Vision
Vision for Isaiah Together
Adapted from Rabbi Jill Perlman’s sermon Erev Rosh Hashanah 2014
As human beings, we need to know and be known, to see and be seen, to hear and be heard. Judaism at its core is a response to the existential human condition of loneliness. That response is based in relationship. As Jews, we’ve always been engaged in relationship. Relationship is at the heart of our master narrative as a people. Covenant or brit in Hebrew defines our connection to God, a relationship steeped in promise and responsibility. God makes expectations and demands of us and we in turn do the same of God. Our very existence as the Jewish people is based on this relationship and our interpretation down the millennia of what this relationship entails. We are in search of God and God is in search of us.
From the beginning of our Torah, we learn that we, humans, are created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God, with Godliness dwelling inside each one of us. And so it is perhaps natural that we turn to one another for deep connection, seeking out what one might call God in our interactions with others. Through relationship, we find hints to the greater meaning that’s possible for us in this life. Synagogues are meant to foster these relationships over time, but life-long loyalty to any institution, especially a religious one can no longer be assumed. As Rabbi Lawrence Hoffman, who was our scholar-in-residence here last fall teaches us, we as human beings, but also specifically as Jews are no longer what we are born to be, but what we decide to be. Therefore synagogue communities must evolve and become more intentional as hubs for meaningful belonging.
Our community is about so much more than bricks and mortar. When we are at our best, we are about meaning and mission. We are about purpose. We are that connection in the chaos of our lives. We are—together, for one another—the hands that reach out as we make our way through. We don’t want the following story to be our story. In the book, Relational Judaism by Ron Wolfson, a rabbi confides, “A woman who was a member of my synagogue for 20 years resigned. I was shocked because she showed up to all of our programs. So, I called her to ask why she was leaving. You know what she said? ‘I came to everything, and I never met anybody.’” People, not programs, must be our focus.
Now the cynics among us may say that relationships are not required to cultivate our own strong sense of Jewish identity. And that’s true. There is much to learn and many ways to grow through study and prayer on one’s own, through meditation and mindfulness, through ritual and action. Some people prefer to be left alone and we should respect that, but it is better—as a community—to err on the side of hachnasat orchim, of invitation and welcoming with grace and open arms. And there are some things that we can only learn and experience through relationship. Take chevruta, the traditional Jewish study model of partnership that posits that we learn better when we are pushed by a partner. At the root of chevruta is chaver meaning friend or fellow.
To be in real relationship means going beyond the surface concerns. It means that we must know each other’s stories, what hurts us and what brings us joy. Imagine if we approached all of Jewish life in this way—as friends and caring partners. Communities allow us to act on our Jewish values. It is one thing to study and become an expert on the halachot, the laws around bikkur cholim, visiting the sick; it is quite another thing to live those laws out by actually visiting the sick.
We can hunker down in our own homes in our own modes of thinking isolated or we can accept and embrace and celebrate the notion that God made human beings in plentitude –we are not alone nor are we meant to be. We must know each other’s joys, what wakes us up in the morning, our fears and concerns, what keeps us up at night. As a synagogue community, we are uniquely situated to help foster conversations and connections. We believe that relationships have always been at the center of what it means to be a part of Isaiah—and now we want to be even more intentional in our communal practice of relationship.
Inspired by Rabbi Lawrence Hoffman’s scholar-in-residence visit with us last year and study of Ron Wolfson’s Relational Judaism, folks from across Isaiah have been exploring exciting new models of what it means to be Jewish and in community today. We want to truly be Isaiah – together. And so an exciting new initiative in togetherness and connectivity called Isaiah Together was envisioned and born. Isaiah Together is an intention for all of us, an intention that we hope resonates with you. Isaiah Together is a vision. A vision where being a part of a community that has well over 850 families can still feel small and intimate, a community of communities.
What if there was an easy way to know who else among us was asking the same crucial questions as you or who else among us shared the same passions? What if there was an easy way to know who else was similarly looking to connect around that question or passion? Isaiah Together is the mechanism, the modality to bring us together around the issues that we care the most about. It’s member-driven, bottom-up; it’s about engaging us where we are at, empowering all of us with the information that we need to make the kinds of connections that we yearn for. It’s about facilitating small groups, loads of them, communities within communities.
While certainly there are plenty of other places and modalities for small groups to get together, the added benefit here is building relationships within our community. We want to make sure there are familiar faces for all of us when we come to celebrate Shabbat or Rosh HaShanah. We want to be held close by folks that truly know us in our community in times of joy and times of sorrow. To get there, we need to reach out and connect.
Right now, think to yourself, what in your life is deserving of your time and attention? If you were able to, would you want to explore it with others from our sacred community? Could Isaiah be a central meeting place for our core concerns and interests?
How will we form these small groups? How will we make these matches? How will we know who shares similar passions? We will listen. Shema Yisrael – Listen, Israel, let us listen to one another. In the coming weeks and months, we’ll be hosting conversations meant to elicit our stories and to articulate those core questions and interests for each one of us. Beginning in October, we’ll be listening in a series of large group gatherings here at the Temple as well as in small group gatherings that will meet in members’ homes. In addition, we have this open website where we will be able to share and see our communal concerns. On an on-going basis, members of our Isaiah Together planning team will look at the results of all of our listening and when we have about a minyan, make appropriate matches to get groups launched.
This is not about listing all of your interests, hobbies, and life experiences. In fact, it is precisely not that. It is about figuring out whether or not there is an issue inside of you that needs your attention for which you are willing to set aside your time and that you want to explore with your sacred community.
No one can make relationships for us—that is up to each and every one of us. But if we can help make it easier, if we can introduce you to an enduring friend, if we can play the old and oh-so-sacred role of match-makers so-to-speak, if we can provide a forum for the compelling issues of your life, then I believe that we are indeed doing the holy work of what it means to be a community.
We are embarking on this journey because while we know that we are already a thriving community where so many of you are deeply involved and spiritually nourished, we acknowledge that there are simply too many of us who live on the periphery. And we can do better. Deeply ingrained in Isaiah is a drive to innovate. Isaiah Together is indeed innovative and new. And that is exciting, but it must be said that new things always carry with them the very real possibility of failure or at least serious course correction.
This will not be a perfect process. We cannot anticipate everything; there will be mistakes along the way. Let us give ourselves the permission to try new things and let us give ourselves the permission to experiment and take risks. Let us dream big and bold about what it means to be a community as we play with new models so that we can be the synagogue community that is required of us in the twenty-first century.
You can read Rabbi Perlman’s full Rosh Hashanah sermon here.