21st Century Reform

By Rabbi Michael Z. Cahana

At the head of the classroom, empty of students but full of history, stood a tall and imposing lectern. It was an old reading stand, large enough to hold one of those ancient oversize leather-bound bibles most of us have only seen in movies. Its very presence evoked images of grey-haired professors in flowing robes and flowing beards – back in the days when professors professed in tones stentorious. Look it up.

 
We were on the campus of Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion in Cincinnati, Ohio. It was a historic visit for us. Temple President Jill Semler Rubinstein, President-elect Stuart Chestler and I had come to interview graduating students to be our new Assistant Rabbi. Over the course of a day and a half, we met with 15 students from the three campuses: New York, Cincinnati and Los Angeles, where the Reform Movement trains its future leaders.

It has been many years since Congregation Beth Israel has had an Assistant Rabbi. Difficult economic times have strained our finances, while at the same time the needs for pastoral care and outreach have greatly increased. We are almost unique in the nation as a congregation of our size to have a single rabbi. A remarkably generous gift has enabled us to take this much needed step that our Temple Board had identified as a top priority. More on that gift in future months.

In Cincinnati, the original home of Hebrew Union College, we were surrounded by the history of our movement. As I approached the lectern - standing imposingly but tucked unceremoniously into a corner as if it were the most common of items - I saw a plaque attached to the front. Faded and tarnished, the words indicated that the reading desk had belonged to four of the great rabbis of the Reform Movement stretching from the mid-19th to the late 20th centuries: David Einhorn, Kaufmann Kohler, Henry Englander and Jacob Rader Marcus. Those rabbis had railed against slavery during the Civil War and adopted the basic principles upon which Reform Judaism stands today. Their words form our intellectual history. I was humbled to stand where these progenitors had stood.

But our purpose was not the past.  We were there to focus on the future. The students we met, soon to be ordained as rabbis, will be the leaders in the early decades of a new century. They are bright, enthusiastic, creative and deeply committed to Judaism. They know that we are in an era in which it becomes increasingly difficult to break through the noise of the now, to teach the values that are eternal. They know that Jewish commitment for their peers is hard to come by. But their ideas, their experiences and their energy gave me great confidence. In the coming weeks one of these exceedingly capable young people will be announced as our new Assistant Rabbi. 

In that classroom, the past and the future meet. I am pleased to report that our future – our synagogue’s and our movement’s – is in exceedingly good hands.

From the Rabbi: Finding Comfort
Rabbi Michael Z. Cahana 

There is a cycle of the Jewish calendar that has fallen out of favor in the Reform movement, but that this year has taken on a new meaning for me personally. For three weeks in the summer, from the Hebrew date of 17 Tammuz to the 9th day of Av, is traditionally a period of mourning and sadness. In it, we commemorate the first century Roman siege and eventual destruction of Jerusalem and the sacred Temple. Even as much of Judaism was already living outside the land of Israel, the Temple remained our beating heart, our axis mudi, our direct connection to the Divine Presence. The brutal destruction, the sudden dismemberment of the sacred, the violent exile of the remnant survivors, remained a scar on the Jewish people’s psyche for two thousand years. Homeless and powerless we wandered. The oppression which began on that fearful day found its terrible culmination in the fires of the Holocaust.

And yet, with the founding of the state of Israel and the Jewish people’s return to our ancestral homeland, the rebirth of self-governance and renewed identity it is fair to ask if the commemoration of these events, summarized in the fast of Tisha B’Av, has relevance today. Should we not put it in the place of historic remembrance, and replace the sadness with joy at our new historic reality?

I have personally struggled with this for years. But this year, through personal tragedy, I have found new relevance in the ancient tradition.This summer, my brother, Rabbi Ronnie Cahana, a young man of 57, suffered a devastating stroke. As I write, he is making slow but encouraging progress. He continues to inspire his family and his congregation. Yet his active and creative mind remains trapped in an unmoving body. 

The fact that this dreadful and sudden event took place just before the beginning of these three weeks is lost on no one, least of all my brother. This past Tisha B’Av, which took place in early August, left me contemplating the sudden brokenness that has occurred in so many people’s lives. We are all susceptible to the unanticipated seismic shifts which can upend our lives and leave us in despair. Some are medical, some are financial, some are personal. All deeply painful and isolating.But – and here is the genius of Jewish tradition – the three short weeks of affliction leading up to the 9th of Av, are followed by seven full weeks of comfort and consolation. Nachamu, Nachamu, the prophet proclaims as this time begins, “comfort ye, comfort ye, my People.” Despite the brokenness we can feel in our lives, there is a promise of embrace. We are not alone. There is hope.

These seven weeks lead us directly to the beautiful renewal and gathering of Rosh Hashanah. A new year, a new promise; new possibilities lie before us. And so, as we experience this rhythm of our Jewish calendar, we can internalize the message.

May we – each of us – who have known brokenness, and even tasted a bit of despair, find comfort in these beautiful weeks. And when we gather for these High Holidays, may we be renewed.

Ida Rae and I wish you and your family a Shanah Tovah Tikatavu – may you be inscribed for good year.