What I just sent to my congregation about “meaningful observance”

Earlier this week I signed my contract for the next three years at Congregation Kneseth Israel. It was just three years ago that I heard of CKI, when I was sitting in Ogunquit trying to figure out my vision of my rabbinate. The director of placement at the Academy for Jewish Religion sent me CKI’s profile and by the end of the evening, my birthday, I had finished my application. Their vision of their synagogue and what they wanted from a spiritual leader and my vision were just that similar. I was excited. It seemed “beshert”, destined.

Their vision, now my vision, is that CKI is a place for meaningful observance, lifelong learning, embracing diversity and building community. Some days it is hard to separate those out. If we teach alef-bet Hebrew to adults and the students become friends, is that lifelong learning or building community? If we welcome people with physical disabilities by rolling the Torah up the aisle on the “shtender” is that embracing diversity or meaningful observance or building community?

I began writing my vision of my rabbinate for the next three years based on these four pillars. Today I want to share “Meaningful Observance”. I view this as a work in progress and something I do in partnership with the leadership of CKI, not in a vacuum by myself. That partnership is critical to our success and part of what CKI said that they wanted when that initial packet arrived via email to my hotel in Ogunquit.

Meaningful Observance:

When I arrived in Elgin for my demo weekend, I asked the ritual chairperson what he wanted out of services. He said, “Just make them meaningful.” I later learned that when Congregation Kneseth Israel was formulating its vision and had a series of focus groups and some surveying, only 17% of the congregation was interested in services. This statistic is not surprising, when you realize that the largest growing group of Jews are the ones according to the recent Pew Study are the “nones”, those that identify as Jews but are not “religious”.

Yet, people want something. Wedding couples say they want a “spiritual” ceremony, not a “religious” one. And still they want a chuppah, a glass, and seven blessings. All “religious” trappings.  People want me as the rabbi to be the observant one but they want to eat whatever they want and do whatever they want on Shabbat.

We have several opportunities to explore the spiritual side of Judaism. Tonight the Rosh Hodesh group will meet again at 7PM. We will focus on the new month of Adar, the one in which Purim falls, so we are commanded to “Be Happy, It’s Adar.” How does this commandment color the month? How can we address Tevye’s question, “How much longer can we be joyful, even when our hearts lie panting on the floor?”

The next opportunity to explore the “spiritual side” will be Saturday afternoon, February 28^th from 4-6. We will again have a mincha-havdalah service late in the afternoon. The service will last about an hour and will again be an opportunity to experience the gift of slowing down, being a little more meditative and focusing on healing of mind and spirit. Then we will conclude with havdalah, the brief poignant, bittersweet, service that separates Shabbat from the rest of the week. And food. There has to be food. That is part of meaningful observance and building community!

Purim also we be an opportunity to experience meaningful observance. And silliness. Which can be part of meaningful observance.

We at CKI do a pretty good job of meaningful observance. We rarely if ever lack a minyan (the last time was kever avot 5774). Something must be right. We have added the choir and the band back into the mix. People seem to like my sermons or discussions. They too deepen the conversation. They too are designed to build community. We have talented lay leaders who can lead most if not all of the service, some who can read or chant Haftarah and some who can read Torah.

And yet, sometimes services feel flat. And some people are intimidated by the amount of Hebrew (or something), even with transliteration guides. Parents say they are never coming on Saturday morning. Saturday afternoon experiences designed to lower the barriers, provide a shorter approach have been meaningful for the ones who have showed but have been under-attended.

The question comes up—do we play for those who are here or the ones that are not? Do we try to figure out why people aren’t here or what they may find meaningful? What is meaningful for those who are? This is a national conversation, and not just Jews. Churches struggle with the same issues.

I am not sure I have the answers to these questions yet, but it is what keeps me awake at night. One of the questions becomes what is meaningful to you may not be to your neighbor. What was meaningful in the last generation may not be today.

Questions that cross my desk frequently include, can we Skype a minyan? What about the cameras on Shabbat? What about our cell phones? What about music/ Whose music? What is the role of music? I like the old traditional music, I don’t want to learn new melodies. Do we need a kosher kitchen? Why can’t we have a potluck? Does wine need a hecksher? Why is scotch with honey not kosher? Why is Coke without a hecksher still considered kosher? What is meaningful about any of these questions?

Recently I received several questions about G-d. One told me that Jews don’t talk about G-d. I have heard this before. When I was an undergraduate, I went to the campus rabbi who explained in good Maimonides fashion that G-d is limitless and to discuss G-d is to put a limit on G-d so that was the end of the discussion.

I won’t ever do that. As Jews it is important to discuss G-d, even if we cannot as humans fully express our feelings. Even if human language is not adequate. In the morning service we say, “If our mouths overflowed with song as the sea, if our tongues surged with joy as the waves, if our lips could praise as endlessly as the sky, if our eyes could match the sun’s radiance, if our arms had the reach of eagles’ wings, if our legs could carry us as far as the deer, even then, our God and God of our ancestors, our thanks wouldn’t even come close to matching all the gifts You have given to our fathers, to our mothers, and to us.” And yet, from my perspective, we have to continue to try. And try again and again. That is the root of meaningful observance. Not because we have to, or from a sense of Jewish guilt, or because we have always done it before even if we don’t understand it, but because we want to, because it brings us closer to G-d.

I think what it is that people want when they talk about meaningful observance is something that is positive. Some clues to lead their lives in a positive way. A non-judgmental space where people don’t have to be afraid to discuss these very deep and meaningful topics without fear of reprisals. A place where they can be happy and celebrate joyful events or where they can be sad and receive the comfort they need. These are examples of meaningful observance. It is my sacred job to create that environment. I do so in partnership with my ritual committee.

So this month I will be reading two books. Finding Joy, a Kabbalistic Approach to Finding G-d and Making Prayer Real.

What do you mean by meaningful observance. What is it to you? How do you know when you have experienced it. Come partner with me to live out the vision. Come explore prayer. Come find meaning and community.

And, thanks for putting your trust in me. I am excited about the next three years.