Chavurat Lamdeinu
Prayer - Study - Community
Rabbi's Vision of Chavurat Lamdeinu
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Rabbi Ruth Gais
“By Those Near To Me I Will Be Made Holy” (Lev. 10:3)
If someone years ago had told me that I was living in a desert I wouldn’t have
understood her. Then, if I was any kind of Jew at all, I was a secular Jew,
someone who had left the limited Jewish life of her childhood years before
and led a modern, assimilated religion-free existence for a long time. It was
only after I had my own children that I woke up to their need for a life
grounded in something beyond our material culture and, after that, to my
own need for such a life. I sent them to our local synagogue and I went
myself. There I discovered a wonderful, complex, and deep religion that I
began to explore more and more until the only place left for me to go was
rabbinical school.
I emerged from rabbinical school some years later as a rabbi with a burning
desire to communicate my love of Judaism to as many people as I could in
as many ways as I could. I think of my life now as a journey like the one the
Israelites took through the desert after their redemption from slavery. I do
not want to be a solitary wanderer, though. The Israelites were not alone;
they traveled through the wilderness as a sacred community with God in
front of them. I want to be a part of such a community and travel with it
through all that any journey has to offer: the times that are good, the times
that are bad; the moments of sadness, despair, joy, and exaltation that are a
part of life. I want to pray and laugh and weep and grow with this community
and with God.
When the Israelites were wandering, God told them to “make a sanctuary
for Me that I may dwell among you.” (Exodus 25:8). That’s the goal of our
sacred pilgrimage: to work together to make sure that God lives with us, is
near to us. We are partners with God in making this sanctuary, this holy
place for God to dwell in. By so doing, we not only sanctify God but sanctify
each other. To build this sanctuary requires work, commitment, and love. As
a rabbi in this community, I see myself as the foreman of the construction
crew, helping to guide the many builders of the sanctuary by making sure
that there is enough glue, nails and wood for everyone to make a work of art,
a masterpiece, a beautiful dwelling for God.
In this sanctuary, the door is always open to everyone to learn and pray and
be together for each other. In this sanctuary, we spend a lot of time learning.
As we study our sacred texts, we become aware that learning is the key
that opens the door to all Jewish action. Learning will lead us to praying
together with a heightened awareness of the nature of prayer. When we act
together to help each other and to right the manifold wrongs of the world, we
will understand how the deep sense of morality and ethics of Judaism
compels us to do so. My journey is not over; I’m still often in the desert, but I
have a strong sense of God’s guidance. I seek fellow travelers and fellow
builders to begin the construction of our sacred home in the wilderness.
“By Those Near To Me I Will Be Made Holy” (Lev. 10:3)
If someone years ago had told me that I was living in a desert I wouldn’t have
understood her. Then, if I was any kind of Jew at all, I was a secular Jew,
someone who had left the limited Jewish life of her childhood years before
and led a modern, assimilated religion-free existence for a long time. It was
only after I had my own children that I woke up to their need for a life
grounded in something beyond our material culture and, after that, to my
own need for such a life. I sent them to our local synagogue and I went
myself. There I discovered a wonderful, complex, and deep religion that I
began to explore more and more until the only place left for me to go was
rabbinical school.
I emerged from rabbinical school some years later as a rabbi with a burning
desire to communicate my love of Judaism to as many people as I could in
as many ways as I could. I think of my life now as a journey like the one the
Israelites took through the desert after their redemption from slavery. I do
not want to be a solitary wanderer, though. The Israelites were not alone;
they traveled through the wilderness as a sacred community with God in
front of them. I want to be a part of such a community and travel with it
through all that any journey has to offer: the times that are good, the times
that are bad; the moments of sadness, despair, joy, and exaltation that are a
part of life. I want to pray and laugh and weep and grow with this community
and with God.
When the Israelites were wandering, God told them to “make a sanctuary
for Me that I may dwell among you.” (Exodus 25:8). That’s the goal of our
sacred pilgrimage: to work together to make sure that God lives with us, is
near to us. We are partners with God in making this sanctuary, this holy
place for God to dwell in. By so doing, we not only sanctify God but sanctify
each other. To build this sanctuary requires work, commitment, and love. As
a rabbi in this community, I see myself as the foreman of the construction
crew, helping to guide the many builders of the sanctuary by making sure
that there is enough glue, nails and wood for everyone to make a work of art,
a masterpiece, a beautiful dwelling for God.
In this sanctuary, the door is always open to everyone to learn and pray and
be together for each other. In this sanctuary, we spend a lot of time learning.
As we study our sacred texts, we become aware that learning is the key
that opens the door to all Jewish action. Learning will lead us to praying
together with a heightened awareness of the nature of prayer. When we act
together to help each other and to right the manifold wrongs of the world, we
will understand how the deep sense of morality and ethics of Judaism
compels us to do so. My journey is not over; I’m still often in the desert, but I
have a strong sense of God’s guidance. I seek fellow travelers and fellow
builders to begin the construction of our sacred home in the wilderness.