Rebecca DeHovitz
Confirmation 5768
May 3, 2008

            Every year on Rosh Hashanah, my sister and I race to the doors of Flint Center ahead of our parents.  “Do you think it will still be here this year?” My sister asks anxiously.  There’s only one way to find out.  We open the glass doors and step inside.  My sister grabs my hand.  “There it is!” she cries excitedly.  Seven painted silk tapestries hang from the opposite wall, displaying various symbols of Judaism, each one a mosaic with individual sections that put together the picture.  In the center of the row of seven tapestries, there’s a mosaic of a Star of David. 

            My sister and I race up to this one and stand on tiptoe so that we can get a better look at the top left-hand corner of the tapestry.  There we see a painting of three upside-down hearts, and a Shabbat dinner table.  “We painted that!” we boast proudly to the closest passerby.  “Really?” they say, impressed.  We give an affirmative nod and return our gaze to that tiny section of colored silk.  Those tapestries have been hung during our High Holy Day Services for nearly ten years and every time I look at the place my brush touched so many years ago, it gives me a feeling that I belong here; that I belong in the Beth Am Community.

            Jews have existed for more than three thousand years.  For nearly as long, there have been Jewish Communities.  Almost every significant event in Jewish history was achieved through community. Whether it was the exodus to Israel, creating the Talmud, or building the state of Israel, these things have been achieved by not just one person, but many people working together, Though the structure of communities have been different in different times, the core values have remained the same, to share ideas, celebrate together, and to take care of one another.  To me, the Beth Am community has fulfilled all of these requirements and so much more.  Though I could go on forever sharing fond memories of this place, I’ll limit myself to a few that were the most meaningful to me.

            I have always considered Beth Am to be my second home.  Maybe that was because between Shabbaton, Hebrew School , and Be A Jewish Star, our theatre program, it seemed like I was always here.  But looking back on it, it wasn’t the fact that I was always coming here that made Beth Am special; it was the people.  Everybody was kind and friendly, even if I didn’t know them.  The atmosphere was so relaxed in class; there never was any pressure to outdo somebody else. 

            Perhaps the best example of this was my Shabbaton mishpacha.  Shabbaton is a Saturday afternoon alternative to Sunday Program.  The thing about Shabbaton that makes it unique is its family learning program.  In it, families are grouped together into mishpachot, or groups of families with children around the same age. The children in our family group ranged from age ten to four and the families came from many different backgrounds.  Even so, we managed to have many important discussions together and we all learned a tremendous amount. 

            I particularly remember the day when we learned about the traditional requirement that ten Jewish men need to be present in order to read Torah.  We kids spent the class role-playing a scenario where it was up to us to figure out ways to convince our fathers of the importance of them coming to Shabbat morning services in order to meet the requirement of the minyon.  When, after many a convincing argument, the tenth dad, Mike Kalb, finally agreed to come to services, we, began jumping up and down, elated by our accomplishment. 

            Shabbaton mishpacha also showed me that kids and adults can have important conversations together and both bring something meaningful to the discussion.  In mishpach, the adults never took control of a conversation and they rarely sat silent during a discussion aimed at teaching kids things that the adults already knew.  Today, even though nearly all the children in our mishpacha have graduated from Shabbaton, our families still get together on a regular basis and I am still very good friends with the other kids, even though only one of them is in my grade.  And I still come to Shabbaton every Saturday, but now as a madricha, a teen aide.  Watching a new group of families getting the opportunity to discuss and share ideas the same way my mishpacha did fills me with an indescribable joy.

            Perhaps the easiest way to spend time in a community is to celebrate.  And at Beth Am, when it comes to celebrations we go all out. Have you seen that ten-foot menorah they put out every year?  And from what I hear some things that go on at Adult Purim definitely exceed expectations.  Some of my best memories of Beth Am have been during our holiday parties.  One that I remember in particular was when I was twelve and my family attended Simchat Torah.

            I remember how excited everybody was.  After all, it isn’t every day that you get to finish the Torah.  There were a lot of little kids there, especially kindergarteners who would be consecrated and receive their first Torah, signifying the beginning of their Jewish studies.  During the service, I remember the Torah winding around the entire sanctuary.  The black letters on the tan parchments looked like little black squiggles from across the room. As we finished reading the Torah, we sang “Hazakh, Hazkah, v’nit hazek”, be strong, be strong, we will srengthen one another. I joined in the song, having learned the words in religious school. 

            And then, the party began.  Excitedly, I grabbed hands with my parents as we began to grapevine in a circle around the dance floor, the Torahs held in the middle of the circle, bouncing up and down.  After a few danced I very timidly walked up to one of the people holding a Torah.  The woman holding it smiled at me and offered it to me.  I stared in surprise, wide-eyed.  Me?  Hold a Torah?  What if I dropped it?  What if I-? But there was no more time to worry, for the Torah was in my arms. As I realized that I was not going to drop it, I began to smile. I could hold a Torah, I was carrying something that reached back thousands of generations. I returned the Torah back to the woman and returned to my parents with a smile on my face.  

            Although sharing knowledge and celebrating are both enjoyable ways of spending time with communities, life isn’t always happy.  Sometimes, hard times hit, a family member gets sick or hurt, or a loved one passes away.  Though these are toughest times in life, it is when the power of a community shows the most.  When I was eight and my grandmother passed away, the phone and doorbell began ringing off the hook.  Dozens of friends called to offer their condolences or sent cards.  Some even stopped by to drop off food and just be with us. Though I couldn’t fully understand the significance gestures at the time, I could tell that my parents greatly appreciated it. 

            As I grew older, I began to see the power of this compassion from the other side.  When one of our family friends lost a relative, I watched as my mom called them, saying that she was thinking of them and that if they needed anything, she’d be there.  And at Beth Am, when we say the Mourner’s Kaddish, it’s not just the mourners who stand up, the whole congregation does.  It shows the bereaved that they are not alone in their grief, their whole Jewish community understands and is there to help.  I soon realized that that feeling of support from your community when you feel the most hopeless is one of the greatest feelings in the world.

            Today, my memories are full remembrances of mourning, celebrating, and learning at Beth Am.  I know that I am incredibly lucky to have had this experience, and it is something that I try not to take for granted.  Especially today, as I stand on the bimah before you, the words that I heard coming from this pulpit four years ago come back to me now, “Hazakh, Hazkah, v’nit hazek”, be strong, be strong, we will srengthen one another. The community at Beth Am has certainly strengthened me and it has taught me. I know that wherever I go, I will always take the experiences I have had here with me.  Just like the silk threads in the tapestry of the Star of David that my paintbrush brushed so many, long, years ago, I, too, am inevitably and irrevocably woven into the Beth Am Community.