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Installation
of Rabbi
Benjamin Sharff
Re'eh
5765 Sermon, September 2, 2005
Rabbi
Robert Sharff, D. Min.
Thank you for your introduction. I begin tonight in prayer. First, because
it is the rabbinic thing to do. Second, because I believe it will prevent me
from breaking down into tears. You see, I have participated in the
installation of many rabbis but this is the first time for my son. (Just in
case I have brought this Texas size handkerchief.)
Mi sheberach avotenu vemotenu. May the God who blessed our mothers
and fathers bless this holy congregation, together with all other holy
congregations, their families and all who belong to them. Also, those who
unite to form synagogues for prayer, and those who enter therein to pray.
Those who give the lamps for lighting, and donated wine for kiddush and
Havdallah, who give bread to the wayfarer and Tzedakah to the underprivileged
and all who generously donate their time to care faithfully for the needs of
the congregation. May the Holy One, praised be God, send blessing and
prosperity upon the work of their hands as well as upon all Israel. And let us
say, Amen.
This was a modern translation of a Mi Shebeirach prayer that is
found in the traditional prayer book during the Torah service. It comes
immediately after a series of family prayers. For right after the family, the
synagogue is the center of modern Jewish life. Just like our families, we Jews
adore and treasure our houses of worship. Here we find peace, love and
direction. In these very pews we share both the joys and sorrows of our lives.
A few short years ago Rabbi Cohon and I participated in a rabbinic trip to
Hungary and the Czech Republic. One of the goals of this small group was to
visit the remaining synagogues and to meet with those trying to revive Judaism
in a very challenging environment. In Budapest we visited the largest
synagogue building in Europe. Rabbi Cohon sang a negun with its cantor.
We spent Shabbat with the new reform congregation, Sim Shalom. They met in a
converted apartment and together we experienced a Gates of Prayer book service
in Hebrew and Hungarian. As I was the only one of the rabbis present that had
the experience of starting a congregation from scratch, I was invited to speak
and had the pleasure of hearing my words translated into Hungarian. These were
good moments. But for me the real blaze of enlightenment came the next week in
the Czech Republic down of Terezin.
Terezin is a walled village. Its apartments were constructed by the Austro
Hungarian government to those the families of soldiers who were serving in a
nearby fort. When Czechoslovakia was annexed by the Nazis, this place was
transformed into a ghetto remembered best by the poem "I Never Saw
Another Butterfly." Since the conclusion of the war, Czech workers moved
into most of the apartments and Terezin is now a working class community
complete with stores and schools. Just a part of one building was turned into
a Holocaust museum and there is a cemetery and memorial just outside the
walls.
For years people had searched for the ghetto synagogue of Terezin. Of
course it was forbidden to have one, but rumors persisted that one had
existed. The summer before our visit it was finally located. A merchant
cleaned out his basement where he had always stored potatoes and, low and
behold, there it was. How do we know this bare room was their synagogue? On
the walls the inmates had beautifully painted all the Shabbat symbols and
under each in bold black letters was the proper vocalized blessing. As we
stood in the middle of this dim dank place we could close our eyes and
visualize the service their rabbi, Leo Baeck of blessed memory, would point to
the appropriate place and the congregation, just like here at Emanu-El, would
sing the prayer. Imagine, on pain of death we Jews still created holy places
of worship!
350 years ago when the Jews came to America we brought our families, our
candle sticks our challah recipes and our dreams of creating new houses of
worship. But in the United States formal religion was to operate under a
different system. There was separation of church and state. Here religious
people had to give an extra measure of their income to bring their dream to
reality. And so we did. In Newport, New York, and Philadelphia synagogues were
dedicated. So we new Americans had the building, the dedicated lay leaders.
Now we needed Rabbis. At first we sent back to Europe and brought them over by
boat. Then we decided to train our own. The congregations banded together and
created the Hebrew Union College. The first campus was located in Cincinnati.
(We have now added additional locations in New York, Los Angeles and
Jerusalem). We needed students. Our founder, Rabbi Isaac Meyer wise, setup a
recruiting system for men, and now women, that exists till this very day.
This is where my son Ben comes in. Ben was six weeks old when I applied for
my first rabbinic position at the Ohef Shalom Temple in Norfolk, VA. I recall
him taking a nap on the couch of the senior rabbi as I answered tough
questions about rituals and Jewish practice. He was a big hit with the
congregation. A few years later we moved to liberal synagogue in Baton Rouge.
Here he began to attend religious school regularly and loved to dress up for
Purim. I recall a homemade Superman costume with a shin on the front. His Bar
Mitzvah sermon delivered at Congregation Jewish Community North in Spring,
Texas was very well received. In addition to religious school Ben was a camper
and then a counselor at our URJ Greene Family Camp in Bruceville, Texas
(located just down the road from Crawford, Texas - but that is a different
sermon). All in all, his favorite camp experience was the summer he spent in
Israel. Ben was also active in the Texas Oklahoma Federation of Jewish Youth.
After graduating from high school he went off to Austin to attend the
University of Texas. While there, we participated in Hillel and at some point
decided to become a rabbi, so he did. During the course of rabbinic training
he was involved in a wedding and met the love of his life, Joy Gur-Lavi, who
was raised in Atlanta. They were married before his senior year. Joy's parents
are wonderful people. In fact, Meir and Miriam are here in the sanctuary
tonight. After graduation Ben needed a place to begin his career and, as a
wonderful coincidence, Temple Emanu-El of Tucson was seeking a new assistant
rabbi.
How to bring them together? American democracy has had an interesting
effect on both the synagogue and the rabbinate. They are now under the control
of the basic building block of the democratic way of life: the committee. The
congregation has a search committee; the rabbis have a placement committee.
So, your people talked to his people. A meeting was set up and now we are
here. I know in my heart Ben will be a wonderful rabbi for you. He will use
his education, talents and abilities to assist Rabbi Cohon and to serve Temple
Emanu-El. He and Joy will love you and care for you. I ask that you will let
him grow in his religious life and that you, in turn, will care and support
his family. Temple Emanu-El is blessed with two wonderful rabbis. They fulfill
a promise made to our prophet Jeremiah, "I will give you shepherds after
my own heart, who shall nurture you with knowledge and understanding." As
we say in Texas, "May y'all continue to grow from strength to
strength."
We are a small family; most of us are here tonight so I invite you to join
my wife Linda, his brother Micah, his aunt Barbara and Uncle Gordon, our
machatonim Meir and Miriam Gur-Lavi mishpacah, Jasmin Levenson & Shirley
Ward as we say a Shehecheyanu in honor of this moment.
Shabbat
Shalom.
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