaust and may not even know any survivors. To them, Israel hasn’t been the struggling young Jewish state many of us grew up with … and from their perspective, it has even frequently been portrayed as the aggressor.

Congregation Beth Shalom’s Rabbi Glickman may have presented the best idea of the night. He pointed out that we throw money and programs at a wide variety of age groups starting with Jewish preschoolers and teens — including all the various youth groups, Hillel and Birthright Israel — all good things he added. But we do very little once these young adults graduate college. Then we expect them to marry Jewish people, raise their children Jewish and join congregations. With that huge gap in programming for many young Jewish people who get married — on average between the ages of 29-35 — that lack of connection and the resulting disengagement can be hard to overcome.

Rabbi Glickman concluded the evening by reminding us we have to reach out and bring every person we know into our community. Interestingly enough, this same point came up at the beginning of the evening when Rabbi Alpert reminded us the Jewish community has to be welcoming to everyone — saying it’s about relationships, not programs. I think we actually do need programming, especially programs that bring us together. I’ve been to several big events in the last month and there’s nothing better than being in a room filled with Jewish people, especially Jewish people you know well and can joke and laugh with.

One example of the power of programming is the success of KU Hillel. The Jewish student organization recently hosted more than 550 people at the 12th annual Rock Chalk Shabbat. During the rest of the school year, KU Hillel consistently provides programs and meals for hundreds of Jewish students. Through those programs, KU Hillel ultimately builds relationships. Statistics show that many of these students, especially those who take part in a Birthright Israel experience, tend to be more dedicated to the Jewish community after they graduate.

This isn’t nearly enough though. We need to find ways to change and evolve. Borrowing one of Lewis’ lines from the community conversation, young Jews are not disinterested, but their engagement may differ from the traditional way to which many of us are accustomed. Schreiber reminded us that “change is cool,” and we need to listen as our young people try to re-invent the Jewish community. Perhaps we should find out what they want before we plan programs for them.

While we’re doing that, listening to our young people and figuring out where we need to go next, let’s hope funders and donors follow Sarah Beren’s advice.

“Take a leap of faith and invest in our future.”

Well said Sarah.

A genuine mitzvah

Thank you so much for publishing the excellent piece regarding kidney transplants by Judy Firestone Singer as well as The Chronicle’s helpful articles about my condition last summer.

Last week, Ellen Murphy (our donor) and I attended a conference on transplants hosted by Gift of Life, an organization dedicated to inculcate a culture of helping each other in these matters. It was an extraordinary gathering of several hundred people — many mother/daughter, father/son and friend-to-friend organ-sharing stories. Others were anonymous donors.

All in all, the message was clear: help your community by being an organ donation advocate and potential organ donor.

The need for donors now way exceeds the supply. The gift of donating is highly personal. Know, however, it does not impair your health and adds immeasurably to the lives of others.

Certainly, nachas for all but most important, a genuine mitzvah!

David Seldner

Leawood, Kan.

Taboo subjects hide in every facet of our society. Shame and stigma create a protective force around the topics, allowing them to thrive and reproduce unhindered by social conventions.

Unfortunately, domestic violence is one of these secret and shameful issues. The good news is that October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. The designation shines a light on the abuse that lurks in the dark recesses of our society, including right here in the Kansas City area. The attitude that all domestic issues should remain private is both dangerous and archaic. Domestic violence is sadly alive and flourishing in the 21st Century.

The effects of abuse are not just personal and short term. It affects family members, co-workers and our communities. The lasting effects of abuse are just now being investigated, and a new national survey conducted by More Magazine and the Verizon Foundation spotlights the long-term health effects that domestic violence has on chronic illness. The startling results of the survey include:

Forty-four percent of women report that they have personally experienced a form of domestic violence — physical, emotional, sexual, economic or psychological.

Ninety-one percent of women believe that health care professionals should screen for domestic violence during an exam. However, 75 percent of women report that no health care provider has ever inquired about domestic violence. That number increases to 85 percent in women older than 65.

In women suffering from chronic health issues — such as diabetes, digestive disease, asthma and high blood pressure — domestic violence increases the existence of chronic diseases by as much as 18 percent.

The attitude that domestic violence is nobody’s business is false. The repercussions of violence have long-term medical and economic impacts. Our health care system will be increasingly taxed caring for the chronic illnesses that are created or exacerbated by the violence. When an employee is chronically sick, business productivity is diminished, and the employee may be fired. This can lead to an increase in unemployable individuals, which can overwhelm the welfare system.

Remember that domestic violence issues affect everyone. The shame should not engulf the violence, but the silence. It is time we give a voice to this once forbidden issue. If domestic violence continues to thrive, our medical and economic systems may be headed for disaster. The first step is awareness that domestic violence exists far too often. As a society, it is time to educate everyone, especially our youth, that violent behaviors are not acceptable — ever.

L.J. Kaufman, a Jewish woman who lives in Overland Park, is an attorney, college professor and author of the domestic violence novel, “It’s Never a Secret.”

(Editor’s note: This article first appeared on The Times of Israel website, www.timesofisrael.com, on Oct. 21 and is reprinted with permission. It was written prior to the surgery that took place Tuesday, Oct. 29. At press time, The Chronicle learned that the surgery went well. Singer is the daughter of the late Chronicle publisher Milton Firestone and the late Bea Firestone Wasserstrom Flam and is an alumna of the Hyman Brand Hebrew Academy.)

Next week, barring last-minute delays, I will be admitted to the vascular surgery ward at Rambam Hospital in Haifa. The next morning a surgeon is scheduled to remove my right kidney and transfer it to the body of R, a woman from Haifa near my own age, who has suffered from a severe kidney disease for the past 10 years. If all goes well, my kidney will allow R to regain her health and return to a normal, productive life.

This surgery will be the culmination of quite a long journey which has come to be something of a vocation, a trek that has taken me far from my comfort zone. I have been permitted a small glimpse into the lives of people for whom taking care of their health is a full-time job, and who yearn for something that most of us feel entitled to automatically — the right to take good health for granted. (Read more at http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/youre-donating-what/)

When Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated, I was there. I remember that moment vividly to this day. It was Nov. 4, 1995. I was with my family and a full bus from our kibbutz. The energy was high, the crowd was huge and it felt like change was in the air. And then, three shots were fired … three shots that changed history for the State of Israel. When Israelis voted the Labor Party into government in June 1992, with Yitzhak Rabin at its helm, they knew well what they were getting. Here was a man who had been in public life for more than 40 years. When he became prime minister for the first time in 1974, he had been the first native-born Israeli (sabra) to attain the post. His astonishingly successful military record, no-nonsense speaking style, gravelly voice and oddly shy little smile were as familiar to Israelis as would be the mannerisms of a favorite uncle. Yet, in a short span, they would meet a new Yitzhak Rabin — a great war commander and implacable foe of the PLO transformed into a soldier for peace, and a Nobel laureate. And so, in November 1995, when this first-ever sabra/prime minister became the first-ever Israeli prime minister to be assassinated in office — and by a young Jew, no less — Israelis came to know with horror and grief what they had lost.Rabin’s assassination took place at a big peace rally, supporting him and the peace process. Everyone I was with was excited about this rally. Things in Israel were changing and a new era was about to begin … my parents were not about to let my siblings and I miss that. I was only 11 years old at the time, and didn’t understand much of what was going on around me. Still, it was educational. Taking part in such a historic event definitely had an impact on a girl like me.

The rally was moving and powerful, and ended late that Saturday night. After everyone started leaving the town square, we stood across the road from the crowd waiting for Rabin. It was then that the shots went off, three in a row. My father grabbed my hand and we started running away from the area. I looked back and saw that same crowd running toward us like a herd.

We ran for a while and at the time I didn’t understand what had happened. The shots fired sounded like a tire exploding to me. Eventually we got to the bus that took us back to the Kibbutz and then things fell into place. Rumors were going around between the adults about what had happened and somewhere along the coastline, on the way back home, the radio report came saying Yitzhak Rabin had died. The bus was quiet. I remember seeing grownup men and women’s sad, devastated, teary eyes. People were crying as if they knew Rabin personally. But they were also crying for the chance that was taken, for the violent way democracy and trust were harmed.That day changed history and it had a deep impact upon many Israelis, myself included. Grief from the assassination led many Israelis to take a stand, to acknowledge that their apathy toward society cannot exist anymore. People felt the assassination of Rabin was their “wake-up call” to an active society. I made my choice: I chose to be active, to voice my opinions about society and about my community. I chose to make it better. Many Israelis chose to do the same.

Democracy allowed us to be active and make a change in our life for a better future. I wish more people would take that chance and make a difference in their country and their community. I hope we will never need a wake-up call to be active, but just go out and have an impact on our surroundings. I believe in making your own life as you wish it would be, and like Rabin chose the way of peace after years of experience in war, we can choose to make a difference and be active in our lives.

Education prevents prejudice

The attack on professor and physician Dr. Prabhjot Singh in New York City on Sept. 21 is a manifestation of unfounded hatred and ignorance as indicated by a continuous stream of attacks on Sikhs in the past several years.

On the same day a man attacked a Muslim woman during a pro-democracy rally in Times Square, calling her a “terrorist,” grabbing her sign and throwing it at her.

The Greater Kansas City Interfaith Council (GKCIC) commends Dr. Singh for asking everyone to understand one another “through deeper engagement” and not to stereotype as terrorists people who have beards, wear turbans, hijabs or head-coverings.

The attack on Dr. Singh and the Muslim woman indicate the urgency and importance of dedicating ourselves to learning about each other, which in turn helps prevent prejudice, stereotypes and violence.

The GKCIC offers a speakers bureau and programs throughout the year so that people in our community have the opportunity to learn about different faiths and cultures. To request speakers or to become educated about various religions, visit kcinterfaith.org.

Sheila Sonnenschein

Convener

Greater KC Interfaith Council

On Erev Shabbat, Shabbat Shuva, Sept. 6, Rabbi Art Nemitoff of B’nai Jehudah addressed our combined congregations from the Beth Torah pulpit. It was an exciting evening.

Rabbi Nemitoff addressed an important challenge: combining our strengths to program more effectively between the two congregations. While Rabbi Nemitoff was not specific, I imagine these are the kinds of programs he may have meant: youth activities for all ages, women’s activities and men’s activities in order to increase the pool of eligible participants; expanding the scope of education and creating a larger variety of activities; increasing the variety of worship to appeal to different tastes; combine worship for the occasions when a very limited number of people attend, like Sukkot morning.

There are also areas that we ought not combine. Our worship styles differ markedly, and diversity is a wonderful part of having a large community. We ought not aim at a monoculture for worship. Varieties of educational and religious experiences increase the interest in Judaism. We already know that combining certain activities actually decreases the participation, and we have to avoid those areas. We want to increase our activities, possibilities and the quality of our Jewish life.

Consider that the greatest educational and communication tool to be invented in the last 500 years has just been invented: digital communication, including cell phones, the Internet, Twitter, etc. Among the results is a greater focus on individuals forming their own constantly changing communities. But it has also opened up possibilities for community formation that have united people all over the world who choose to opt in to a particular community, sometimes of their own creation. Meanwhile, this technology has spread so rapidly that it’s extremely difficult to stay ahead of the cultural changes taking place. We lack the resources to stay ahead of new developments, and we don’t have the staffing to keep up with new cultural trends.

At Rosh Hashanah I discussed the new directions for congregational life: Community building through taking care of others (Caring Community Team — CCT), changing to digital education, and creating a new life stage for over 50-year-olds. All of these require leadership to step forward and make them happen, both with personal volunteer energy and the donation of new funds. These are challenges that require innovation, but they also require people who want the community to continue to meet the needs of Jews in new, innovative and relevant ways. We need you to be involved at all levels. The success of community life depends on the personal involvement of each community member at whatever level s/he finds most possible. The vitality of our community hangs in the balance.

Rabbi Nemitoff pointed to an essential fact: we are better off working together than working separately. Not in everything: we need different worship styles to appeal to multiple communities within the larger Jewish community. But with the digital revolution has come such a variety of possibilities that we need to work together to appeal to everyone. This is our challenge, and our opportunity.

See ‘Tangled Roots’

Thank you for giving attention to “Tangled Roots,” a unique and extraordinary art exhibition offered to the community by the Jewish Community Center on Sept. 29. Please note that literary and visual artist Jose Faus was born in Colombia, South America — not Columbia, as reported. This fact has significantly influenced his expressive career. Join us from 3 to 5 p.m. to hear and view Jose’s work!

Jill Maidhof

Director of Jewish Life and Learning

Jewish Community Center

No real answer to intermarriage

I would like to add my thoughts to the debate Jack Wertheimer, professor of American-Jewish history at the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York, has sparked regarding intermarriage and inmarriage and his assertion that welcoming intermarried families into the Jewish community has been a failure (Editor’s note: Gary Rosenblatt guest column Sept. 19, full article Mosaic online magazine — www.mosaicmagazine.com). In a perfect world, I would agree that more Jewish education and creative positive Jewish experiences would stem the trend of intermarriage. Logically this sounds right, but I can tell you with 40 years’ experience in Conservative synagogues, that the reality is that even the children with positive experiences who excelled in Hebrew school, intermarry. Some come from traditional homes. Many intermarry simply because they attend college away from home, fall in love and believe love will conquer all. A rabbi can speak himself blue in the face about the non-Jewish partner converting, but usually it makes no difference. The non-Jewish partner does not wish to convert and the Jewish partner feels compromise and accommodation will work things out. The pain and anguish occurs when the intermarried couple has children and there is a baptism. This tears the hearts out of the grandparents who have no choice; they do not want to lose their children or grandchildren.

The children of a non-Jewish mother are not Jewish. We have now lost them forever. I have heard it suggested that Conservative Judaism accept patrilineal descent with provisions encouraging Jewish education. I believe this will happen in the future, but I have problems accepting this solution.

I do not have the answer, and I believe no one does, but I do know that if one does not believe they are halachicly Jewish, they will not seek Judaism but will follow the non-Jewish mother’s religion.

Rabbi Dr. Bernhard Rosenberg

Edison, N.J.

(Editor’s note: On Friday, Sept. 6, Rabbi Arthur Nemitoff gave the sermon on Shabbat Shuvah at Congregation Beth Torah at the invitation of Rabbi Mark Levin. Rabbi Levin had spoken at The Temple, Congregation B’nai Jehudah two years earlier on Shabbat Shuvah. Following services, several people suggested The Chronicle publish an article about the speech, however The Chronicle does not cover events on Shabbat. Instead The Chronicle is publishing Rabbi Nemitoff’s remarks, provided by the rabbi, in their entirety.)

When I came to B’nai Jehudah 10 years ago, I instituted a new tradition. On the Shabbat in between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Shabbat Shuvah, I would invite a noted clergy person from somewhere in this country or even beyond to speak and inspire us on a message of repentance. Two years ago, we invited Rabbi (Mark) Levin (of Congregation Beth Torah). The atmosphere in our chapel two years ago was truly electric. It was an evening to remember. I want to thank Rabbi Levin for his gracious invitation to speak here tonight.

Tonight’s message is simple. I have three goals. First I want to address the meaning of this Shabbat, Shabbat Shuvah, this Sabbath of turning. Second I want to address what it means that we gather here tonight, the significance of two congregations that truly share one history. Third, I want to address the future of the North American Jewish community. And I hope to do all that in about 10 minutes.

* * *

“The entire world is a narrow bridge and the essential piece is that we not be afraid.” Those words were uttered by Rabbi Levin at Selichot, when he spoke on reflections of forgiveness in his own life. Rabbi Shuval-Weiner used those same words on Erev Rosh Hashanah. And I use them again tonight. Those words do not belong to any of us. They belong to Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlov. Anybody who does any Jewish singing knows those words. We sing them in Jewish camps. We teach them in religious school. The question is what do they mean? “The entire world is a narrow bridge, a very narrow bridge — the essence, the key piece to remember is not to be afraid.”

Tonight is Shabbat Shuvah, the Sabbath of Shuvah, of return. What does the word “shuv” mean? “Shuvah” means repentance but “shuv” means to turn, to return. Yet, there is a problem. When you think about Rabbi Nachman’s statement that the entire world is a narrow, narrow bridge, how do you turn on a narrow bridge? It is so narrow you can’t go anywhere. Maybe what “shuv” means is not to return but to renew, to look behind to what was, to figure out where you are today, and determine where you want to go.

When folks study Rabbi Nachman’s famous quote, they ask about the narrowness of that bridge — if you go to the left, to the right you fall off, and they focus on the fear of falling. However, they forget to ask the question, “Where does the bridge come from and where does the bridge go?”

I believe that the bridge is a bridge from the earth to the heaven. Or put another way, one end of the bridge keeps us chained down and the other end leads to what allows us to soar beyond our own imaginations. This Shabbat is an opportunity to consider where we have been; but more importantly, where we want to go. Fear keeps us stuck at one end of the bridge. On this Shabbat Shuvah, the Shabbat of renewal, we know we can reach toward the other end.

* * *

When I came home 10 years ago, quite honestly one of the things that was foremost in my mind was Congregation Beth Torah. The reason why? While I was gone, Beth Torah came into existence. When I left B’nai Jehudah, Beth Torah didn’t exist. Rabbi Levin was rabbi at B’nai Jehudah. And when Beth Torah was formed, I stand here tonight to tell you something that all of us know: a wound was opened in this community, a wound that has taken 25 years to heal.

But I was thinking about Beth Torah and asking how do we heal this wound? What was the stumbling block? What I knew existed and what I felt when I came here: Fear. I don’t know what the fear was about but there was fear and there was anger and there was angst and it existed and was palpable. I recalled Rabbi Nachman’s quote, “the essential piece is not to be afraid.” Franklin Delano Roosevelt famously stated, “The only thing to fear is fear itself.” Fear gets us stuck in bad places. So, I asked: How can we go beyond the fear? Because, in the end, we all look alike, we all dress alike, we all sing the same tunes, we pray out of the same prayer book — we are the same. How to heal that wound and how to allow two congregations, each in and of itself, noble and filled with goodness … how to bring them together and allow them to work in a way that benefits themselves and the community? Rabbi Nachman reminds us, fear is the one essential ingredient that must be absent in order for us to soar.

* * *

The third element I would like to address is: What is the future of the Jewish Community in North America? I will tell you this: Rabbi Levin and I have the exact same vision of the Jewish community. In an amazing conversation that I wish each of you could have experienced, with Rabbi Larry Hoffman and the boards of B’nai Jehudah and of Beth Torah at B’nai Jehudah, he and I sat in chairs facing each other and had a dialogue. And in that dialogue, we acknowledged the fact that we were pursuing the exact same goal, albeit in opposite ways. Mine was to approach it from an individual perspective, to have each individual walk their own Jewish path. His was that there be a communal conversation. Yet, in the end, the goal was exactly the same. And at that moment, I knew what the future of the Jewish community could look like.

And now I am going to make two statements that may seem crazy, that may seem frightening, that may ask you whether or not we are at earth or in heaven but I will make them nonetheless:

The Jewish community of the future will only exist if we do things together. It is time we stop talking about B’nai Jehudah and Beth Torah and Beth Shalom and K.I. and New Reform and start talking about the Jews.

We have fewer resources, we have less people, we have greater needs. It is time for us as a community to stop being tied down to the old, to stop looking back, to stop being afraid and to look forward. It is time to figure out ways we can conserve our resources, to take the best that each of us offers and give it to one another. If we don’t do that, we will fail. Oh we will still exist. We’ll sputter along and we’ll say “O, woe is us!” and we will not thrive.

Shabbat Shuvah is time for us to look toward the future. Yes, we need to ask ourselves who we have been. But much more importantly, we should ask what can we become when we become “at one” with those around us, with ourselves, with God? I am here to say to us tonight it is time for us to be at one, to figure out how to work together, not to be a part, not to work at odds, not to see each other as competition but to see each other as partners. As I walked into the building tonight, I saw three things that I wished B’nai Jehudah could do, could be better at. I wasn’t jealous, I was inspired. I hope that when you walk into B’nai Jehudah there are one or two things that will inspire you, as well.

On the morning of Sukkot, our two congregations will be praying together. It has never happened before, has it? We are going to be outside in our sukkah. We are going to be together. You know our ancestors made pilgrimage to Jerusalem on the holidays, they are called the “shalosh regalim” for a purpose ... “regalim” means pilgrimage. In the past, our ancestors went to Jerusalem from wherever they lived. They joined together and they prayed to God. We, too, are going to be together.

I pray that what began two years ago emerges into something transformational for our community. Rabbi Levin and I have had conversations. We have collaborated in a few areas, but I pray tonight will be the jumping off point … a point where we no longer look behind us but rather look ahead of us and ask, “What can we do as a community, together?”

It is time for us to no longer be afraid. The entire world is this narrow bridge and there is only one direction for us to go if we want to succeed. The secret is to not be afraid. On Rosh Hashanah morning, my sermon was titled “What If” and I spoke about the “what ifs” of life, the negatives and the positives. I conclude my remarks tonight by asking a “what if” — What if our two congregations — all of our congregations — got rid of their fears (and there are many kinds of fears that we have) and we sat down together and dreamed of what the future could look like together?

… And then together we made that happen.

What if?

I end by quoting Tom Clancy. Tom Clancy once said that the two questions that have to be asked of every novel writer are “what if?” and “what next?” So I ask tonight, what if our leadership, our clergy, our members were brave enough to sit down together. What if? I would like to see what’s next.