Erev Rosh Hashanah 5766 (2005): Relational Organizing

I have been thinking a lot about our congregation and our untapped potential to be a more relational community.  There is a model for congregational development and political action that many synagogues across the country are participating in.  And we at Temple Beth El are part of this movement. Let’s start with a question to begin this exploration. What do you think is the most important verse in the Torah?  Let this question sit in your mind for some time.

I imagine that some of you might say, “Love your neighbor as yourself”.  Or it could be the Shema.  Maybe others would respond, “Justice, justice shall you pursue”.

In Pirke Avot (The Sayings of our Ancestors) Rabbi Hillel asks the same question.  He answers his own question with this verse:  “B’tzelem Elohim bara otam”, In the image of God were they created.  Surprising in its simplicity.  Yet what would it mean for us to live our lives with this intention?  How would we behave, what would we care about and how would we choose to spend our time?

This verse contains a number of implicit assumptions.  According to Rabbi Yitz Greenberg, it implies that every human being is “endowed by their Creator with three intrinsic dignities: infinite value, equality and uniqueness.  He further claims, “All of society –economics, politics, culture must be organized to respect and uphold these fundamental dignities”.[1] This is a radical understanding of the Biblical verse.  While the task of transforming our whole society seems overwhelming, we can make changes in our own community that can impact the larger picture.  Our relationships should reflect these values.  When we truly listen to another person and treat them as precious, irreplaceable and equal to ourselves, we find that our friendships deepen and our communities flourish.

The Jewish theologian, Martin Buber articulated these values in his concept of the I-Thou relationship.  He wrote about the true encounter that can happen when two human beings meet each other. These encounters should include our full attention to the other and their individual life experiences. This is ideally, how we really get to know another person.  By looking beyond how the other person can serve us and hearing the unique story each one has to tell.   In forging relationships based upon Buber’s model, we create the opportunity to see the Divine image in another person.  The space between us becomes holy, as we listen to another and the other listens to us.  We catch a glimpse of God in our engaging interaction.

Jewish tradition teaches that every Jew is encouraged to write a Torah scroll.  Even a sofer, a scribe, who is well trained in this holy art, must spend many years to complete each scroll.  How impossible would this be for each of us?  There must be a deeper teaching embedded in this tradition.  The message here is that we are to imagine our own lives as sacred text. 

Rabbi Laurence Kushner tells a beautiful story.  Years ago, at his synagogue in Sudbury, MA, he was asked by the pre-school teacher to meet with the children in the sanctuary.  The High Holidays were approaching so he decided to show the children the ark, which held the Torah scrolls.  His plan was to spend some time with the students on the bimah and then open a Torah so that they would be able to see what the inside of the Torah looked like.  He describes how excited the children were to come up to the bimah and their curiosity about what it would look like when he parted the ark curtains.  As is usually the case with young children, things took a lot longer than he had planned.  Instead of rushing through the opening of the ark, he decided to postpone that part of the lesson until the following week. He asked the children to think about what they would see when he opened the ark at their next meeting.  The next day, one of the pre-school teachers approached the rabbi with this report.  She told him that the kids had a heated debate about what was inside the ark.  One child, who apparently had watched too many game shows on television, claimed that there was a “brand new car” behind the curtain.  Another child argued that there must be a Jewish book inside the ark.  Still another, young existentialist said that the ark was empty.  But the most interesting answer came from the child who said that next week, when the rabbi opened the ark, there would be a large mirror.  As Kushner teaches, this last answer was probably the closest to the truth.  We know that a text is holy when we can find ourselves in the narrative.  The Torah can help us take a closer look at our own lives in order to find our own story and it is through the sharing of our stories that we build communities of obligation and responsibility.  As Carol Ochs writes in her book, Seeing Our Lives as Torah, “Interpreting our own experiences and hearing stories of others as if they are Torah opens us to creative possibilities.”[2]  In a sense, when we tell our stories as Torah, we emulate God’s creative capacity.   As we read in the opening verses, God created the world through words. “Vayomer Adonai, y’hi or, va’y’hi or, And God said, Let there be light and there was light.”  The word itself was the tool of creation.  Through giving voice to our own experiences, history and values, we create meaning and affirm the idea that we are created in God’s image and endowed with the same potential for being creators.  

How do we identify our stories?  We usually think of a story as a list of events, which have a beginning, middle, climax and an end.  But it is clear that the same set of events can be interpreted in many different ways.  Two siblings growing up in the same household will probably tell their story differently.  Obviously, this makes the point that what is important about telling our story is not the facts but the way we interpret them.  It is how we reach back into our past and project our hopes and dreams into the future.

In this telling of our story, we look for the element that turns a simple narrative of statistics into searching for the element that transforms our day-to-day life into something of infinite worth.

This synagogue is the place for us to be sharing our stories. Our congregation is a place where we can create opportunities to explore together.   In sharing our own individual stories we deepen our understanding of our people’s story.  Just the sharing of story creates the opportunity for connection and change. In sharing our stories, we have the potential for crafting the ability to see the Divine in our relationships.  Imagine with me for a moment, how it would look if hundreds of our members engaged in real conversations, uncovering our stories, and strengthening connections?  We would realize that we are all engaged in the common task of finding meaning in our lives.  We would reveal that the pressures and concerns we may imagine are unique to our own family are actually shared by other members in our congregation.  When we know the frustrations and challenges each of us face we can move together to the following question.  What kind of community could we create out of knowing these needs and problems that could benefit all of us?

Does this sound like a fantasy?  I want to tell you that it is already happening on a small scale.  Through our synagogue’s involvement in COPA, Communities Organized for Relational Power in Action, we are already engaged in this process.  Over the past two years, members of our congregation have been sharing stories through one to one relational meetings and house meetings.  These relational meetings have taken place in the sanctuary after services, at our last board retreat, and in people’s homes. Our COPA team has been learning the skills needed to conduct these relational meetings, which are the container for us to share our stories. 

COPA organizes through one-on-one relational meetings where we are given the opportunity to learn the story and history of the other, what they fear, what they long for, and what is necessary to protect and sustain the other person so that we can each fulfill our potential as individuals and as a community.  In our synagogue we are in the process of building our COPA team to include more people with vision, who are willing to work for that vision.  These face-to-face meetings are places where people can discover common cause as they help each other understand the interests that are most central to their lives. This sort of organizing is agitation—stirring up the pot and inspiring the curiosity and understanding of what possibilities can be constructed. The “iron rule,” though, is never do for anyone what he or she can do for himself or herself. It is the obligation to develop institutions that teach people how to do for themselves, and that provide hope. I have found that this kind of organizing is an antidote for hopelessness and despair.

Through this process of one-to-one meetings and house meetings, we are able to identify what issues are most important to our members.  And we have learned interesting things about the members of our congregation.  We have heard stories about people caught between the pressures of caring for their children and their aging parents.  Single mothers have revealed their fears about their inability to afford housing costs in Santa Cruz County.  Others have talked about unemployment and the financial devastation of having to pay out of pocket for health care.

I am sure that some of you have heard the same myth I have about Temple Beth El.  The myth is that we are a congregation of middle class and upper class individuals.  Our dues are too expensive and working people cannot afford to become members.  If we keep silent about the pressures and concerns of our families, we run the risk of perpetuating this myth.  And we also run the risk of fostering a sense of isolation for the families who suffer with these “private concerns”.   I can give you the names of a significant number of members who have had to leave our congregation because they could no longer afford to stay in this community.

I want to share my story with you.  I grew up in a large, Reform synagogue in Westchester county.  The demographics of Kol Ami are very similar to ours at Temple Beth El.  When I was in High School, my parents divorced.  The emotional challenges any divorced family experiences are all too common.  My mother approached the executive director of the synagogue to tell him that we would no longer be able to retain our membership and attend Hebrew school. Gratefully, this was kept confidential. He said not to worry about it.  We were welcome to remain members of the congregation and continue our Jewish education.  We were never asked to repay those dues or fees.  But the issue that was never discussed openly within the synagogue walls was how divorce impacted our economic situation.  We had grandparents who helped out but my memory of this time period was one of isolation around our family’s “secret”.  Reflecting upon this story as an adult, I imagine that we were not the only family in our synagogue experiencing these pressures.  What kept us from feeling secure enough in our community to tell others what was really happening in our lives?  Maybe we would have found support and comfort in knowing that we were not alone.  There could have been a chance for us to come together with other families struggling with similar issues and create some opportunities to alleviate our burden.  We could have found a way to create hope instead of embarrassment.  This story I share with you has been a major motivation for my commitment to this kind of transformative work.

These one to one relational meetings and house meetings are not therapy sessions.   They are opportunities to discover the issues and pressures we face as individuals and families living in Santa Cruz County.  Knowing the issues leads us to the opportunity to act as a community, with other organizations in responding to these pressures.

As you can see, this work requires partnership.  Are you ready to join Rabbi Rick, our COPA team and myself in this holy endeavor? 

Our COPA team is launching a house meeting campaign.  During the week of Sukkot, we will be holding these meetings in congregant’s homes.  Sukkot is a perfect opportunity to meet other TBE members and share our stories.  The tradition of hospitality and sharing is central to the Sukkot festival.  As you leave the building tonight, you will see a table with sign-up sheets for Mazon and the caring committee.  There will also be a sign-up sheet to attend and host these house meetings and on Yom Kippur afternoon, before N’ilah, we will hold a gathering to learn more about what happens at these house meetings.  Members of our COPA team, who have been trained to conduct house meetings, will be sharing their experiences with all who attend.  I urge you to be part of this meeting and sign your name to the Sukkot house meeting campaign list.  If you are unavailable on Yom Kippur or during Sukkot please sign the list and indicate that you would like to be contacted in the future. 

On Yom Kippur I will speak about the inspired action we can take from the experience of knowing our congregational stories.  I’ll share my excitement about how TBE has played an active role in local politics through our involvement with affordable housing.  Later in today’s service, you will hear from one of our members about how her involvement with COPA has changed her feelings about our community.

1. Greenberg, Rabbi Irving Living in the Image of God Jason Aronson New Jersey, Jerusalem 1998 p.31

2. Ochs, Carol Our Lives as Torah Jossey-Bass Inc, San Francisco, CA 2001 p. xiii

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