By Rabbi Michael Berk
One of the best known rabbis in America, Harold Shuweiss, had heart surgery many years ago. He wrote movingly of the moment he regained consciousness after the anesthesia had worked its way out of his system. He noticed the tubes and wires connecting him to machines which softly hummed in the background; he saw nurses and technicians and therapists and doctors moving in and out of his room, examining and caring for him. He realized: how silly of us to think we can live our lives disconnected from others. Our lives are very intertwined; we are connected.
A new book has grabbed my imagination lately. It’s called, How We Got to Now, by Steven Johnson. The point of the book is not only to help us appreciate some of the amazing features of modern life that we take for granted, like clean tap water, but also, as the book’s reviewer Maria Popova writes, “… the remarkable creative lineage behind even the most mundane of technologies underpinning modern life.” As Johnson writes in the introduction: “Our lives are surrounded and supported by a whole class of objects that are enchanted with the ideas and creativity of thousands of people who came before us: inventors and hobbyists and reformers who steadily hacked away at the problem of making artificial light or clean drinking water so that we can enjoy those luxuries today without a second thought, without even thinking of them as luxuries in the first place… We are indebted to those people every bit as much as, if not more than, we are to the kings and conquerors and magnates of traditional history.”
Rabbi Shulweiss poignantly learned after his surgery how we are all so connected to each other. Johnson is reminding us of how we are connected to those who came before us. To me, the magic of a synagogue is that it reminds us of both. The synagogue enriches our lives by creating a sacred community of people who worship together, learn together, celebrate together, and who care about each other. And it adds depth to our lives by reminding us of those who came before us and bequeathed to us the responsibility of continuing the ancient and noble covenant between God and the Jewish people.
Tonight we welcome into our big Beth Israel family our new members. What joy it brings us to welcome you. I hope that you have been touched by a warm welcome to our community and that our embrace of you will encourage you to open yourself up to what Beth Israel has to offer. We are a community of communities and there are so many ways to truly connect.
Remember the famous line in the play Death of a Salesman. Willie’s wife proclaims: This is a human being; attention must be paid. She was right; attention must be paid to every human being. Everyone matters. Only God is a nobody; a no-body; all the rest of us have bodies and hearts and minds and souls; and attention must be paid. I hope that at Beth Israel you will feel that attention is being paid.
The synagogue has been the central address of the Jewish people for nearly 2,000 years. It is the hub of a vibrant community. It is a sacred community with deep and significant roots. Becoming a member of a congregation is not like joining a health club. It is more like moving into a village – at least spiritually.
At Beth Israel, like any synagogue worthy of the name, it’s the members of the community that matter most. That’s the first lesson of Judaism: people matter. Humans are created in God’s image and the most important thing is that we learn to live like menches; like good decent people. We are supposed to be what God imagined a human could be when God created the first person. The point of Judaism is not for us to serve our religion, but our religion is here to serve us; to help us become all we can be. Our traditions help us develop a good sense of self, but also tame our egos by reminding us that there is something higher that we serve. Our faith brings a spiritual dimension to our material world, so that even something quite ordinary like eating a meal has, as David Brooks recently wrote, a sacred component to it. Our celebrations and holy days build community because of the practices we share together. The Jewish tradition teaches us to moderate the pleasures in life and keep us on an even keel as we navigate the complexities of our modern world. By binding yourself to this sacred community, you actually liberate yourself to fulfill your potential and to live a life of love, friendship, family, and faith, alongside your people.
As a villager at Beth Israel you are connected to the community around you; to the Jewish people everywhere, and to those who came before us. Here, you matter. Here, attention is being paid. And since that is true, we are so pleased to welcome you as members and invite you to come to this pulpit so that on behalf of our community I can offer a blessing of love for you:
Mi she-bei-rach avoteinu veimoteinu, may the One who blessed our ancestors and the generations before us who built and sustained this synagogue, bless the men, women, and children who have recently joined Beth Israel.
B’ruchim ha-ba-im b’shem Adonai: Blessed are you who came to this holy congregation seeking connection and community. Beirachnuchem me-beit Adonai: We offer you, our new members, our heart-felt blessing and our warm welcome to our community.
May you be granted years of good health and spiritual vigor; may you draw strength from the heritage of our people and the inspiration of your fellow Beth Israel members. May you find here refreshment of spirit, stimulation of mind, warmth of chevruta, fellowship, and a community which cares for you and is concerned for your well-being.
May all that we experience and do together as a congregation – in prayer and celebration, in study and action – enable us to declare with joy and gratitude: Ashreinu! Happy are we! How good is our portion! How pleasant our lot! How beautiful our shared heritage!
In harmony and in unity, like a big loving family, let us go forward together to serve our congregation, our people, and our God. Amen.