This month we are completing the formal programming of our 60th Anniversary as a congregation.  While the first worship service actually took place on August 23, 1957 (which we will celebrate as well), our year-long celebration sought to honor the hard work of the original founding members who spent many months before that first service to conceptualize the philosophy and by-laws of Houston Congregation for Reform Judaism.

As it was for the original 37 families who set us on our way, so too it has been for us! This year-long celebration has brought our community together through work and cooperation. Our fifteen amazing events have helped us to generate a stronger sense of community, build leadership, expand congregational engagement and broaden our vision for the future. Fun-filled activities for members of all ages have enabled us to learn more about each other and even meet each other’s pets. These celebrations also enabled us to raise over $55,000. We are grateful for the support that everyone has brought to this incredible year.

As we look back on sixty years, we can take great pride in the fact that we have served the Jewish community well.  Central to our mission is an effort to embrace all who enter our doors, and for over half a century, we have remained steadfastly committed to this core value. In all that we do and in every program we plan, we strive to be intimate, inviting and inspirational.

This past year has come to remind us that Houston Congregation for Reform Judaism is a place to call your spiritual home.  We are a family of families with relationships rooted in shared experiences.  We are dedicated to the ongoing cultivation of new and dynamic ways of engagement through worship, study, social programming and acts of loving kindness.  From infants to seniors, we seek to engage individuals with opportunities to explore the values and customs of our heritage while building life-long relationships with each other, the synagogue and God.  Like a family, we seek to support each other in times of need and celebrate our blessings in times of joy.

This congregational family is central to nurturing our God-given capacity to have a positive impact on each other and the world.  This is our legacy.  It is rooted in the past, anchored in our membership today and is something worth preserving for the future.

Our year-long 60th Anniversary celebration has enabled us celebrate all that we share today, and in the spirit of honoring who we have become and what we still hope for the future, please consider leaving a legacy gift for the HCRJ of tomorrow.  Like those who stood here before us, it is now our turn to consider ways to ensure that our children and grandchildren will have the same firm commitment to Judaism and its ethical values as our ancestors did before us.

 

The Torah is written in a way that invites engagement.  The porous nature of the ancient narratives and laws encourages debate as we seek to find meaning and direction in our lives. In other words, Jewish scriptures are meant to be lived, not simply read.

Nowhere is this tradition of scriptural engagement more broadly practiced than through the Passover Seder. Each year as we recount the story of the Exodus we do so through a dramatic, spiritual reenactment.  We gather with family and friends and act out the story of our ancestral redemption with ceremonial foods and the script of the Haggadah. In this way, we try to apply the lessons of our past to our own lives today.

The central message in the Seder is this: It is our responsibility to use the lessons of our past to motivate us to address the  ills of the world today and build a better tomorrow.  The Haggadah reiterates this important message in as many ways as it can.  Through the foods we eat, materials we read and the songs we sing, we remind ourselves over and over again that “until all are free, none are free.”

In today’s world, suffering, persecution, hatred and violence are plagues we face every day.  These are the societal afflictions of our day, and while we may know that we have an obligation to lighten the burdens of those who are suffering, most of the time it is difficult to know exactly what to do.

While Passover cannot provide us with a single answer to this ongoing challenge, the customs and restrictions we observe during this weeklong festival can serve to inspire us to address the hardships that surround us.  Here are some things to contemplate as we engage in the rituals that shape our holiday observance.

Consider the Seder meal as a teaching tool for social justice.  The words of the Haggadah are designed to inspire us to take action. To that end, perhaps there is a place in each of our Seders this year where we can come up with a few personal goals for addressing the needs of the world around us.

Our dietary restrictions can also serve to remind us of suffering in the world, and I am not referring to the kind of suffering that comes from eating too much matzah.  In depriving ourselves of certain kinds of foods, we have an opportunity to reflect on the fact that there are many who go without food every day.  Thus, our sacrifices at the table can be a way of encouraging us to respond to the message in our Haggadah:  “Let all who are hungry come and eat.”

If your family rids the home of hametz, please bring your non-perishable foods that are not Kosher for Passover to the temple.  We will send the foods we collect to a local food bank.  If you wish to contribute to a hunger program during this season, please consider making a donation to Mazon: A Jewish Response to Hunger.  Information regarding such donations can be found in this bulletin on page 6.

Our Haggadah teaches us that it is our responsibility each year to relive the redemption of our past in order to help bring about a redemption for the future.  Allowing our Seder rituals and dietary restrictions help us in this imaginative journey is just the beginning.  What we do with what we learn, represents a beginning as well.  Let us make a special effort this year to be instrumental in fashioning a bridge toward freedom, peace and happiness for all peoples.

 

In the Book of Genesis, there is mention of a character whose identity is all but invisible to the unfolding story of creation.  His name is Enoch. Enoch is the father of Methuselah (whose biblical claim to fame is having lived for 969 years), but other than that, very little is said about him.  The sages, however, were drawn to Enoch for the same reason they were drawn to Elijah the Prophet.  Neither Enoch nor Elijah dies, each of them is “taken by God.”

According to the bible, “Enoch walked with God; then he was no more, for God took him” (Genesis. 5:24). This is all we know, and yet, Enoch, whose silent presence in the Book of Genesis is unremarkable at best, comes to be known as a man whose quiet and unpretentious character epitomizes what it means to put your heart and soul into a job.

The embellishment of Enoch’s story takes place through the writings of our sages, who creatively fill in the back story of his life by describing him as a humble cobbler who, with every stitch on every shoe creates a mystical union with God. These stories paint the picture of a man who, through the love and attention he puts into his work is able to stitch heaven and earth together.  Thus, by giving his heart and soul to every measure of his efforts and in striving to provide quality and satisfaction to those who would be receiving the fruits of his labors, Enoch’s work becomes holy work and his efforts become a spiritual endeavor.

Each of us is familiar with the beauty that comes when the labor of our hands is invested with the love of our hearts.  There is something sacred and holy about projects that are driven by our desires to make the world a better place.  Such projects enable us to understand the concept of “a labor of love.”

This year we bid farewell to an individual, who like Enoch, operated with little fanfare.  Our maintenance man, Jerry Propri, who has been quietly and humbly taking care of our temple for almost a decade, has retired.  For those who have ever met Jerry, you could not help but like him.  He always has a smile on his face, and his heart is filled with boundless love for the temple and the work he does here.

He has never treated his responsibilities at HCRJ as a job, rather he has considered his work a sacred task and has poured his heart and soul into everything he has ever done for us.  Like Enoch, Jerry has helped stitch a little bit of heaven and earth together.

On Friday night, February 24, we will honor Jerry and his family with a special service.  Please join us as we formally say “thank you” for all they have done. Jerry’s work has been a labor of love, and for his boundless devotion to our congregation, we will be forever grateful.

 

At the HCRJ board retreat in August, our temple leadership decided that a primary goal for the coming year would be to focus on the growth of our congregation. Our 60^th Anniversary provides us with a lens through which we can consider our past as we dream about our future.  Yet, as my sermon on Rosh HaShanah pointed out, growth can be defined and measured in a variety of ways.

Growth can be defined as the process of increasing in amount, value or importance.  Plants grow; companies grow; people grow; ideas grow. We often use this definition of growth when we are trying to expand. From a congregational perspective, this concept of growth might help us in our efforts to increase our membership and broaden our presence in the community.

Growth can also be defined as the process of developing or maturing physically, mentally or spiritually, as in:  “we grow wiser with age.” This definition reflects a more internal process, and from this perspective we might direct energy and resources toward engaging members in deeper and more meaningful ways.

Regardless of how we choose to define our growth, it is always important to determine what we want to count as we seek to measure who we are and what we hope to become. In the words of Albert Einstein, “Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.”

As a congregation, we need to determine what is most important for us to count and measure as we monitor our growth.  What is it that we value most as a congregation?  Do we value our intimacy?  If so, counting numbers of members may not be our primary matrix.  Do we value the dynamics of our programming?  If so, we need to consider the fact that programming demands resources, staffing and financial support.

The truth is that there are countless possibilities regarding how we can measure and monitor our growth as a congregation, and as Einstein suggests, there are many growth markers that can be very difficult to identify and measure.  In the coming year, our leadership has presented us with a threefold task as we begin to envision a long-term strategy for our future:  We need to consider what counts and what does not in terms of how we hope to evolve as a community; we need to consider ways to measure the growth we seek once we define it; and we need to engage as many members as possible as we seek to grow together.

 

Every year, Veterans Day represents a way to honor our veterans who boldly put their lives on the line to protect the values of our nation. These men and women are our parents, grandparents, siblings, children and more. Their service weaves us together into a broader patriotic community that is much like a giant family. We are proud of who they are, and we are indebted to them for their boundless dedication to serve.

They place their lives in harm’s way to ensure that the liberties we enjoy are not threatened by foreign powers. Their military service is something we should never take for granted.

On Friday night, November 11, we will honor the veterans of our nation with a sacred service. At this Sabbath worship service, veterans of various wars will share their stories. Additionally, we will honor them at the oneg with a special photo gallery of our men and women in uniform.

If you have a story you wish to share or a photo that we can display, please contact the office immediately. We hope to honor every one of our members who served in the military – past, present and future.

May the dedication and valiance demonstrated by the men and women who serve us in this capacity inspire us to uphold the virtues of our nation as we work collectively to be a beacon of liberty and harmony for all the world to see

According to a study which was recently published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, there is strong empirical evidence to support the idea that experiences of awe play an important role in how an individual perceives the self.  This study suggests that brief experiences of awe seem to promote shifts away from a self-centered view of the world toward one which includes the needs of those around us.

Awe is a familiar feeling. There is awe in birth.  There is awe in death.  There is awe in every precious second of life in between. Awe reminds us of our fragility.  Awe is startling, miraculous, bewildering!

A silent, star-filled sky; a morning sunrise; the vast seemingly endless stretch of the Grand Canyon; each can take our breath away. Each places us at the edge of a mystifying expanse and forces us to consider ourselves within the context of a reality that we cannot fully comprehend.

In the birth of a child; the passions of love; an act of kindness and compassion; awe is there to remind us of our human connectivity; humble us in our vulnerability; invite us to be grateful for life.

Awe weaves reverence and amazement into a single moment.  We experience epiphany.  We realize that we are part of something much greater than ourselves.  In awe we experience transformation: an instantaneous shift in understanding of who we are and where we stand in the world.  From the Jewish perspective, awe has the capacity to inspire, illuminate and motivate through a powerful emotional mix of trepidation and reverence.  Humility, fragility, epiphany, reverence, gratitude and fear are all experience in awe, and it is for this reason that the first ten days of the Jewish calendar year are referred to as the Days of Awe.

The Hebrew word for awe is Yireh, which according to Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, is not only a feeling – it is a way of understanding.  For Heschel, awe enables us to perceive in our everyday lives glimpses of divine magnitude.  From this perspective, we need not stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon to experience awe.  There is awe in the peaceful, quiet, solitude of a sleeping baby. There is awe in the frenetic, joyful welcome of a dog greeting you at the door after a long day at work.  There is awe in the mysterious random acts of cats. There is awe in watching bees making honey and in the systematic ways that colonies of ants build their mounds. There is awe in fire and awe in ice. Awe can even be found in the consideration of refrigerator magnets.

Each of these common experiences may not seem to have the gravity and the unfathomability that is immediately present when we stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon, but if we pause in the moment and allow ourselves to remember our childhood curiosity and amazement regarding turning on a light switch or the act of trying to see what surfaces a magnet can stick to – there, in that place of bemusement – in that place of wonder – is the awe.  From the mundane to the majestic, from ants making mounds to earthquakes moving mountains, everything we experience in life has the capacity to evoke that sense of mystery, wonder, magic and amazement.

Of course, our ability to experience awe is not like switching on and off a light bulb. There are obstacles and hindrances that constantly distract us from connecting to the world and with each other.  The rigors and stresses of work; the insanity of daily traffic; the noise of endless obligations – all of these and so much more divert our attention and distract us from seeing the miraculous in the mundane.

In order to experience more awe in our lives we need to cultivate a daily mindset.  We need to find ways to be inspired and connected to the glories of creation all the time – not just in moments of drama or magnificence – but in the minute by minute mundane moments that surround us in our daily interactions.

As we prepare for the High Holy Days and the Days of Awe, we are invited by our faith and our tradition to pay heed to what matters most in our lives. Take the time.  Commit yourself to seeking moments of awe every day and rejoice in the mystery and marvels of the world.

Eight years ago, a group of woman in our congregation decided that they wanted to add an activity to our annual Mitzvah Day.  Each of these women loved to knit and wanted to direct their craft toward the fulfillment of a mitzvah.  They set up a table at Mitzvah Day and spent the day knitting caps for premature babies.  By the end of the day, this group not only produced a respectable number of baby caps, they started a program that continues to be one of the strongest mitzvah programs in our congregation.

Our HCRJ Knitzvah Group has been meeting on the second and fourth Tuesday of every month for eight years.  Their mission is to knit for a cause, and over the course of eight years they have knitted blankets for shelters, scarves and hats for the homeless, nests for bird habitats and lap blankets for our members who find themselves for extended stays in the hospital.

Little did they know it, but our knitters were weaving a social tapestry that included faith, community, health and social justice. What started as a knitting circle was rapidly becoming a central part of the mitzvah arm of our congregation.

In 2013, our devoted group of knitters took on the ambitious task of knitting 300 lap blankets for the residents of Seven Acres for Chanukah.  The project was so large that the HCRJ Knitzvah Group enlisted the help of knitters from congregations all over the city.  Together this knitting collective not only accomplished their goal of knitting 300 lap blankets, but they singlehandedly wove together a network of friendships that transcended the walls of our individual congregations.

This program was so well received that the knitting of blankets needed a new mitzvah to fulfill. This new project would come to be known as “Misheberach Blankets,” which would bless every member of HCRJ if they ever found themselves in the hospital for an extended period of time.

This past year the Knitzvah Group decided to broaden the reach of their efforts into the realm of social justice. Inspired by the words of the Rev. Harvey Clemons Jr. last Yom Kippur, the Knitzvah Group ventured into Houston’s Fifth Ward to teach elderly women in that community how to knit.  Photos of our communities knitting together may be found on page 6 of this bulletin.

According to some recent studies, the knitting of our Knitzvah Group may be doing more than healing the world; it might also be healing themselves.  According to Dr. Herbert Benson, a pioneer in mind/body medicine and the author of “The Relaxation Response,” the repetitive action of needlework can induce a relaxed state like that associated with meditation and yoga. The focused repetitive movements of knitting and crocheting can lower heart rate and blood pressure and reduce harmful blood levels of the stress hormone cortisol.

As it turns out, being part of the Knitzvah Group is a blessing to the health, the soul and the world at large.  What other group can claim so many benefits!  We are proud of our knitters and all the mitzvahs they continue to fulfill.

 

There comes a point in our lives when most of us begin to think about what value we have added to the world. With any luck, as we journey from childhood to maturity, we find ways to touch the lives of others and make a difference in the world.  These enduring gifts remain long after we have departed this earth and hopefully define how we are remembered for generations to come.

Congregations, like individuals, are concerned with the preservation and perpetuation of enduring values.  Like individual legacies, a congregational legacy longs for ways to make a difference in the world.

Next year, our congregation will be celebrating its 60^th anniversary.  As we look back on sixty years, we can take great pride in the fact that we have served the Jewish community well.  Central to our mission is an effort to embrace all who enter our doors, and for over half a century, we have remained steadfastly committed to this core value. In all that we do and in every program we plan, we strive to be intimate, inviting and inspirational.

Houston Congregation for Reform Judaism is a place to call your spiritual home.  We are a family of families with relationships rooted in shared experiences.  We are dedicated to the ongoing cultivation of new and dynamic ways of engagement through worship, study, social programming and acts of loving kindness.  From infants to seniors, we seek to engage individuals with opportunities to explore the values and customs of our heritage and faith while building life-long relationships with each other, the synagogue and God.  Like a family, we seek to support each other in times of need and celebrate our blessings in times of joy.

This congregational family is central to nurturing our God-given capacity to have a positive impact on each other and the world.  This is our legacy.  It is rooted in the past, anchored in our membership today and is something worth preserving for the future.

L’Dor VaDor is the Hebrew phrase which alludes to the legacies we leave.  It means “From Generation to Generation.”  Over the course of the past year, HCRJ joined Jewish institutions throughout the city of Houston in launching a major legacy gift giving program.  Our program is called the L’Dor VaDor Legacy League.

Please consider leaving a financial gift in your will to HCRJ.  These gifts will help build an endowment that will support sacred programming for generations to come.  In the coming months, you will be receiving information on ways to leave a legacy gift for the future.

As we prepare to look back and celebrate sixty years, we have a wonderful opportunity to plan for the future as well. Like those who stood here before us, it is now our turn to consider ways to ensure that our children and grandchildren will have the same firm commitment to Judaism and its ethical values as our ancestors did before us.

 

In the Book of Deuteronomy, we read:  [God] subjected you to the hardship of hunger and then gave you manna to eat. . . in order to teach you that man does not live on bread alone. . . (Deuteronomy 8:3).  This passage draws a connection between the consumption of bread and the human spirit, as it seeks to remind us that there is more to eating than the mere cessation of hunger.

Most of us can fully relate to this concept, and we articulate it on a regular basis when we say, “Oh my God!  This is delicious.”  Others, like me, could actually “live on bread alone” and be very content.  All kidding aside, food and faith go hand in hand in Judaism, and bread in particular plays a very central role (pun intended).  Bread not only fills the belly, it also enriches the human spirit. Every culture has bread.  Every faith includes bread in ritual practices.

In Judaism, bread holds a sacred place in every single meal we eat. Traditionally, there is a special blessing (the Motzi) that is recited ONLY when bread is going to be consumed.  For any meal or snack that does not include bread, shorter blessings are recited before and after the meal.

Bread is also associated with the study of Torah.  Our sages saw each as being part of a daily diet for the body and mind when they taught, “Im ain kemach ain Torah – Without flour (dough) there is no Torah.”  In other words, physical and spiritual nourishment are inextricably linked.

Indeed, few foods provide more emotional sustenance than bread, and for this reason references to bread linking us to God are found throughout the Bible. One such reference occurs in the Book of Numbers, as God commands the Israelites to leave a portion (challah) of thick dough as a sacrifice from every loaf of bread they eat.

When you enter the land to which I am taking you and you eat the bread of the land, you shall set a portion [challah] aside as a gift to the Lord. . .You shall make a gift to the Lord from the first yield of your baking throughout the ages. (Numbers 15:20-21)

Here, bread serves as a form of daily sacrifice. The word challah means “portion,” referring to the portion of bread that was sacrificed to God as a gift of gratitude. This commandment became a formalized practice, and during Temple times, one twenty‑fourth of any dough being baked would be removed and given to the priests on the Sabbath. Today, Jewish bakers uphold this tradition and tear a small lump of risen dough from any type of bread and burn it while reciting a special blessing.

This simple ritual has remained an ongoing way for us to express gratitude for the bread we eat in a very physical way. Most of us, however, do not bake our own bread and for this reason, this ancient sacrifice is rarely experienced by the vast majority of modern day Jews.

Another bread-related sacrifice which is rarely practiced today is called the “Counting of the Omer.”  The Torah commands us to count bundles of grain (the omer) every day for seven weeks from the second day of Passover to the festival of Shavuot. It is a custom which, once again, connects spiritual sustenance to physical sustenance.  Today, Counting of the Omer has more to do with cultivating the human spirit than it does with cultivating the barley harvest, and Jews who observe it use this period as a formal way to count their blessings on a daily basis.

We are currently in this period of ritual counting, and among the many blessings we count, bread should be included. After all, our week-long abstention from bread during Passover serves to remind us how much we miss bread when we cannot have it.  Yet, our abstinence each year is voluntary. There are countless people in the world and millions in our own country for whom a single serving of bread is a blessing which is never taken for granted.

At this season, where ritual sacrifice and food are so central to our holiday observances, we need to consider ways to translate the mandates of our faith into changes in the world. Perhaps these archaic rituals can help us renew our ancient covenantal relationship between the consumption of bread and personal sacrifice.  Perhaps our age old traditions can provide us with a way of addressing the pains of human starvation in the world.

There are countless organizations and causes which strive to alleviate hunger.  During this period of the Counting of the Omer, please consider supporting at least one.  Thus, as we count our blessings, we can be a blessing to those who are literally living on bread alone.