Geliebte K'hilla
Rosh Hashana 5764
Ruth L. Potts
©2003
Shabbat Shalom. Hag Samei-ach. Shana Tova. Lots of celebrating, but what exactly are we
celebrating? Last night we talked about the creation of the world. Ha Yom Harat Olam. No cake
that I know of, but a birthday party nonetheless. This morning, we have focused on the creation
of the Jewish People. From the travels of Abraham and Sarah which we read about earlier in this
service, mei-artz'cha, u-mi-molad'cha, u-mi-beit avicha el ha-aretz asher ar-echa, "from your
land and from your birthplace and from your father's house to a land I will show you", to their
descendants descent to the narrow place of Mitzrayim to the return trip through the Sea of Reeds
culminating in the drama at Sinai, our ancestors journeyed physically and spiritually on their way
to The Promised Land. And we honor and celebrate that journey this morning, the journey to
becoming Am Yisrael, the People of Israel, and perhaps more importantly, Klal Yisrael, the
Community of Israel.
The Children of Israel may have been given the Ten Commandments at Sinai, but learning to live
by them required a period of adjustment. Freedom, even with laws, does not automatically
produce a unified, cohesive people, as we have seen most recently in Iraq. It took forty years for
the generation raised in Egypt to die out or transition to a new way of life. It was only a new
generation, one that did not know slavery, nor the leeks and onions, who could cross the Jordan
River. They knew the history. They had heard the stories, but they had not had the experience.
That allowed them the space to see the promise of a new land in the context of slavery, but not
limited by it. They embraced the covenant, as an entire community, and followed Joshua to the
Land promised to Abraham. But after settling the land of Canaan, it took only one generation
after the death of Joshua for the Israelites to stray from that covenant. As we read in Judges
Chapter 2, V'ya-kam dor acheir achareihem asher lo yad-u et Adonai v'gam ha-ma-aseh asher
asa l'yisrael. "And another generation arose after them which did not know Adonai nor the
works God had done for Israel". Sounds very much like, "There arose a new king over Egypt
who did not know Joseph."
Well, it works both ways. Sometimes it's about us and sometimes it about the other guy. Either
way, new generations often stray from the path of their predecessors. Is that organizational
growth or loss of focus? Progress or perversion? Clearly in the case of the Israelites, it was loss
of focus. Throughout the Book of Judges, we read of the Israelites straying from God's
commandments, assimilating to the Canaanite ways, forgetting the teachings of Torah and then
being trounced by their neighbors. Only when they return to Torat Moshe, the Teaching of
Moses, do they live in peace, and then, only until they again do what is offensive to Adonai. It is
not until the reigns of David and Solomon that the Israelites become a unified community, a
k'hilla.
So what is it that makes a k'hilla, a community? How do we define community? It just so
happens that a couple of weeks ago, I was having that very discussion with the first grade at
Aleph Bet Jewish Day School in Annapolis. They were about to embark on a social studies unit
on communities and we were trying to come up with a definition of community. If you were in
first grade, how would you define community? Jenna's definition was the most succinct. It's a
group of people that gets together to do stuff. That simple. But most of us are no longer in first
grade and we know the world isn't that simple. Organizations aren't that simple. So as
grownups, how do we define community?
When I spoke at this service five years ago, I also talked about what makes a group a community.
What I said at that time was, "We're joined together by a common interest, an agreed purpose, a
mutual responsibility and shared memories. Some of those memories may be happy, others not,
but we have provided support for each other regardless. Just as a minyan creates support for
individuals to come together to pray, to celebrate special events and holidays, the minyan also is
required to say kaddish. The mourning process takes place within the community. Sorrow, no
less than joy is a communal responsibility." The issue of communal responsibility, looking out for
one another, seems all the more pertinent this year in the wake, in some places literally, of
Hurricane Isabel. In places devastated by storm surge and downed power lines, adversity united
people. Neighbors in Dundalk ran extension cords across the street when the other side of the
street still had no power. A woman in North Beach, when the Chesapeake had moved a block
and a half inland and there wouldn't be power for days, went searching for an evacuated
neighbor's pets in the middle of the night. And closer to home for me, one of the families at
Aleph Bet was totally flooded out - house, car, everything, all totaled. Their insurance will cover
the house and the car, but not the contents. The PTO at school has engineered a fundraising
campaign to help this family recover. Not only do we hope to ease the loss this member of our
community has suffered, we also hope to teach our children, and their parents, what it means to
be part of a community, what it means to be part of the Aleph Bet family.
What does it mean to be part of this community, this family, this beit mishpacha? As we embark
on a new year, celebrating the creation of this congregation, this k'hilla, 28 years ago, perhaps it's
time to re-examine just what it is that makes Bet Mishpachah a community. Just as the Hebrews
were a mixed multitude coming out of Egypt, so was/is this assembly a diversity of traditions and
experiences, ages and identities all brought together in a unique way, "a rainbow of affections and
sexualities". It is one of the beauties of this congregation and distinguishes it from many other
congregations that were founded on the basis of affiliation or trade or geography.
Did the folks who founded this congregation in 1975 have a clue as to what we'd look like in
2003? Did those who incorporated the organization and drafted bylaws know how we'd grow?
Could they have possibly predicted the acceptance we geliebte Jews have won in the wider Jewish
community? The world was a different place in 1975, but just as Torah has continued to guide us
across many generations, so has the basic structure and mission of this organization. If we look at
those organizing documents, updated slightly to be more inclusive, we can get a definition of who
we are. From the Statement of Purpose as set forth in the bylaws:
The purpose of Bet Mishpachah (also referred to as "the Congregation") shall be to provide a comfortable religious, cultural, and social atmosphere for Jewish gay men, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgendered people, and their friends, families, and allies, in the greater Washington, D.C. Metropolitan area. To do this we must support Jewish tradition, follow the spirit of the Torah, and be a positive vehicle for Jewish religious and cultural expression through regular services and social events.
Note the order of characteristics describing our purpose - religious, cultural, and social.
"Religious" comes first. Does this sound at all familiar? Didn't we just hear how the observance
of Shabbat and adherence to the covenant gather us into God? Tachat confei ha-shechina, under
the wings of the Shechina. In the haftara Jocelyn just read, the prophet teaches,"Preserve justice
and do what is right." Happy is the person who elevates Shabbat from the ordinary. What the
haftara teaches as individual behavior is our mission as an organization. From the Greek for
assembly, a synagogue is "a local assembly of Jews organized chiefly for public worship", as
defined in Webster's Third International. As stated in the congregational policies, "Bet
Mishpachah is first and foremost a synagogue." So our primary responsibility is to provide
comfortable public worship. I think the services we provide are comfortable, even if at times
challenging. But do we still think that providing religious services is our primary responsibility? I
know those of us involved in scheduling, staffing, training and composing liturgy do, but how
does the rest of the community perceive its role?
As I mentioned earlier, organizations have an evolution. Growth or loss of focus? Progress or
perversion? This dilemma isn't limited to organizations. Modern social/political movements have
encountered the same situation, whether the Labor Movement, the Women's Movement, the Civil
Rights Movement, or the Gay Rights Movement. The founders work hard for their cause; they
achieve a measure of success, changing institutions sufficiently that the successive generations
take for granted the new reality and no longer feel a need for the movement that created their
comfort. The movements lose membership and energy. They may even fizzle out unless the
leaders vigilantly maintain their focus. Too often, the next generation does not have the
motivation to carry on because they've never known a different reality. In the last 15 months, we
have reached two milestones for which the underlying progress is at risk. Many of us celebrated
the 30th anniversaries of Title IX and Roe v. Wade. But to many of those who have never lived
without these two protections, the events went by unnoticed. I was appalled that Sports
Illustrated for Women, which would not have even been a concept without Title IX, did not even
acknowledge the date. Both measures are currently under scrutiny and I don't know if there is
enough support from those too young to have fought for those rights to preserve them.
On the other hand, what of the increasing acceptance, even solicitation, of GLBT families at
"mainstream" congregations? Five congregations in addition to Bet Mish are listed in the Blade's
weekly religious calendar and at least one more advertised its High HolyDay children's services in
last week's issue. The Supreme Court has struck down the Texas "Homosexual Conduct Law" in
Lawrence & Garner v. Texas. Presidential candidates are evaluated on their positions on gay
marriage in more media than just the gay press. In this kind of environment, what is the role of
GLBT shuls? Are twenty-somethings so comfortable being out that attending a primarily gay
synagogue is like being in the closet to them? Now that we've gotten to where we thought we
wanted to be are we sure we want to be here?
If there is still a need/desire for geliebte Jewish institutions, how do we maintain a vibrant
organization over an extended period of time? How do we keep up with the competition? With
my organizational development kippa on, I'd say the organization must change with the changing
needs of its membership. But with a different kippa on, my answer would be, the mission of this
organization is "x". If you don't like it, go somewhere else and form your own organization. For
this organization, this mishpacha, we need to do both. We need to be relevant, welcoming to
the"next generation"within the framework of our mission. We need to be what those other
synagogues can never be. We are first and foremost a geliebte synagogue. What that synagogue
looks like is up to you. If you want Friday night services to be different, join the Religious Affairs
Committee or participate in Service Leader Development and lead your own service. If social
justice is what connects you to Judaism, chair the Social Action Committee. If you want more
social events join the Social Activities Committee. Provide support to other members of our
community through Bikkur Cholim or Bereavement Support. If your skills are in communication,
work on the newsletter, handle publicity or share your experiences with other organizations
through the Speakers Bureau. Take an active role in the life of this congregation. That's what
will insure its vitality. That's what will reaffirm our mission.
This Rosh HaShana, as we celebrate the Birthday of the World and the formation of the Jewish
People, make this k'hilla, this community part of your mishpacha, your family. In this new year,
follow the spirit of the Torah by preserving justice and doing what is right; look out for one
another; and be part of a group, a geliebte group, that does stuff together.
Shana Tova u-m'tuka.
Note: Larry Neff came up with the idea of pronouncing GLBT as the Yiddish word Geliebte, which means "beloved."
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This page last modified on Sunday, November 30, 2003 at 06:35 PM EST.