The Blessing of Hope
Last night at the OJC, I offered the following words about the great blessing of hope to my community at our annual congregational meeting. I print them here for anyone who was not there or would like to think about the words once again. Whether or not you are an OJC congregant, I hope that my words shed a small light into this dark time in which we find ourselves. B’yedidut, with friendship, Rabbi Paula Mack Drill
Erev tov. I am aware of the profundity of this moment as I offer Torah for the last time at a congregational meeting as your rabbi. I am rejoicing as I stand here with you, knowing you all and caring so deeply about each one of you. And I am sad because soon I’ll be stepping away from the role as your rabbi to begin Act 3. Blessings and curses. Every moment of life includes both: berakha v’toch’ha, plentiful harvest vs. famine, freedom vs. enslavement – in the concrete understanding as well as spiritual. As our Torah portion this week, Parashat Behukotai, says over and over: im v’im. If, but if.
If we have built something beautiful here together for decades, then God will establish God’s abode in our midst, but if we do not observe and live according to our mission and purpose, then God will… Well, I don’t want to be melodramatic. We are not the Israelites in the desert facing God’s furious curses to “break our proud glory.” Still the point remains: Blessings and curses are made of choices that are squarely in our hands.
As we consider Behukotai, we are taught about the power of faith, the blessings that come from walking in God’s ways, and the profound potential each one of us holds to shape our future with positivity and purpose. In our context tonight, it is even more. We are reminded of the power of faith that radiates from a healthy, aspiring, optimistic synagogue. We know that as a congregation, we learn every day to walk in God’s ways – to connect, create relationship, care for our vulnerable, rejoice in our moments of triumph. And most importantly, to embrace our potential, the potential of each one of us, to shape the future of OJC with positivity and purpose.
Parasha Behukotai begins with a simple yet powerful promise: “If you walk in My ways and keep My commandments and perform them, then I will give you rain in its season, the land will yield its produce, and the trees of the field shall yield their fruit.” This is not just a promise of physical sustenance but by extension, a promise of the spiritual and communal abundance that flows from living lives aligned with our highest values and teachings.
In a world that often feels uncertain and tumultuous, these words offer us a beacon of hope. They remind us that by staying true to our principles, by nurturing our relationships, and by supporting one another, we can continue to create a community that thrives against all odds, that will be a beacon to others, that will stand the test of time. The rains will come, the land will produce, and the trees will bear fruit—not just in the agricultural sense, but in the flourishing of our families and our community.
Im v’im. If, but if. If we take a moment to appreciate the blessings we already have, we can be filled with gratitude and pride. If our community will be strong and vibrant, the individuals who are its heartbeat must contribute their talents, kindness, and energy. If we are surrounded by friends who support us, by leaders who guide us, and by opportunities to make a difference in the world, we will be the best OJC we can be. But if, if we become disengaged, if we stay away, if we show cynicism, if we give up hope, our OJC will not be the place we dream it to be.
So tonight, I encourage all of us to look forward with optimism. Just as the Torah promises rewards for our dedication and hard work, we too can anticipate the fruits of our collective efforts. Step up. Do the work quietly. Give generously. And most of all, remember to acknowledge each other with heartfelt gratitude. Every act of kindness, every lesson taught, every moment of shared joy, every welcome to the kiddush table, every voice lifted to sing Eitz Chaim strengthens the fabric of our community. Together, we can overcome challenges, celebrate our successes, and build a future filled with hope and promise.
May we always see the blessings in our lives, may we cultivate gratitude and joy, and may we walk forward with faith, knowing that together, we can create a world that reflects the beauty, kindness, and divine promise of Torah.
May our work here tonight mark a new beginning with a unique path forward. May OJC be blessed with the knowledge that we are a sacred community that serves not only our congregants but also those in the greater community. We serve not only today but the Jewish future. May we know prosperity and may the anthem of our people also be our anthem: HaTikvah.
A mother’s prayer
Perhaps it was the timing of coming together in these post-October 7 days.
Perhaps it was an escape from all the protests that seem to want to besmirch or obliterate our Jewish identities.
Perhaps it was the complicated vibe of Yom Hazikaron (Israel’s memorial day) and Yom Ha’atzmaut (Israel’s independence day) juxtapositioned back to back, and our desire to connect to that vibe from afar.
Perhaps it was that so many of us were without our mothers, either because of distance or loss, or without children.
Perhaps it was because a young Jewish mother was sitting in front of us on this Mother’s Day morning, having left three of her children overseas, singing to her husband who sat across from her and to us, needing to open her heart and share her music about parents and children and wanting to feel safe in a place she calls home and loving the land and all its problems and wanting no war and wanting her husband to return safely from reserves and believing in peace and needing to spread word about the power of love.
Whatever the reason, what started out in concept as an opportunity to acknowledge Israel’s two days of remembrance and gratitude during this uniquely complicated time was instantaneously transformed into a holy moment. We could not have anticipated the flood of emotion, the sense of hearts opening in our midst, the tear-streaked and smiling faces from the moment Yoni and Nina (“Yonina”) began to sing Al Kol Eleh (“For all these things, watch over me my good Lord, for the honey and the thorn, for the bitter and the sweet”). What might have been a forty-five minute singalong of Israel songs became a timeless ritual of holding our collective breath, inhaling deeply with a sense of wonder, awe and reverence for it all, and then exhaling the exhaustion, anxiety and sadness, only to repeat the exercise with each song.
Yoni and Nina came to us with Rabbi Hersh’s urging early in the spring of 2020. They performed via Zoom monthly on Friday morning to help us connect heading into Shabbat in a time when we could not yet gather physically. Their music, for many of us, has continued to feed us, uplift us, connect us. While we felt this personal appearance was a homecoming for them of sorts, I know they felt the conflict of being away from their one home, their parents, and their children.
For ninety perfect minutes, with the help of their music, lyrics and heartfelt stories, we ascended together out of the time and space that restricts us. We were all home with one another, all connected to our mothers and fathers, all feeling the love we give away coming back to us, all absorbing the resilience and hope shared by these two loving artists.
In their song Melaketet kochavim (“collecting stars”), Nina and Yoni sing to each other from afar, a mother caring for children and home, a father fighting a war, both hoping to reunite safely and soon, holding onto hope that their dreams will soon be realized:
So now I am gathering all of my strength
of kindness, and of faith
that good days are yet to come
that the songs of joy will return to us
and I hug the children tightly
to protect from the storms outside
and in all the craziness
under black skies
I gather stars
Inhale. Read the words and hear the song. Exhale. Repeat.
Happy 76th birthday, Israel. May this year be better than the last, one in which your children’s dreams come true, one in which your hope is realized.
Rabbi Craig Scheff
Reflections on “Walking as Witnesses”
The following is not the typical blog post from the OJC rabbis. It is a daily recap of the OJC-Poland 2024 experience that ended yesterday. It is meant for those who wanted to follow our experiences without resorting to Facebook. It is a bit long, but hopefully you will find it worthwhile reading! Please note, however, that to truly appreciate the emotional arc of our experiences, you really should read to the end….
OJC-Poland 2024: “Walking as Wintesses”
Day One
On the eve of arrival in Poland, leading a group of 32 (mostly from our synagogue community) to Krakow, Majdanek, Lublin and Warsaw, I wrestle with these thoughts:
How do we bear witness and process the inhumanity that was visited upon us? And how do we avoid permitting this victimization to be the primary motivator of our Jewish identification?
How can we make room for empathy towards those who were bystanders (sometimes innocent and sometimes willing), while also holding accountable those who actively participated in our suffering? What can we learn from those who stood up righteously in our defense or in defense of their own humanity?
How do we appreciate Jewish physical and spiritual resistance in spite of Jewish suffering?
How can Poland remain both home and graveyard?
How do we understand Jewish life in Poland today? What is its meaning and mission?
And how does all our wrestling translate into a productive and empowering way to confront our current circumstances as American Jews?
Though this is my third time leading this trip, I anticipate an emotional, challenging and hopefully meaningful week ahead with what seems to be a very special group of people.
Day Two
Our group convened this afternoon to begin our tour of Krakow. After I offered an intention for the days ahead, we set off for the Jewish quarter in Kazimierz.
Our tour guide walked us through the bustling city and into the heart of Jewish life here, home to the world’s largest annual Jewish festival. We visited the Altshul, the Rema Synagogue and Cemetery, and the Temple Synagogue, tracing the history of a Jewish presence dating back to the 15th century.
Our tour ended at JCC Krakow, where we dined and met with CEO Jonathan Ornstein, who shared with us his perspective on the phenomenon of a growing Jewish presence in what many considered a Jewish graveyard. The work that is being done for those discovering Jewish roots is remarkable, and the JCC has become a safe haven and support center for Ukrainian refugees.
We asked ourselves the question earlier today, “why are we here”? After our first experiences in Krakow, we can answer that we are here to witness the resilience of the Jewish people.
Day Three
An early start on a warm and sunny day took us through the lush Polish countryside, out of Krakow and to Auschwitz and Birkenau. As we approached the site of the slaughter of 1.1 million Jews, I could sense the ghosts of the dead walking through the shadows of the dense woods, beckoning us to come bear witness.
Touring the exhibition halls gave us the history of the site’s construction and the story of how Jewish lives were routed to this final destination for so many. More impactful, however, was seeing the belongings of individuals who were given hope that they were heading from a ghetto to somewhere else — a suitcase, a pot. The piles of eyeglasses, prosthetic limbs and hair told us the unimaginable end that was met instead.
We left Birkenau and stopped at the remaining synagogue of the city of Oswiecim (Oswiecim Synagogue), where we had the opportunity to reflect on our personal reactions to the experience. We felt speechless, overwhelmed, sad, angry, scared, determined, resilient, strong, hopeful, all of the above and more. We felt the cognitive dissonance of walking in the sun on a beautiful day along the path that led to death for so many; of the magnificent weather for a space we associate with the color grey; of the bustling life going on all around, and even within, a torture chamber.
We will continue to let the images settle in our brains and the feelings come to rest in our hearts. It’s time to literally and figuratively wash off the dust as we prepare for Shabbat. This evening we will welcome the Sabbath queen as royalty ourselves. We are here, and we are alive. This Shabbat we make our presence known to God, to one another, and to all the ghosts relying on us to continue their legacies.
Day Four
Krakow is a magnificent city. It avoided destruction during multiple wars, in part because the Poles were quick to retreat in an effort to spare their crown jewel, in part because aggressors made it their center of operations. From castles to churches, we were impressed by the scale, opulence and history reflected by its layers of architectural beauty. Crowded and vibrant public squares and outdoor cafes showed us a free and happy society.
So what does it say about Jewish life in Poland if I tell you we had a perfect Shabbat in Krakow, from sundown to Saturday night? A space of our own in our gracious and inviting boutique hotel, a warm and uplifting Kabbalat Shabbat, and a sumptuous kosher dinner prepared by Chef Alon; morning Shabbat tefillah at the Rema Synagogue with locals and visitors, accompanied by melodies both familiar and new (giving me a couple of ideas to bring home!), where I received an aliyah (thanks David Simkins!) and couldn’t help but tear up thinking about what my grandfather z”l would say; a late morning walking tour to the Old Town; an afternoon walk to the site of the Jewish Ghetto and Schindler’s factory; and, of course, Havdalah.
Out of the depths of Friday’s experience at Auschwitz we rose up to feel our souls soar (in stark contrast to our sore soles!), and this morning we once again descend into the pit that was Majdanek.
May we rise once again, Am Yisrael chai.
Day Five
An early departure from Krakow for the long ride to Majdanek was not a given. Despite the inconvenience and the apprehension about committing to experiencing a camp that could be operational in minutes, we knew we had made the right decision immediately upon our arrival.
Simply put, every Jew must see what we saw. It was a comfort to see multiple “March of the Living” groups of teens walking by us, sitting in reflection. On this eve of Yom Hashoah, they are learning the lesson we must all learn: Our Jewish identities and way of life are what has given us the resilience to survive, live and build lives. Our enduring the worst atrocities humans could inflict upon others only proved that we the Jewish People are the source of hope for all humanity.
Sitting in the Yeshiva of Chochmei Lublin, we felt the power that centuries of learning and prioritization of teaching and living Jewishly has brought to our ancestors and continues to provide for our children.
And despite terrible traffic that delayed our arrival in Warsaw by 2 hours, we still managed to hold our own Yom Hashoah commemoration, reflecting on what it means to us in the wake of this experience to be “keepers of the flame”.
Tonight, through the miracle of technology, I was able to share my reflections from this trip on the heroism of my own grandparents, Israel and Sonia Neiman z”l, to see generations representing the survivors of their own families, and to hear Amy Edelstein share her own story. I hope the next 24 hours will provide each of us the opportunity to reflect on what “never forget” means to us in light of where we find ourselves today.
Day Six
Too many people are unaware that the full name of Holocaust Remembrance Day is actually Yom Hashoah v’Hagevurah, meaning the day of remembering the destruction and the heroism.
On this Yom Hashoah, we find ourselves in Warsaw, the place that inspired the full name of the commemoration. The Warsaw Ghetto was obviously a place of terrible suffering as a result of inhumane treatment and living conditions. But while the Nazis tried to strip the Jews of their humanity and ultimately set about liquidating the ghetto, its residents fought until the end. After unexpectedly costing the Nazis soldiers’ lives, resources and time, the persistent and heroic Jews ultimately took their own lives in the face of an overwhelming Nazi military response.
There are few remains of the actual physical ghetto or of the WWII city, given that 85 percent of Warsaw was reduced to rubble. But there are reminders everywhere of Jewish presence, persistence and rebirth, and of the Jewish history that is being rediscovered and examined by so many Polish citizens. From public memorials (plaques, monuments, structures like the deportation platform) to the new Polin Museum, it’s hard to be in Warsaw and not be reminded of the city’s Jewish heritage.
Standing in the Nozyk Synagogue, the only synagogue that remains in Warsaw today, we reflected on the connection between the heroism shown in Warsaw by the likes of Mordechai Anielewicz and the image of the “new Jews” who fought for the establishment of the State of Israel. Our voices echoed in the sanctuary as we sang a prayer for the hostages on this Day 213 of their Gazan captivity, the prayer for the State of Israel, and Am Yisrael Chai.
The Warsaw Jewish cemetery is history told in stone. Parts of the cemetery have been restored with monuments erected symbolically to pay homage to the many greats of Warsaw’s Jewish past. But as Nancy and I went in search of the burial place of our daughter-in-law’s relative who was buried here in 1934, we found ourselves in the deep, dark recesses of an abandoned graveyard with toppled and broken stones, one plot indistinguishable from the next. I felt the shadows closing in on us, and I was reminded of the brutality Jews experienced in a place they once called home.
A day to remember the heroism. A day to remember the destruction. Never again. Never again.
Day Seven
It’s honestly hard to appreciate how we got here without experiencing it for oneself. Considering this emotional roller coaster of a ride we’ve been on and where it started, most of us (if not all) could not have imagined finishing this journey where we did.
Today we took in a presentation from the Polin Museum about the “righteous gentiles” who risked and even gave their own lives protecting Jews. We heard an honest assessment of non-Jewish attitudes towards the Jewish past, and of the ways in which “cultural” antisemitism manifests itself in Polish society.
Today we visited the Jewish Historical Institute, where we saw the written testimonies preserved by “Oyneg Shabbos”, the underground archivists of the Warsaw Ghetto. Their heroic efforts of spiritual resistance have preserved legacies and eyewitness testimonies for Polish and Jewish students of the past.
Today we visited the beautiful Warsaw Zoo, where Jan and Antonina Zabinski hid Jews whom they helped escape from the Warsaw Ghetto, some for days and some for years. We were treated to a piano concert of Chopin and Offenbach, the music Antonina played to signal to the Jews in her basement whether they could emerge from hiding, fall into silence, or head for tunnel that led to the cages beneath the zoo.
We finished our day at the JCC Warszawa, where we dined and learned from CEO Patrycja Dolowy and JDC Entwine fellow Sam Kapner about the continuing revival of Jewish life in Warsaw.
Despite the horrors of the past to which we bore witness, despite the reality that our feet walked above the ruins of Jewish homes, and despite our desire to claim and brandish our victimization against the world, there is a fragrant flowering of Jewish life in Poland. It is youthful, energetic, embracing, and proud. It is unencumbered by the past. It is recognized, appreciated, and even celebrated by non-Jewish Poles.
With great curiosity and a desire for answers, Jewish life is being rediscovered by those with Jewish roots; revealed by those who hid their Jewish identities; explored by those who have recognized that Judaism comprised a substantial piece of Polish history and culture; and remembered by those who don’t want to be condemned to repeat the past. In a Poland that continues to redefine and rebuild itself since its independence from Soviet rule, Warsaw is a safe place to openly identify and practice as a Jew.
Did I just say that?
We heard it from young, proud voices. We heard it from the people who are living it. Who are we to diminish their Jewish enthusiasm, spirit or determination in any way?
As we concluded our night and our Poland experience singing our anthem “Vehi sh’amdah,” the words came out feeling quite different than when we first sang them. May that which has sustained us, despite the enemies in every generation who have sought our destruction, continue enabling us to flourish along with God’s help.
Two Rabbis, One Voice, Three Opinions 
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