Part A:

Reflections on a good morning. Women of the Wall Shabbat. A highlight of my rabbinic career and in the shadow of disturbing news about this very anniversary in Israel.

What if you have been a member for an organization for 30 years and they are celebrating a milestone anniversary. What if that organization was started in the same year that you and your husband got married? What if since their last milestone anniversary, and ours, we have proudly worn their tallitot. One in silver for the 25 anniversary and one in shades of pink, because after all, I am the Engerizer Rabbi?

You organize a service to commermorate the 30 anniversary of Women of the Wall. You plan. You cajole. You organize. And in a small congregation of about 120 families, you have 28 people sign up to do various things. It all looks good on paper. Torah readers? Check. Aliyot? Check. English readings? Check. Musaf? Sermon? Check. Buttons? Check. Special Kiddush? Check.

Yet, I will admit it. I was nervous. What if it doesn’t go according to plan? Does it ever? Sometimes it is even better. How do you capture a spiritual high. A putting of all the pieces together. I felt like I was smiling and beaming and crying all morning long. How do you sustain that feeling?

As I began to lead services, I wrapped myself in my Women of the Wall tallit. A gift from my husband, who sadly was not present because of an injury. I thought about the first time I wrapped myself in a tallit—as a college student. It felt like being wrapped in G-d’s Shechinah. In G-d’s light. Safe and secure, like a warm blanket. It still does. But not every woman dons a tallit.

In the early part of the service, there are many lines about every living being, every breath praising G-d. Kol haneshma tehilah. And it is true. Usually I think of that as people who aren’t Jewish or the animals and the trees. But today, it seemed calling to say, everyone…male and female. We all praise G-d.

We had asked some of our Shabbat regulars to take parts and they rose to the occasion. Then we asked any woman who wanted to join us. We added Rabbi Maralee Gordon who I went to rabbinical school for some Torah reading and Cantorial Leader Ilana Axel to help us learn the chorus of the Women of the Wall song, Kumi Ori.

We had two of our Shabbat regular guys make sure every one felt welcome.

Our first volunteers in the order of the service were two little girls who have mastered leading the Sh’ma and V’ahavta. What beautiful young voices. Then we did Michamocha to Debbie Friedman’s And the Women Dancing with their Timbrels…and the whole house felt the power of standing at the sea rejoicing. While Ilana was terrific I missed standing with my daughter who was home playing nursemaid to my husband. This is her favorite setting of Michamocha.

We had chosen deliberately to focus on women-compoaed music—Debbie Friedman, Shefa Gold, Nurit Hirsch, Audrey Abrams, Hannah Shenesh.

After Michamocha, a women who hadn’t led at CKI before, but had grown up at Olin Sang Ruby Union Institute led the Amidah with the matriarchs. It was beautiful.

Her daughter, the next CKI Bat Mitzvah, led the Torah service. The next generation leading. From generation to generation. She did great. It built her confidence.

We learned Kumi Ori, a new song commissioned by Women of the Wall and ably taught by Ilana. Ancient words of Isaiah written in the feminine form. Arise and shine. Your light will shine! My sermon was well received. (check back tomorrow for that) Some thought it was the most powerful they had heard me do.

Then we got to the aliyot. We had some long time members go first. They were meaningful. And confident. And powerful. The portions were read capably and beautifully by my friend and colleague, Rabbi Maralee Gordon.

The next aliyah I read, about dedicating the mishkan, the tabernacle on the first day of the first month of the second year. That first day of the first month is Rosh Hodesh Nissan, my husband’s and my anniversary. How perfect for this Women of the Wall Shabbat.

Then a newer woman who joined and learned alef bet did the blessings. Was this another shehecianu moment? No. She had done it before. But it is a real victory for CKI—she set out to learn Alef-Bet, mastered the aliyot blessings and was teary eyed at the power of standing there.

Next up—a couple that is new to CKI. She converted to Judaism and had never had an aliyah or a Bat Mitzvah. Definitely a first and a shehechianu moment. Like a Bat Mitzvah. If only we had had candy to throw! Now not a dry eye on the bimah. Then a brand new member. Someone who decided to re-affiliate with the Jewish community after the massacre in Pittsburgh. She hasn’t missed a Saturday morning since.

And then…a 96 year old who had had the first aliyah at CKI in 1960. WOW! We wheeled the Torah on a moveable shtender right to her. She didn’t get out of her wheelchair but her voice rang out as she confidently chanted the blessings. She got a shehechianu too.

Another woman read haftarah, powerfully in English, dramatically as a theatre person. This was a first for her—so another shehechianu! Still another led musaf, using her own favorite tunes.

All in all, every living being praised G-d., male and female. We provided access to Jewish prayer and to Torah to everyone who entered. I can’t say how every one felt but based on comments, it was a powerful, important moment, for individuals and for the community as a whole. I know that people lingered over a lovely kiddush sponsored by one of the women and that people enjoyed the challah lovingly baked by the Rosh Hodesh Challah baking group.

This morning, this moment was definitely a highlight of my rabbinic career. It was a WoW moment. And in the backdrop of Israel where women are still struggling for access to our most holy site, the Kotel, the Western Wall. Let us pray that one day, every woman will be able to praise G-d loudly and proudly without a fear of being beaten. Then our light will really shine.