Getting to the Heart of Yom Kippur by Rabbi Vicki Tuckman

Ed. Note: This cross-post comes from the URJ's email series entitled "Ten Minutes of Torah". The email comes daily and provides a one-page e-mail on a topic of Jewish interest. To sign up for the daily email, visit the URJ's web page.

Rabbi Tuckman has given TBS permission to repost her email on a new ritual her family has created for Yom Kippur on our blog. Rabbi Tuckman is Assistant Director / Director of Jewish Life for the URJ's Camp Harlam. You can read more about Rabbi Tuckman on Camp Harlam's web page.

Last year I introduced a new ritual into my family’s observance of Yom Kippur. I was determined to observe this most holy of days in a meaningful and active way. Yom Kippur is a long and challenging day, even for the seasoned Jew who spends the month of Elul and the “days of awe” in preparation. The normative Yom Kippur rituals (i.e. fasting, prayer, personal and communal atonement) are not necessarily engaging or developmentally-appropriate for children or pre-teens. Even teenagers (and adults) can be overwhelmed by the length of services and miss the point of fasting if they do not understand the true intent.

With that said, there is no doubt that the message and teachings of Yom Kippur are appropriate for all. All people – from preschool on up – ought to be practicing reflection, atonement and forgiveness. At each stage of our lives we can and should seek to fulfill the sacred duties of this day.

Rabbi Gunther Plaut writes the following about “The Day of Atonement” in his Torah commentary:

It is impossible to exaggerate the importance of Yom Kippur in the life of the Jewish People. Even the religiously indifferent respond to its call and crowd the synagogues...It speaks to each human being and seeks to bring each person into harmony with others and with God. (The Torah: A Modern Commentary, page 858)

Rabbi Plaut goes on to explain that when reading the original Torah text from chapter 16 in the Book of Leviticus, with follow-up passages in chapter 23, we learn about an animal sacrifice system meant to connect humankind to God. In biblical times Yom Kippur was observed as a well-choreographed ceremony by those highest in power, with the Israelite people primarily observing the day as “passive spectators.” The modern Jew, however, is left searching for a more inspiring message and not a discussion regarding “a complicated sacrificial service performed by the High Priest.” (Plaut, page 858)

It was for this reason that a different Torah passage was chosen by the leaders of the Reform Movement; one that would fulfill the ultimate charge of the day - that being a sacred call for each person to take responsibility for one’s words, actions and behaviors. In Deuteronomy each and every member of the community is called forth. No one is exempt from standing before God and our fellow peers in judgment, as well as forgiveness.

“You stand this day, all of you, before Adonai your God – your tribal heads, your elders and your officials, all the men of Israel, your children, your wives, even the stranger within your camp, from the woodchopper to the waterdrawer – to enter into the covenant of Adonai your God.” (Deuteronomy. 29:9-11)

This article began with a reference to a “new ritual” that I started with my family this year, cognizant of a Yom Kippur teaching I wish my own children to imbibe. After a beautiful morning t’filah at our synagogue, we ended our day not in front of the Aron HaKodesh for Neilah, but simply the 5 of us standing in a circle in the woods near our house. With an ode towards the tashlich ceremony of Rosh Hashanah, we stood by a pond and read parts of the Neilah liturgy. Even though our prayers told us the “gates of Heaven were closing” - we discussed the importance of keeping our hearts open. Open to growth, open to forgiveness, and open to change. And whether one is 6 or 60 – living in ancient Jerusalem or modern America – this message has remained constant since our ancient words were eternalized in our Torah. As we will read on the morning of Yom Kippur in Reform synagogues in North America and around the world:

“This Instruction… is not too baffling, nor is it beyond reach. It is not in the heavens, neither is it beyond the sea… No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it.” (Deuteronomy 30:11-14)

My New Passport

By Cantor Marcie Jonas

(Photo Credit: M. Jonas, Grand Tetons taken from the Snake River)

This summer, I was given a new passport. Not the kind that you need for international travel; rather this passport is solely for travel within our country and only to specific locales. It is my Passport to Our National Parks. This passport book, created by the National Parks Service, is divided into nine geographic travel regions throughout the country. Whenever I visit a National park, I have my passport stamped with a cancellation mark. Each cancellation mark records the name of the park and the date of my visit. It is a keepsake of our domestic travels.

This summer, through our family travels in Wyoming, we received a few cancellation marks in our passports. For me, there is no question that the National Parks in the great state of Wyoming contain some of the most breathtaking views. The Grand Tetons, and Yellowstone, are host to bears, bison, elk and moose, as well as the famous Old Faithful Geyser (and some of it’s less-reliable cousins nearby, which we also got to see erupt, however, sporadically). I’ve heard many describe this part of our nation as “G-d’s country.” It is breathtakingly beautiful, with nothing to obstruct the 360-degree view of mountains, lakes and streams.

Even on our flight and the approach to land in Jackson Hole Wyoming, the conversations on our airplane turned to the gorgeous land below. Even those passengers, who call Jackson Hole home, were awestruck as our pilot navigated through the Grand Tetons, and flew over Jenny Lake. The snow-capped mountains set against the deepest blue sky took our breath away.

I knew that experiencing the terrain of this part of the country would be a gift for our family.

There are moments in our busy lives where we forget to stop and look around us, at the beauty of our natural resources. Driving through the state of Wyoming, there was nothing to see except our natural resources, and this new perspective really helped to restore balance in my life. Our senses were heightened while in Wyoming, taking in the views of the glorious landscape, the smells of pine, the feel of the crisp morning air, and the sounds of the rushing Snake River. This is not to say that these beautiful vistas don’t exist here, for they certainly do, only that sometimes we need to look a little harder to see them.

After a week out west, we returned home. As we drove home from the airport we noticed how the foliage in the state of Massachusetts is different from that of Wyoming. We noticed how it has changed even from a week or two earlier primarily due to imbalance of rain and sun. The familiarity was beautiful. Coming home always feels good.

Sometimes we need to step away from what we know so well, in order to see it and embrace its beauty. I was reminded of this one day on our trip. I was getting ready to photograph the Grand Tetons off in the distance but what struck me as most beautiful was in the foreground of my viewfinder…my family.

I am reminded of a stanza from a song from the musical group Lonestar. It’s called My Front Porch Looking In. A section of the song lyrics state:

I've traveled here and everywhere
Following my job
I've seen the paintings from the air
Brushed by the hand of God
The mountains and the canyons reach from sea to shining sea
But I can't wait to get back home
To the one He made for me
It's anywhere I'll ever go and everywhere I've been
Nothing takes my breath away
Like my front porch looking in

As the summer winds down, my wish is that we still find moments for front-porch-sitting, and vista viewing. But also know that the view looking in can be more beautiful than the view looking out.

[This post originally appeared in the August 19, 2011 Shabbat Shalom email]

Shayna Reed's Sinai Statement: Celebrating Confirmation and An Individual Relationship with G-d

Ed Note: The fourth in our series of our Confirmand's Sinai Statements comes from Shayna Reed. Shayna writes about her individual relationship with God and how her learning in the Confirmation Year has encouraged her to find her own personal relationship with belief as part of the ongoing Jewish journey.

I’ve been going to Religious School for a really really long time, and in the process I have formed many opinions on all sort of topics like prayer, the Jewish relationship with Israel, and the best kind of hamentashen filling (definitely poppy seed). However, one topic that has been harder for me to process and form opinions on is my individual relationship with G-d. I went into this year only knowing what I don’t believe about G-d. I do not believe G-d controls our world and our destinies completely. I do not think G-d is wholly uninvolved in our lives. I don’t believe G-d is so involved as to keep records of our every action and rewards or punishes accordingly, and I do not believe that G-d is our conscience. As a biology geek I tend towards believing that G-d is the order found through science because I see something majestic in the way our world is organized; however, I don’t think that science encompasses the entire nature of G-d or how we lowly humans can relate to G-d. As beautiful as science is to me because it explains our world, some things simply cannot be explained and therefore suggest divine presence.

Obviously, judging from the hardly comprehensive list of ideas I have already rejected, G-d is different for everyone. The one conclusion that I can draw about my own views from our G-d discussions is that I greatly respect the Jewish faith’s command to constantly question G-d in serious ways. As the people Yisrael, even our name reflects our constant struggle with G-d as it literally means “one who will struggle with G-d.” This struggle means that we must constantly re-evaluate what we have learned and always seek more knowledge and reflect on our experiences and the teachings of others. I feel comfortable with Judaism because I am not forced to believe in one ideology, and my understanding of G-d can change as my understanding of life does. I don’t agree with everything our religion tells us but I love the discussions and insights that are stimulated by questioning it. G-d is confusing and ultimately unknowable. However, I know that I will always struggle with G-d, as Jacob and all the Jews before me have.

by Shayna Reed

Social Justice in the Social Media Age - A Crosspost from eJewish Philanthropy

Ed. Note: Today we feature a cross-post from eJewish Philanthropy, a daily newsletter focused on the Jewish Philanthropic world.

This post, written by Florence Broder, Chief Operations Officer for israelgives.org, explores how the use of social media is shaped by your community. She uses the backdrop of the current protests in Israel as a case study on the successful use of social media.

What do you think about the challenge the article lays out for us? In what way can our community at TBS embrace the vision of using social media "to reawaken the complacent into action"?

Special thanks to Florence Broder for permission to cross-post her article to the Temple Beth Shalom blog.

When Allison Fine was in Israel in May, she said Israelis have so much to say, it can’t fit into 140 characters. Yet Israelis are a population that live for text messaging – it’s even how they pay their parking meter. I constantly try to make sense of the disparity between the two Israels: one being the hi-tech center of the world; the other, a country not that can’t use the tools to communicate. During June’s Israeli Presidential Conference, everyone applauded the great coverage on Twitter, but I couldn’t help but ask why was it all in English? Where were all the Israeli Hebrew tweeters?

However, the developing protests in Israel paint a different picture. The need to communicate has made tweets a catalyst for change and a revolutionary spirit. Empowered by social media, the Israeli public has been galvanized in the quest for social justice, the mantra of the movement. The Tent Protesters quickly launched a WordPress site designed by Code Patuach that has the elements that we all want – a social, interactive site, with a clear call-to- action, and consistent branding.

The site homepage offers you photos, videos and blogs. If it’s community you are looking for, there is a Hebrew and English Twitter feed and you can follow the #J14 hashtag. (In case you were wondering, it’s J14 because the movement began on July 14th, which is also Bastille Day.) There is a Facebook page which allows fans to identify with the movement by offering them badges and other opportunities to get involved. Want to leave a comment about a newspaper article? You can do it right from the homepage. There is even a live chat feature so you can talk to protesters right on the spot! And if you want to support the movement financially, the is a clearly labeled donate button.

The protesters have been so successful because they have been strategic in how they have empowered the public to get involved. They have created clear and consistent messaging to propel the public forward. They have leveraged social media to give a voice to people who thought they were voiceless. They have created community for people who felt alone in their plight. As the movement grows, so does the reawakening of the Israeli public who are starting to actually believe that they can effect change and re-envision a different future for Israel.

As you consider issues in your own community, reflect on the success of social media in bringing together Israelis from all walks of life. Think about how the tools can do the same for your community. Take a fresh look at your organization’s website and think about how you too can integrate social media into your website to reawaken the complacent into action.

By Florence Broder

Sam Moller's Sinai Statement: Celebrating Confirmation and Tikkun Olam

Ed. Note: The third in our series of our Confirmand's Sinai Statements comes from Sam Moller. Sam talks about his views on Tikkun Olam and how his trip to the RAC during his confirmation year has helped shape these views.

Throughout my life I have always been drawn to perform Tikkun Olam, the Jewish principle of repairing our world through acts of social justice. Throughout my time at The Rashi School, I was under the impression that most of the people in our society were involved in social justice projects. After my trip to the Religious Action Center this winter my impression of Tikkun Olam completely changed. I realized from my trip to the RAC that very few people participate in social justice projects or have a clue about the injustices in our world. The trip also showed me that people should give back to their community and the people who have given to them. As Judaism says “Love thy neighbor as thyself”.

On the trip we covered many different social issues that have a great effect on this country, such as poverty, LGBT rights, America’s relationship with the State of Israel, family abuse, global warming and many more. By going into deeper learning around these topics I realized that there are more than one or two common views on these matters. There are hundreds. The phrase, “Two Jews, Three Opinions”, came into play on the trip countless times.

After I returned from our time at the Religious Action Center, I reflected on my experience and I realized that besides the friends that I made, I discovered a strong passion for the social justice projects that we worked on during the trip. I then came to the conclusion that I want to pursue a career in bringing greater justice to our world. Some people have come up to me since the trip and have asked what I want to be when I get older, and I have responded to them that I want to work in social justice. Some have said that, that it is very commendable, however the majority of the people have responded in saying that, my thought about my career is foolish because there is no money involved. Yes it is true that working in social justice is not a “get rich quick” occupation, however the enjoyment that I get from doing good is priceless.

--Sam Moller

SOFTBALL: A Reflection, in Seven Innings

1

Baseball and softball have always been important parts of my life. I grew up playing catch with my dad and my mom, and all summer long my older brother John (a good hitting lefty and an above-average fielder) and I would ride our bikes to a nearby field where anywhere from four to twenty kids would play baseball until it was too dark to see the ball. In high school my temple’s NFTY group had no softball team, so I also joined the local BBYO to play softball with the AZA team. I played intramural softball with John during the one semester we were at college together, and I have been playing softball – and occasionally helping coach little league – ever since.

2

A few years ago, Jon Cohan pitched the idea of starting a TBS Brotherhood softball team. He gathered a group of interested players, found a league for us to play in, and undertook the thankless task of organizing us into a softball team. Not very easy, given the unruly, opinionated, and vocal group of players – myself included - who joined the team. The diversity in age, athletic ability, softball experience, and temperament was extraordinary, but that first season we managed to practice once or twice without suffering too many injuries, field a team each week without forfeiting, and have a lot of fun while getting to know each other. Within a couple of years, the roster grew to more than 25 players, and when it became apparent that those of us hitting 22nd or 23rd in the order risked going an entire season with only one at-bat per game, the team was divided into two.

3

Softball is played with 10 fielders, and between 12 and 14 players usually show up for our games. It’s not so few that we lack variety of skills and personalities, but not so many that we lose our close connections with each teammate: it is a good size. It takes 10 to form a minyan – wasn't there something about Abraham trying to field a 10-man team of innocents so Sodom could be saved (Genesis 18:32) - and Moses sent 12 tribal leaders to scout the home team when the Israelites first approached the Promised Land (Numbers 13:2). Groups of this size are common: most juries have 12 members, and the basic fighting unit of many armies is the squad, usually consisting of 10 to 12 soldiers. It has been suggested that 12 “was a natural size for a hunting party of the Stone Age, and that men were predisposed to feel comfortable in a group of about that size” (Neal Stephenson, Anathem, Harper (2009), p. 346). Literary examples include Tolkien’s 9-member Fellowship, and the 11 courageous pioneers, led by the heroic rabbit Hazel, who went forth from their native land to establish a new home on Watership Down.

4

How many connections with classmates, friends and Temple members have I made over my decades of playing softball? Too many to count. When someone asks if I know a lawyer with a particular area of expertise, the first people I think of are my law school softball teammates. Most of the men I know best at Temple are guys I first got to know playing softball. Softball buddies Morris Porter and Richard Atkind were instrumental in setting up our employment assistance program; I have shared terrific music with some teammates; I’ve worked on Temple boards and committees with others; and I have led shiva services at the homes of some of my softball friends after the death of a parent.

5

Every summer Sunday morning after I graduated from law school, I played in a long-standing pick-up game in Brookline. (A few of the other regulars were Orthodox, and I enjoyed watching their fringes fly as they ran the bases). I stopped playing in that game in the mid-1980s after moving to Needham, but one Sunday morning about 3 or 4 years ago, I decided to see whether the Brookline game was still going. When I arrived at the field, I recognized three or four of the players, and a couple of them saw me and yelled, “Hey, Kenny – we need a second baseman.” Two decades absent, and they welcomed me as if it had been two weeks. Clearly, there is some intangible bond that forms on the softball field. (Or maybe they just really, really needed someone to play second base).

6

Reflecting on Brotherhood softball compels me to point out a serious problem with the Mens Shul Softball League: women are not allowed to play. I believe that this ban is in deference to Orthodox players’ concerns about forbidden physical contact with a woman not one’s wife or close relative. For its adherents this may be a matter of religious observance, but its effect is discriminatory. Women cannot play on our TBS team, solely on the basis of their gender. When I first heard of this rule, it bothered me, but I rationalized my concerns away somehow, and it did not bother me enough to protest - or to quit the team. Our 2011 season is now over. Writing this has made me think more seriously about this problem, and I do not know whether I will choose to play again next year.

7

Softball brings back great memories and allows me to meet and get to know other Temple members. It can even be an occasion for hearing good things about our Temple. Last summer, before a game with Mishkan Tefillah’s team, one of their players came over to me and said, “I was at a B’nai Mitzvah service at Temple Beth Shalom recently, and I want to tell you what a great place it is.” I started talking about the sanctuary renovation, and how the space is now so much more open and light, and he interrupted me: “I wasn’t talking about the physical structure – I was talking about how warm and welcoming the people are at your Temple.” I thanked him, and walked away feeling proud of TBS and the impression we had made on this visitor. And I felt even better after we won the game by a dozen runs.

Maimonides - Then and Now

In contemporary culture today, the name Maimonides stands for the mainstream Jewish Orthodoxy. Chabad (Lubavich Hasidic) sends in regular messages on line with special references to Maimonides’s books for daily study. A prominent Orthodox private school, called Maimonides, continues to have a great academic reputation in Boston, MA.

That was not always the case in the medieval period when the great philosopher lived, first in Cordoba, Spain and then in Fustat, Egypt. Moses Maimonides (1135-1204; called for short, Rambam) was deeply influenced by the teachings of Aristotle, and attempted to show that Judaism, too, with some restrictions, could be understood in light of Greek philosophy. Through his books, such as The Guide to the Perplexed, and the Commentary to the Mishnah, the rabbi-philosopher spoke of God as pure intellect, and insisted that God’s attributes were metaphors, which were understood and expressed only by our limited human minds.

Though Maimonides had many supporters, some of his contemporaries strongly disagreed with his rationalistic interpretation of Judaism. Soon, an anti-Maimonidean movement developed in southern France and Cataluña, which shook the foundations of the Jewish communities in the Mediterranean basin. Spearheaded by the Ravad of Posquieres (12th cent) and supported even by some of the great rabbinic luminaries, such as Solomon b. Abraham of Montpellier and Jonah b. Abraham of Girondi, the anti-Maimonidean movement declared the Rambam a heretic, and was instrumental in having his books publicly burned in Montpellier, southern France in 1233. As time went on, however, this negative attitude against Maimonides abated, and, in our time, few remember the fierce intellectual battles that medieval rabbis fought about this great Jewish-Spanish philosopher.

In our time, a new intellectual battle is raging between the Jewish rationalists and anti-rationalists -- each claiming that it best represents the Jewish tradition. Regrettably, the anti-rationalists appear to be denigrating the other possible approaches in Judaism. This would be a big mistake, because there is room within our tradition for both approaches, and no one should claim that it has the ultimate truth. As a rationalist myself, I would be very sad if this reality is ignored in the modern Jewish world.

Rifat Sonsino

This post originally appeared on Rabbi Sonsino's blog, “From Istanbul to Boston”

Thirty Conversions In Barcelona

I have been in the rabbinate for more than four decades but never before have I participated in a group conversion of 30 individuals (24 adults and 6 children, ages 4 to 12) until now. This historic event took place in Barcelona, Spain on June 8 and 9, 2011.

The entire project was coordinated by Rosina Levy of Bet Shalom of Barcelona, a small congregation I have been helping out on and off for the last four years with its programs and services, and which now belongs to the European Region (ER) of the World Union for Progressive Judaism (WUPJ). When word got out that Bet Shalom was ready to present its candidates to the ER’s Beth Din (“rabbinic court”), other liberal Jewish communities around Spain asked that they be allowed to send in their own as well.

A duly authorized progressive Beth Din of three rabbis and a lay secretary came in from London. The European custom is that the local Rabbi (in this case, me) is not an official member of the court. However, I was invited to attend all the sessions and became a full member when one of the rabbis had to return to London for Shabbat services.

The candidates came from many parts of Spain: Barcelona (the majority from Bet Shalom but a few also from Atid), Asturias, Galicia, Seville, Cordoba, and Madrid. They were prepared for this transition by local teachers for a period of a year or more, and the men had to bring a certificate of circumcision as required by Jewish law and the European custom. (In the States, some Reform Rabbis do not require this procedure from adult males). The participants demonstrated proficiency in Jewish history, customs, religious festivals, and life-cycle events; and they were all involved in their own synagogue life.

It is estimated that there are about 20,000 to 25,000 Jews in Spain today, most of them coming from North Africa, France and surrounding countries, but there is a great pool of local people with vivid Jewish memories going back to the times of the Inquisition. Now these people want to reclaim their Jewish identity and wish to become officially part of the people of Israel.

After the exams, we issued two types of certificates: a formal conversion certificate but also, upon request, a certificate of return. We heard incredible stories: their parents, and more often their great or great-grand parents, told them that they carried Jewish blood, that it was the family tradition to cover the mirrors during the period of mourning, that many lit candles on the Sabbath Eve, some knowing exactly what they are doing, others attributing the practice to vague family traditions of ages gone by with no particular knowledge of their significance.

The culminating event took place on Friday, June 9, in the afternoon, when all the candidates (with the Beth Din supervising the procedure) went to the beach for the tevilah, the ritual immersion, with women on one side and men on the other of the pier. It was drizzling that day in the morning but fortunately for us, when we arrived at the beach, the rain stopped and the sun appeared for a short while. There was a mad dash into the tepid waters. After reciting the blessings together, they all came out triumphantly proclaiming their new Jewish identity.

That night, during the Sabbath service, I, as the officiating Rabbi, gave each Jew-by-choice his/her certificate, and the next day during the morning worship I called them up to the Torah for their ever first aliyah. There was joy and celebration in the congregation. They could not thank us enough for confirming what they felt a very long time. And we, at the rabbinic court, were thrilled to make this happen a reality for them. For next year, many are already planning an adult Bar/t Mitzvah.

This conversion program not only propelled Bet Shalom onto the front lines of progressive Judaism in Spain but is now a model for other small congregations, which have learned what can be accomplished with enthusiasm, dedication and the support of the European Region of the WUPJ. This made me really proud.

Rabbi Dr. Rifat Sonsino, Emeritus

Boston College, USA

This post originally appeared on Rabbi Sonsino's blog, “From Istanbul to Boston”

Needham 300 and Temple Beth Shalom 55

The Town of Needham is celebrating it's 300th birthday in 2011. Last Saturday night my wife Julie and I had the pleasure of attending Needham 300 Night at the Pops. Symphony Hall was full with 2500 Needhamites (and only Needhamites!) who had journeyed into Boston. As I sat in the balcony and looked at the many animated faces before the concert started, I noted the many Temple Beth Shalom members who were present.

Needham has been an exceptionally good home for Temple Beth Shalom for our 55 years in the town. We are blessed to have it as our congregational home. It is a good community of citizens who are actively involved in town government and other town activities. So too has our community been good for the Town of Needham. Our members populate the Board of Selectmen, Town Meeting and many, many community organizations.

As Needham celebrates its birthday this year, let's pause and reflect with gratitude on this long-standing and wonderful relationship that we share with our broader community.

Jacqueline Agranat's Sinai Statement: Celebrating Confirmation and TBS Teen Programs

Ed. Note: This second in our series of our Confirmand's Sinai Statements comes from Jacqueline Agranat. Jacqueline talks about her experience during this confirmation year, and shares her perspective on shalom.

Shalom everyone. This one word, “shalom,” has multiple meanings. The main three meanings are "hello, goodbye, and peace." In Hebrew, however, "shalom" is related to the word, "shleimut" which means "wholeness, health, and contentment." Being a part of this temple allows me to feel all the different parts that Shalom can offer. School cannot compete with the environment that this synagogue provides. In school we are taught facts, and forced to memorize them in order to do well on the upcoming test. In Confirmation, however, we are taught stories, lessons, and facts as well, but we do not need to memorize them for a test. We discuss these teachings and share what they mean to us. Each commandment from our Torah tradition impacts each individual differently. Confirmation class allows each of us to be our own person, rather than just another student in a class. We have come to understand that we are part of a larger tradition of adding our own voices to Torah, making it speak to our lives today.

As I was growing up, going to temple was a mandatory activity in my busy life. After everyone became Bar or Bat Mitzvah, in many families, it was the kid’s decision whether or not they should continue learning at temple. After observing how much my older brother Josh enjoyed his time here, I was willing to continue with it. Now I can see why he enjoyed it so much. This place, this beautiful synagogue, makes me feel secure. It wouldn’t be the same without the people that are here with me. Each member of the Confirmation Class of 2011 is a unique individual. It has been incredibly refreshing to spend time with the members of Confirmation and get to know them better. I know we all can relate when I say that the sharing circle before each class, during which we can check in about one another’s lives, is something we all enjoy. We are able to speak our minds and know that everyone’s support is present. Confirmation is one of the few places where I feel comfortable enough to really speak my mind without being judged, and I thank you all for allowing this shleimut, this wholeness, to be possible.

--Jacqueline Agranat