Four and a half years ago, on an ordinary Shabbat in October, Jewish life in America took a radical if historic turn. That was the day that an armed gunman entered the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh. The evil gunman now stands trial—why it takes so long to hold someone accountable is a question I can’t answer, yet as a consequence, the organized Jewish and non-Jewish communities are discussing antisemitism in a much more robust way. It is once again part of the national conversation.
Another one of my teachers, Rabbi Eliezer Diamond, is facing a serious health crisis. Rabbi Diamond taught Talmud and rabbinics at the Jewish Theological Seminary. Once upon a time, I was the mashgiach or kashrut supervisor at Camp Ramah in the Berkshires. Rabbi Diamond was the scholar in residence one summer and when questions arose that exceeded my knowledge, I turned to him for his expertise.
On Thursday, Cantor Bitton, Rabbi Posen, and I spent four hours at the mikveh welcoming five new Jews to our community. Each conversion and affirmation ceremony was beautifully touching; appropriately, the final immersion of the day was with a darling baby boy. I had fun talking to him in my best falsetto and was rewarded with the sweetest and most heart-warming of smiles.
On Wednesday, Jonathan Omer-Man “shuffled off this mortal coil.” That deeply powerful phrase, from Shakespeare, is an acknowledgement of life’s difficulties; contained within it is the hope that whatever comes next will not be so fraught. Yet waiting for joy, like waiting for love, is a fool’s mission; both are ever present, requiring our openness to receive as well as a shift in our perspective.
I am feeling some tenderness and a sense of profound loss, for today, one of our great leaders, Harold Kushner left us, while yesterday another one, Jonathan Omer-Man entered hospice. This Shabbat, we read a double Torah portion, Acharei Mot-Kedoshim. When taken together, the names of these two parshiot can be read as after death, there is holiness.
It was the day before Pesach and Laura’s friend Froukje came to visit. She’s Dutch, lives in southern Oregon, and true to her heritage, she brought Laura a gift of tightly-closed, striated orange tulips. At the bottom of each petal, the orange shifted colors to a gentle butter yellow. The tulips were exquisite. It was touching to be able to throw a glance at them during our seders. Portland may be experiencing a delayed Spring, but the tulips weren’t much bothered. They were already prepared to do their job.
Today is Robert Steele’s last day as our security guard, which has led me to meditate on the attention he has given us while watching over our security. He deserves our thanks and praise for how fully and sincerely he was engaged in his mission here. There are people who view their work as a job, leaving it behind them when they go home, but there are others who find a deep sense of purpose in their work. Robert was the latter type; we were so fortunate because of that commitment.
