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President's Yom Kippur Appeal

10/26/2016 02:07:39 AM

Oct26

For those of you who do not know me, I am Audrey Rosenblatt and I am the President of this congregation. It is my honor to stand up here and speak to you on Yom Kippur, with what is traditionally called the “Yom Kippur Appeal.” If I might be so bold as to turn the Appeal a bit on its ear, I'd like to put forth that, there is something we need, in addition to money, to sustain this community. That something is you, along with your time and your talents. We come to synagogue on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur so that we can review the past year, make ourselves right with the world, and have a fresh start for the new year. We think about how we could have done things better or differently; perhaps we think about things we didn't do but should have, or things we did do but should not have. We think back beyond the year, perhaps even doing a full life review. Our lives are so busy, and this is one of the few chances we have to stop, or at least slow down, and listen to what is in our hearts. Since this is first of three years that I will be speaking on Yom Kippur, I thought I would slow things down a bit and tell you about who I am, and how I got here. I am a first generation American, on my father's side. My father was born in Frankfurt, Germany, in 1924. When he was 14, just one year past his bar mitzvah, my father was a witness to Kristallnacht. After that night of broken glass, in November 1938, my grandparents were finally convinced they needed to get out of Germany. A distant cousin in Philadelphia, whom they had never met, applied for a visa for them, and declared himself as the family's support until they were able to support themselves, paving their way to the United States. That thin thread, which ultimately led to the fact that I exist, has informed my entire life. Joel and I live in Teaneck, where we moved 30 years ago, from Queens, where we were both born and raised. We have 2 sons, Glen and Aaron, both of whom became bar mitzvah in the spot where I am now standing. They both went on to be confirmed here as well. We joined this synagogue, which was then known as Temple Sholom, 24 years ago this fall, in 1992. We came here, like most of you, as a family looking to belong to a community where we could have a spiritually uplifting experience as well as a high quality Jewish education for our sons. We had been very active in another synagogue before we came here, but it was a struggling congregation and eventually, a few years after we left, closed its doors. We shopped for temples and found Temple Sholom, with its young rabbi, Neal Borovitz. We noticed that there were many other families with young children, as well as many warm and welcoming members. Many of you might remember Rivkah Craig, who used to stand in the social hall and hand out small toys to all of the young children, every Shabbat after services. That sealed the deal to our joining this shul. Once we joined, after having been so involved at our last congregation, we made up our minds that we would not get so involved here. We would just come to services and bring our kids to Hebrew School. We would be stealth members. I'm not so sure that has really worked out for us! People thought we were nuts. Why would we come here, when there were many perfectly good synagogues in Teaneck? There was no one to car pool with for Hebrew School. When Aaron was in 7th grade, Joel left his office in Manhattan at 3 PM every Monday, to drive him to Hebrew School because I had gone back to work full-time that year and could not take him. Were we crazy? Perhaps. But we knew a good thing when we saw it, and we knew that this was where we belonged. This community has supported us through many challenging times, including when Aaron, who is an officer in the Marines Corps, was deployed to Afghanistan. We have shared our good times and our not so good, and shared other people's celebrations and challenges as well. We have found some of our best and closest friends here. We feel an obligation to be there for them, as they have been there for us. That obligation is something we feel good about, it is not a burden to us. Thin threads, the same as were responsible for my family's survival and exit from Germany, come with a responsibility. In order to be able to live in a country that allows you free practice of your religion, you have to make sure that other people also have that opportunity, both on a global scale, and on a community level. We are that community level " this congregation. Keeping this community thriving, so that we can all support each other, and so that those who aren't even members yet can have a place to find the same, is our responsibility. Now here comes that money thing. I challenge you to donate to the Yom Kippur appeal, in an amount that is meaningful to you and your family, so that we can sustain this community. We gather in this building and we love this building. Like our homes, it requires maintenance and that care costs money. As important as that physical structure is, it is only a representation of our community. We need to care about the building because it facilitates our community. But, more than that, because on a daily basis, it is filled with people that we care about, our rabbis and cantor, our religious school teachers, our office staff, our custodians. It is not just bricks, and a roof, and electricity and plumbing " it is people that love this community and dedicate their lives to caring for it. Our support of this building is one way we demonstrate our care for them. The building represents a means to an end, a place you can donate your money and see the tangible results everyday, something you may not be able to do with other charitable donations that you make. Where else will you get access to pastoral care 24/7? Your donations go toward providing a warm, nurturing environment for our children to not only receive a religious education, but to become energized and excited about their Jewish lives. Adult education, camp scholarships, musical programs such as the one on Selichot and others throughout the year, all of these result from your support. Programs for young families as well as our Renaissance program all keep our community together. I am well aware that it might be difficult to find extra money to donate above dues and that is why I used the word “meaningful.” I am asking you to search within, to determine what is important to you. If you would like to give more, but simply cannot right now, I challenge you to give of your time. Get involved, engage with us. Help organize an event, or simply come to one. Come to an Adult Ed class, get involved in social action, join Brotherhood or Sisterhood. Because the truth is, aside from the money, we need you, your time, and your talent. Come to Torah Study, organize an outing, come with us to the Jewish Home in River Vale on Mitzvah Day in November and sing with us. Join the membership committee, or Ways and Means, sign up to sell gift cards. Come and worship with us on Shabbat. There are many different paths to “meaningful.” These things take time, and we are all busy and I know that feeling of not having enough time. No one has “enough” time " I don't even know what “enough” time means. Frankly, we all have the same amount of time. 24 hours per day, 7 days per week. But, as with our money, we make choices about how we spend it. None of us has more time than another person, it's all in how we prioritize. This summer, there was a wonderful video that was sent to me by several different people, detailing how every congregation comes equipped with at least one member, an extremely important person, who is there to get things done. Everyone believes in this person and is counting on them. The video went so far as to give us their name. “Someone Else.” Thank God for Someone Else " because he will donate and she will volunteer. I know that Someone Else is here right now, sitting in the congregation. You are the person who leaps into action every time there is an idea that starts with the words “Somebody Should.” The truth is, it takes a village. I am asking you to be “someone else.” We need “you.” We need your passion, your interest, your involvement, your energy, and your commitment. In Genesis 2:18, we are told “Lo tov heyot ha'adam levado,” it is not good for man to dwell alone. We need companions and community support. I challenge you to be that support, be one of our community's thin threads. I challenge you to find that Jewish spark deep in your soul, to jump in, and get involved. Figure out what makes a difference in the long term and what is for the greater good. Figure out what is Jewishly meaningful to you and to your family. My wish to be stealth did not hold in the long term because of the meaning I found in giving back to a community that had given so much to me. I'd like to wish everyone G'mar Chatimah Tova, may you be sealed in the Book of Life. I wish for all of you a year full of sweetness, health, and meaning.
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