Do you get KNW!

There is a regular big debate that happens here in the Synagogue about what is the best way to communicate with the congregation at large. These days the main methods of communication are filtered through the internet. Our wonderful website (www.klsonline.org) and our weekly email keep many members updated about what is happening within the community and also allow me to have my say from time to time. There is a constant question about what we should do to keep those not yet on the internet - yes there are some - informed. However, if you have stumbled upon my blog deliberately or accidentaly then you are not one of those people and you should make sure that you regularly check the website to find out what exciting things are happening. If you are a member and not recieving KNW then why not - make sure the office has your email. We would also love to know what you think about all the methods of communication we use, so please comment. In the meantime here is my word of the week from KNW (Kingston News Weekly):

Rabbi’s word:
It was said by Rav Assi that young children begin their Torah studies with Leviticus and not with Genesis because young children are pure and the sacrifices explained in Leviticus are pure, so the pure studied the pure! (Leviticus Rabbah 7:3). Rav Baginsky says that it is a good job that children do not begin their studies with Leviticus and sacrifices or we might never see them again! However, it is into the book of Leviticus that we enter this Shabbat and into the foreign world of sacrifices. It is a challenge for a Rabbi to find something enlightening to say each week about the portions of Leviticus, it is hard to make them inspiring and meaningful to a modern Progressive congregation, but we do try and I hope that you will find yourself at a Saturday morning service in the next few weeks to find out how!

Vayikra is the first portion of Leviticus and it speaks of the sacrifices that are to be offered for one’s transgressions and how one must offer restitution to those against whom we have sinned. It is a reminder that in Judaism forgiveness must be an active venture, it is not enough to believe that you are sorry, not enough to wait until Yom Kippur, no instead one must go out and make a difference. While this can be an immense challenge, it can also be a blessed relief for Judaism allows the people the potential to change themselves. As one Yiddish proverb says: “You are what you are, not what you were”.

Elton John knew what he was talking about when he sung “Sorry seems to be the hardest word”, it is much easier to pretend we were wronged then admit we wronged another. Sacrifices make a certain about of psychological sense when they are viewed as a tool to help us admit our faults. In today’s world without sacrifice we have to find other means to allow us to take the first step towards reconciliation with others, and I would love to hear your ideas of what they could be. Yet, in the meantime perhaps this is our Progressive reasoning for reading Leviticus year after year, to remind us that while animal sacrifice has long been outdated we must still strive to achieve the meanings behind them.

New Mother, New Rabbi

Extract from Friday Night Sermon -Vayakhel-Pekudey

As you can see I am back! Although I have only been away for just over two months it feels like a lot longer, despite the fact that it has flown by. For me personally so much has changed since the last time I took a Friday night service. As you all know I am now a mother and the significant fact of now having a child cannot but colour the way I look at the world. Is it too soon to come back? Many of my friends have looked at me as if I was slightly insane when I told them that when my son was eight weeks old I intended to return to work, others looked at me slightly knowingly – as if to say well you will soon change your mind. But I have not, and I am here. Do not get be wrong I did ask myself was I a bad mother to return to work so soon, was it and would it be the right thing for Joshua or not. Well I refuse to answer those questions just yet, as it has only been a week and I reserve the right to withhold judgement until he is at least forty years old! But what I will say is that a week has passed and it has been wonderful to be back in the fold of the community and to have with me my beautiful boy and indeed I also believe while he will only ever have two parents, it would be nice to think that it takes a community to raise a child...

It is often part of my job to reach out to those who are missing in our community, those who do not feel like they have something unique to offer. We often find ourselves discussing how to find them, how to make them feel welcome and how to keep them. However, tonight I want to focus on something we also need to remember – we are here and we are contributing. Once in a while we all need a pat on the back, a thank you for the contributions you all make to keeping the community ticking along – even when the rabbi decides to take maternity leave!

Today we live in a society where all to often the concept of community is foreign, where belonging is seen as destroying the individual, where the demands of belonging are frowned upon. The philosopher Sartre once wrote: “hell is other people” - yes community demands walking along side others that have different opinions and different beliefs, it means giving up part of ones life, energy and self to commit to something bigger than the individual...

Those of you who are more cynical might suspect that I am buttering you up as I look for babysitters! Perhaps I am, but at the same time I know that my joy was doubled, tripled, quadrupled – there are not enough multiples for it for the joy I felt when I saw how much the community rejoiced in the birth of Joshua. It made me immensely proud to understand that I was bringing him into the large extended family. This for me is Judaism in its truest form – when we give a toast we do not say L’chai – to life, but rather in the plural L’chaim – to lives – for what in the world is a life without other lives.

In my second week back at work I will concentrate on those who stand outside and begin work again on how to draw them in, but this week, this Shabbat I want to stop for a second and say thank you. Thank you for managing without me so well, thank you for still needing me back, thank you for you kind words and thoughts to me and Steve on the birth of our son – but thank you more so for providing us with a community we could not be prouder to welcome him into. In the words of Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook who askes, who am I without you, and answers bachem ani chai – in you I live. We I hope give meaning to each other and I hope long will that continue.

I am a Bad Bad Blogger!

Slap my hand and call me a bad blogger, for that is what I have been despite the valiant efforts of our wonderful PR lady who continuously reminds me to do better... what can I say! With several sermons a week, newsletters, articles etc. to write my poor blog has been desperately and unforgivably neglected. I can but promise I will try harder and that those of you who used to read my blog will return and give me and it a second chance!

So much has happened since I last wrote I am hardly sure where to begin. Perhaps with what is the most significant piece of news and that is I am now a Rabbi Mum! My son, Joshua Shachar Rogers was born on the 22nd of January and is now two months old. Last Monday the two of us returned to work 'together'! We discovered that the Synagogue had not fallen down in my absence, thanks to the hard work of so many, but I was also pleased to discover we still have much more to do. It will be a challenge to discover how I will do it with Joshua in tow, but like every new adventure it is exciting. I will post some of my first sermon back to give you a flavour of my thinking.

Ok so like I riding a bike I have not forgotten how to type and will endeavour to return as soon as possible. Ask me some questions, suggest some topics and I will respond...

Rabbi at last!

So I am now a Rabbi! What an incredible day. Not only was the service moving and inspiring, but I am pretty sure I was the proudest student rabbi on the planet. As I stood up to get my certificate the most almight roar went up from the balacony, looking up there was my congregation!

It was a wonderful feeling to know that I am not entering the rabbincal world alone, but with this amazing, supportive and loud congregation who hired a coach to make sure that they were with me on this special day. For this I could not be more greatful.

I thought i would attach the speech I gave on Sunday as a brief insight into the event for those of you that could not make it.

Ordination Address
It was made explicitly clear that we were to speak for no longer than three minutes. I am sure that this knowledge will illicit a deep sigh of relief from the congregation who, although Nathan kept h is ordination address short, wondered whether his colleagues would as well. I can not swear on their behalf that they will, but I can assure you that we did agree to be bound by this dictum. I know there are many of you out there, my own congregation especially, who will shake their heads in disbelief that rabbis could speak but for three minutes - perhaps, some of you are thinking this is new training that Leo Baeck has introduced. Sadly no, but a realisation that if we do not keep it snappy then perhaps you will have to see us being ordained on an Israeli float!

So I have been procrastinating both in reaching this point and in writing this address for I wondered to myself what could I say in three minutes that would somehow sum up the last five years and at the same time say something profound and moving about the future. Having decided it was impossible I was suddenly struck the other morning by Pirke Avot – the sayings of the fathers. This work contains what might be considered the words of the masters of pithy wisdom. So it is to them I turn today and to one of their most famous quotes: Im ain ani li mili, Uchsh’ani laztmi mah ani. V’im lo achshav aymati. If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And if I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now when?

If I am not for myself – who will be for me? I have always been a huge advocate of the idea that we become rabbis for ourselves. I have wanted nothing more since I began this course than to stand on this bimah and be ordained as a Rabbi. I do this job and thrive on this vocation because it is what I have always believed was the best thing for me to do. But as the adage says, if I am only for myself what am I? It is through working with a community that I have learnt truly what it means to be a rabbi. If I were to answer the question what is my hope for my future rabbinate, then it is simply to continue to learn and teach, grow and develop with my community that we might together become the best we can be.

And if not know when? The question I have heard more often than any other over the last few weeks is, are you ready? How can I say yes? My Hebrew is not always as good as I would like,. I have managed to read the Torah from cover to cover, but certainly not the Talmud. I have dealt with some life cycle situations but be no means all. I have coped with with some difficult and moving pastoral moments but once again not every event which I shall have to deal with in the future.. I have worked out some of the nuances of our burial insurance scheme but I have to admit there are still many beyond me.

But are we ever ready to take the steps out into the big wide, rabbinical world? – Probably not, but if not now when? I have had five wonderful years and I recognise they are but preparation for the years that follow. – But if you will be patient with me and the rest of my colleagues and recognise that while no longer students we are not super human then I can promise you I will take the jump and put as much into our future as I have put into standing here today.

So finally in the words of the new pithy wisdom of the Jews – the Haiku:

"Can't you just leave it?" the new Jewish mother asks -- umbilical cord.
No I can not just leave it, it must be broken – for if not know, when?

Aches and Pains...

I am sorry I have been absent for a few days not only has it been a very busy time but during a rather enthusiastic burst of Israeli dancing at our Yom Ha’Atzmaut (Israeli Independence Day) party I hurt my back. It was, I must make clear before you all worry, nothing serious rather I just strained the muscles in my lower back. However, it hurt. If I walked I hurt, if I sat down it hurt, if I laughed it hurt… you get the picture. In the end I was forced to just lie down and be still. I am not one of those people that reacts well to being still, I am much more a constant movement sort of person. It was immensely frustrating to have to plan your every trip to the bathroom, every trip to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and to wince every time the phone rings because you know it means sitting up.

Now that I feel better, I realise that not only have I developed a much better understanding of what people mean when they say they have backache and how debilitating it can be. But, I feel I have had just a taste of what it means to be housebound; that I have dipped a small toe into the frustrations involved in being stuck in the house without the freedom of movement most of us enjoy. I hope that I am able to hold onto that memory and that it will make me more conscious of those in our community that suffer this confinement.

On a happier note I have now been informed that I have passed the rabbinical course and that my ordination on the 29th of June can indeed go ahead! When I first began this blog I had just handed in my thesis. I felt on the edge of a new era, now that era is speedily approaching. It is hard to imagine what will change come the 30th of June, after all I am already working full time as the Rabbi here at KLS. Will it be that I wake up on Monday morning suddenly feeling like a Rabbi? I doubt it, I think there is something healthy about feeling somewhat under-qualified for this job, after all the responsibility and privilege is immense. Rather, I suppose that I might finally feel relieved!
Starting out five years ago this time seemed so very distant. The more time that passed the more you begin to wish the time away and have the chance to step out into the big wide world. Therefore, it surprised be that on handing in the thesis I felt sad and almost bereaved. I was pleased with my work and now receiving the grade, am still very pleased, but the sadness was deeper and harder to explain. Finishing my studies is not only the end of several months of intensive research and writing, but also means the end of five years of being a rabbinic student. There can be no more excuses – ‘I am only a student’ – the future begins. It is wonderfully exciting, but it I realise that I am also sad to leave the college. I realise how much it gave me, how many friends I made and how much I learnt. Closing one door and opening another exciting door and truly embracing that, does not mean that you can not be sad about the other closing. Life exists in shades of contrasts. We understand the world through the lens of comparison, we know we like this, because we dislike that; all our understandings are in relation to something else. I understand how important the college was to me through my imminent absence from it, just as it took hurting my back to appreciate my freedom of movement.

Moments in Time

There are moments when something touches you that is so beyond this earth that it reaffirms your belief not only in God, but in the power of community. Last night we had our annual Yom Ha Shoah service (Holocaust Memorial). It was a really moving evening. Not only were we joined by a survivor but many of us remembered names of family members lost in the Holocaust. It was incredible the importance that all of us there placed on the service. The emotion moved us all. It is a wonderful testament to the Jewish community that we have not allowed the victims of the Shoah to be forgotten but that at least once a year we come together and reaffirm our promise to remember. However, we cannot leave it there; it must inspire us to play a part in ensuring it never happens again, to us, to anyone.

We try and play some role in this by opening our synagogue up once a year on England's National Holocaust Day to local schools. On this day we run a programme for secondary schools where the children have a chance to meet a survivor and explore modern issues of discrimination, leaving hopefully understanding the importance of tolerance. We have only run two years so far, joint with the local United synagogue, but the response from the children has been phenomenal. As part of our service we included several of their comments which once again reminded us of the importance of Holocaust education.

Right, I must turn my attention to Shabbat. We have a busy weekend, beginning with our monthly chaverah. Each month we have a theme for the service and dinner. Tonight it is Israel in honour of Israel’s 60th Birthday, which we will celebrate later this week. It promises to be very lively full of Israeli songs and stories. Tomorrow, Shabbat morning, the service will be taken by our Kabbalat Torah class. Kabbalat Torah was introduced as a way of allowing 15-17 year olds a means to choose to become full members of the Jewish community. There is a recognition that while Bar and Bat Mitzvahs are important children are not old enough to make the decision to accept the responsibility of being an adult Jew. As well as taking a service tomorrow which they have prepared, they will read from the Torah and explain the portion. They have spent the year preparing for this, studying Jewish philosophy and history, ethics and texts. They have been a wonderful class to teach and I am excited to watch them tomorrow and participate in what, I am sure, will be a wonderful and emotional service. I hope that all of your Shabbats are equally fulfilling, Shabbat Shalom - have a peaceful Shabbat

Is there anyone out there...?

Today I found myself involved in a long conversation with a member of my congregation. Like me, they are in their late 20s/ early 30s and find themselves wondering about Jewish expression as a person in their late 20s / early 30s. When we were children and teens Jewish identity was, in many ways, easy. If religion was not our thing there were social events, if social events were not our thing there were sports activities and if sport activities were not our thing then were study sessions... and all within a Jewish context. Today it is much harder, especially if you live south of the river.

I have to be honest, as much as I would love it not to be true I do not see that many people of my age in the synagogue unless they have children. Now I love mixing with people of different ages, circumstances and beliefs but at the same time I cannot help feeling that we are not catering enough for what has constantly been called our 'missing demographic'. By no means is this community alone I hear my colleagues voice similar concerns. But the problem is we very rarely hear from those people we would love to attract. So here is a challenge, if you are reading this and are in that group or know someone in that age group who is looking for some sort of Jewish connection get in touch and let me know what you would like to see happening in the synagogue – or outside the synagogue for you. Please be as inventive and creative as possible and perhaps we can get a discussion going…