Congregation Ahavath Chesed (The Temple) is the center of Reform Judaism in Jacksonville and on Florida's First Coast. The Temple is a Beit T'fillah (House of Worship), Beit Midrash (House of Study) and Beit Knesset (House of Assembly). Ours is an inclusive congregation, welcoming traditional and non-traditional families, couples and individuals from various backgrounds. Your family is always welcome to join ours!
At the Temple, you'll find lively worship, our Temple Institute of Religion with learning opportunities from infant to adult, the largest synagogue library in the Southeast, an active Sisterhood and Brotherhood, our Caring Congregation and social activities for everyone.
I loved the Tooth Fairy. Every time I lost a tooth, I’d leave it under my pillow and awake the next morning to find a quarter, a pack of sugar-free TridentÒgum, and a personal note from the Fairy thanking me and reminding me to brush my teeth every day. It was one of the great mysteries of life, yet it was a constant source of hope. The pain of losing the tooth was repaid with the generous reward, and even more importantly, I knew that someone magical cared about the minutia of my life. I don’t remember how old I was, but I do remember the morning when, while reading the Tooth Fairy’s note, I realized that she had the exact same handwriting as my father. Just like my father, her note was scrawled in bright red pen. Not a lot of people use red pens for note writing, and while it is possible that the Tooth Fairy has a side job grading papers like a genetics professor, I put the pieces together, confronted my dad, and learned the truth. Was I hurt by the deception? Honestly, I can’t remember, but I do know that it was comforting to rediscover my parents’ love. Someone magical did, indeed, care about me! While at the time, I likely appreciated the quarter most of all, looking back now I am thankful that they took the time to write the note, buy the gum, sneak into my room, and deliver the package. The issue of whether the “Fairy” herself was real, pales in comparison to the value of the experience that was passed on to me.
The holiday of Shavuot is coming at the end of this month, and yes, Virginia, there is a Sinai Moment. It may not surprise you that many Bible scholars dispute the reality of the Exodus story, the foundation point of Jewish peoplehood. Before the Exodus, we were just a loose conglomeration of cousins, descendants of Abraham, who were enslaved in Egypt. Through a shared redemption, followed by a shared revelation at Sinai, we became a nation with laws and a purpose: to partner with God in bettering ourselves and the world. The story tells us that God spoke, out loud for all to hear, and all of us agreed to enter into the Covenant. Yet, archeologists, historians and Bible scholars find little support from artifacts, historical documents, or corroborating materials of any kind to “prove” that the Exodus really happened. Furthermore, every hill in the Sinai desert has two common features: a guide who’ll tell you it’s the “real” Mount Sinai and will take you to the top for a few American dollars, and an ice cream cart to sell you a treat when you climb down the other side.
What are we to make of this predicament? We like proof! It would be nice if one of the myriad of Egyptian records referred to a slave rebellion and escape. It would be great if archeologists could show that at a certain point in time, over a million new people arrived in the Holy Land. It would be a dream come true if we could be certain of “the facts.” That we can’t begs an important question: does the story have to be history to be of value to our people? Certainly we are a religion with a shared code of morality and ethics, a shared bond that we do pass down from generation to generation, even without documentary or archeological evidence.
Perhaps the answer comes to us from another direction. In Deuteronomy, before heading into the Promised Land, Moses reminds the Israelites that they all stood at Sinai and entered into the Covenant. It was made with those present that day, and with those not present as well, but none of the generation who left Egypt, save Moses, Joshua, and Caleb, were still alive listening to Moses. Maybe the message is that just as that generation heard a covenantal call and answered it for themselves, so too, each generation, ourselves and our children likewise, find ourselves free to answer or not. For the Covenant to be meaningful, it has to mean something to each of us. One cannot be a “default” Jew, because Judaism demands our actions. The support for our faith is not found on a mountaintop in the wilderness, but rather in the climb toward the summit of our own higher selves each and every day. This Shavuot, I invite you to think of yourself, not merely as if you stood at Sinai back then, but as if you are standing before God still today, for in reality all of us are. The Torah is alive because we, as Jews, bring it to bear on our daily lives. This Shavuot, may each of us find the inspiration to follow in the footsteps of our ancestors, who, when called by God, were each able to answer, “Hineini, here I am.”
Lifelong Learning
“Saying goodbye isn’t the hard part, it’s what we leave behind that’s tough.” ~Unknown
There is no word for “hello” or “goodbye” in Hebrew. We simply say “Shalom,” wishing one another peace in our comings and goings. Over the last few weeks I have started the process of sifting through files, drawers and shelves of books, reminiscing about people and programs. It is amazing what comes back to me by looking at a slip of paper, a picture, a hand written card, a drawing from a student who was in 2ndgrade when it was created and now rides with me on buses to JAFTY events. It is impossible to capture nine years of memories in a few short sentences, to mention everyone who has made an impact on me and my family…so, I say only these two things:
Todah rabah - thank you – for giving me the opportunity to learn and grow from you and with you, to make mistakes and work through them, to have successes and try to replicate them, for the many relationships which distance will not end, but will be continued via phone, email and Facebook, for allowing me the space to depart with a deep love and respect for our congregation as I move toward new challenges AND shalom– may you continue to seek, and be blessed to find, peace in your lives and in the lives of our congregation and our community.
