It is said that Rabbi Akiba had thousands of students. It is said that 24,000 students died suddenly of the plague on 33rd day of the counting of the Omer, because they did not treat each other with respect or kindness. The 33rd day of the Omer is called Lag B’omer is still celebratde as a day to recognize teachers and scholars, often with picnics and archery competitions and visits to scholars’ graves. Today we mourn for another reason. Today we mourn Rabbi Everett Gendler who taught us all so much about living joyously and about Omer. How sadly appropriate. I wonder how many disciples Rabbi Everett Gendler, z’l had. 

The memories keep flooding back. Let’s start with two basic thoughts. Everett Gendler had a profound impact on my life and the life of my family. I would not be married to Simon or the rabbi I am today without Rabbi Everett Gendler. I worked directly with Everett from 1983-1991 and remained a congregant to his retirement in 1995. 

Rabbi Gendler had an exquisite and precise use of language and the sentences just flowed dripping wisdom off his tongue. And yet, he was a consummate listener, meeting people wherever they were in their spiritual journey, whether that was a child or a seasoned adult. He loved music and was attuned to every nuance, especially if it was Mozart. 

Others have written and spoken about some of his unique ritual and liturgical events. Some of them I still practice in my own congregation as the rabbi. 

Sleep services and discussions of going to bed at night. Star services. Snow services. Ones I have loved and try to do seasonally. The annual Ya’akov Lantern service, delighting both the kids and adults with intricately carved pumpkins suitable for Sukkot, Halloween or Thanksgiving. Many thought that was a mistake, giving into the dominant culture of misappropriating it. But really Rabbi Gendler was a force for Universal Judaism. Pumpkins, grown in his own expansive garden were just one of those tools to acknowledge that if you light a candle, or many of them, it is not so scary in the dark as the nights grow longer. 

The second day of Rosh Hashanah would find a hearty band on the beach at Plum Island, savoring the Rosh Hashanah sunrise with shofar calls and seagull calls,  ocean breezes, readings and a potluck feast to welcome the New Year, the birthday of the world. Every year finds me somewhere, near water doing the same thing! 

And who can forget the sunwheel, turning each new season. Originally created for the Blessing of the Sun while turning at Endicott College on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean at dawn, it was too beautiful to lock away for 28 years. Instead, the congregation hauls out the sunwheel each Friday closest to the new season. It is a thing of beauty and a joy forever with its rainbow hues and alef bet acrostic. 

Everett was a maverick, a radical ahead of his time. He marched with King, but who remembers that it was Everett who introduced Heschel to King. He worked tirelessly for peace, causing other Jews some pain and consternation especially around Israel. I saw him booed once which made a lasting impression with my youth groupers about integrity. He was ex-communicated after an ad appeared in the New York Times signed by many rabbis promoting peace. Make no mistake, that was no accident that happened in the Holiday Inn in Tewksbury, Everett’s backyard. That did not stop him. He worked with the Dalai Lama on peace and on maintaining a community in exile. His commitment to justice mirrored my own sense of being a bridge builder and peacemaker.  

He was concerned about the environment. Many consider him the father or the grandfather of the Jewish Climate movement. While that is international, it is important to know that on a very local level, he designed an implemented the first solar ner tamid which was lit in 1978. Yes, 1978! One day, and I talk about it every year, I am hopeful that we can get it done at my congregation. This maybe the real year. 

Perhaps the event that I have carried most fully into whichever congregation I am serving is the idea of the Omer. For 50 days we count the Omer. From the second night of Passover to Shavuot. What differentiates Everett’s practice was he actually planted. Some years winter wheat. Or winter rye. Or winter barley. This is a great educational activity and quickly draws the kids in. And the adults as well. We’ve now added a part of actually feeding the cows on our prairie with this dedicated food. https://mayantikvah.blogspot.com/2019/09/earth-etude-for-elul-21-little-omer-on.html  

This year the winter rye is up and we will dedicate to the memory of Everett. 

But this is personal.  

It is Everett who introduced me to my beshlert, my destined one. It is Everett we told first when we were engaged. It is Everett who called after Sarah was born, named Sarah, (twice), celebrated Gabrielle’s Bat Mitzvah and three kids’ confirmations’ services. It is with Everett I first worked through some #MeToo moments. It is Everett who helped me mourn my first fiancé. It is Everett who kicked off a regional youth group event on ethics with a speech about someone taking jewelry from the gift counter. It is Everett who interrupted a Bar Mitzvah so that the kid could go home and get his forgotten speech, Then when that kid got lost in a later year on a ski trip, he was so compassionate instead of anger, making the kid study the map until noon. It is Everett who suggested 3-year-old Sarah blow shofar for Ne’ilah and she did. And still does. 

It is Everett who enabled me to be the wife and the rabbi I am today. 

And most appropriately today, as we begin to approach Omer, it was Everett who taught us all how to dance under the stars with a Maypole for Lag B’omer.