Guidelines

Dear All,

We hope this note finds you as well as any of us can be in these pandemic times. Several of you have asked why CBI’s doors are not yet “open,” given that the viral load in MA is currently relatively low. The short answer is: because pikuach nefesh, preserving life, is a paramount Jewish value. We are keeping our offerings digital in order to keep each other safe.

In this moment, CBI is still offering all of our services (Shabbat and holidays) and classes via Zoom. The same is true of most synagogues around the nation. Current science shows that singing, even outdoors and masked, spreads viral particles and is not safe. We’ve also learned in recent months that being indoors with others where air is recirculated is especially dangerous.

We have watched as houses of worship around the nation have “reopened” for in-person gatherings… and then been obligated to close again because of covid-19. We do not want the virus to spread in our synagogue community. We’re also aware that the virus is especially dangerous to elders, to the immunocompromised, and to people with preexisting conditions.

For these reasons, as much as we miss being together in person, as of now our discernment continues to be that it’s better to gather digitally for prayer, holidays, and learning. That’s how we can do our part to limit the spread of the virus, and it is how we can keep each other safe in accordance with the core Jewish value of preserving and protecting life.

We are in regular contact with the URJ, with other synagogues in the county, and with clergy around the nation, and we will continue to learn everything we can about how to safely steward CBI through this. These are extraordinarily difficult times, and they ask us to rise to the occasion of taking care of each other by — for now — continuing to stay physically apart.

And: we hear that there is a desire to be together in person outdoors while we can safely do so. We are planning an outdoor, masked, socially distant, no-singing Shabbat morning service at CBI at 9:30am on September 5, led by Rabbi Rachel.

Please RSVP to let us know if you will attend that service so we know how many chairs to set up on our patio / outside the synagogue building. During that service, our bathrooms will be open for you to use at your own risk. (If it rains that day, we’ll offer services over Zoom instead.)

Our building remains closed for pandemic reasons. Our administrator Ollie Jones is reachable via e-mail and phone, as are both of us.

We hope you will join us on Sept. 5 outdoors, and on Zoom for Shabbat each week and for the Days of Awe. And keep an eye out for Rabbi Rachel’s weekly emails between now and Rosh Hashanah, which offer suggestions for how to make the most of Zoom community and prayer experiences. (Here’s the most recent one, which also contains links to the previous two.)

Being present to each other and to community is even more important in these pandemic times. We’re grateful to you for being a part of CBI.

Blessings to all,

Chris Kelly (for the Board of Directors) and Rabbi Rachel Barenblat

6a00d8341c019953ef0240a4ce9b56200dI made it three verses into this week’s Torah portion, Eikev, before being brought up short:

“And if you do obey these rules and observe them carefully… God will ward off from you all sickness…” (Deut. 7:12, 15)

My first thought was: wow, that verse has not aged well in this coronavirus moment. As we watch illness ravage the nation like a wildfire, the promise of health and safety feels off-key. Or at least, the connection between doing mitzvot and being healthy feels off-key, because it suggests that someone who falls ill  is somehow wicked, or is not following Torah’s instructions for spiritual and ethical living.

And then I thought: there’s another way to read these verses.

This isn’t about whether or not a single individual does what’s right. We all know that it’s possible to lead a spiritual and ethical life, rich with mitzvot, and still fall ill. And we all know that it’s possible to do all the right things in this pandemic — washing our hands, wearing our masks, socially-distancing and staying home — and yet still be at risk of falling ill if someone carrying the virus coughs on us.

But what if Torah is trying this week to teach us that what matters is for the collective to do what’s right? For the community to pull together and together commit to following the best practices that science and authentic spiritual life can offer us… not (only) for our own sakes but also for the sake of others who may be older, or medically vulnerable, or living with preexisting conditions that put us at greater risk?

“When we obey these mitzvot and observe them carefully,” that’s how God protects us from sickness, acting through us in the ways we care for each other. It’s not a guarantee that no one will get sick — nothing can offer that guarantee — but it’s what’s in our hands to do. As we sometimes sing on Friday nights, “Ours are the arms, the fingers, the voices.” Ours are God’s hands, and this moment calls us to turn our hands toward keeping each other safe.

“And if you do obey these rules and observe them carefully…” The classical tradition links this back to Exodus 15, where God similarly tells us that if we follow the mitzvot and do all the right things, then God won’t plague us with the unnatural illnesses that the tradition sees as divine punishment. “Ki ani YHVH rofecha,” says Torah (Ex. 15:26) — “For I am YHVH your Healer.”

One way to understand that is as a lesson about the interconnectedness of all things, and how our choices have collective impact. If we don’t take care of the planet’s fragile environment, then the conditions will be right for newer and more terrible illnesses to arise and spread. But if we do what’s right by our planet, then we protect ourselves and each other from that terrible outcome.

This too feels to me like a teaching about our responsibility to each other and to the whole of which we are a part. When we act in ways that take care of our planet, when we act in ways that take care of each other and protect each others’ health, we are embodying the aspect of God that we call Healer.

It’s poignant to read these verses on the runway to the Days of Awe. Usually at this season we’re preparing for our community’s biggest in-person gatherings of the year. This year’s Days of Awe will be different. Our challenge this year is to make our homes into sacred space, and to find connections in each others’ faces and voices over Zoom, as we protect each other by staying physically apart.

I know that for some of us, the prospect of Zoom-based High Holidays feels like a loss. Maybe we can’t imagine how it will work. Or we’re tired of Zoom and wish life could go back to normal. Or we’re afraid it won’t feel meaningful and real the way we want it to. Those feelings of loss are real, and I honor them. (I even share them.) And… I believe that these are the mitzvot the current moment asks of us.

This moment asks us to practice the mitzvah of masking, the mitzvah of social distancing, the mitzvah of gathering over Zoom.  So that we can keep covid-19 out of our beloved community, and in so doing, can hasten the day when we will all be able to gather safely in person again, here and everywhere.

 

This is Rabbi Rachel’s d’varling from Shabbat morning Zoom services at CBI (cross-posted to Velveteen Rabbi.)

 

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IcNzg50fw7g]

This is the second post in a series; the first was Seven weeks until Rosh Hashanah. This one is available as a YouTube video (embedded above — or here at YouTube) and also as text that appears below.

Dear CBI Members and Friends,

Today I’m writing with an invitation to think about how to make our home prayer space feel like sacred space. 

When the Temple was destroyed so long ago, we had to learn how to connect with God and holiness and tradition from smaller sacred spaces in all the places to which we were scattered. (That’s how the synagogue became the center of Jewish life and practice.) In today’s pandemic reality, we’re in a new kind of diaspora — scattered into our homes for safety’s sake. We need to learn how to sanctify our homes, how to make our home-spaces feel holy.

Many of us use the same table for meals, for homework or paying bills, and for joining Zoom services. (And we likely use the same laptop or tablet or phone for secular purposes and for sacred ones, too.) How can we transform a home-space into a prayer-space, and how can we use our devices to help us focus instead of distracting us? Here are some ideas:

  • a festive tablecloth on which to place your laptop or tablet or streaming device;
  • a scarf or piece of pretty fabric to use as a table runner to make it extra-special;
  • a vase in which to put flowers on your festive table;
  • candlesticks in which to light festival candles on the eve of each holiday;
  • a framed photograph of loved ones on your table next to your Zoom device, to connect you with family and friends in this pandemic time (this may be especially meaningful on Yom Kippur when we say Yizkor memorial prayers);
  • go for a walk in the beautiful Berkshire outdoors and find beautiful objects in nature (stones, shells, pebbles) to place on your table.

I’ve found that putting down a tablecloth makes a big difference — it transforms the table where I pay bills and my kid plays Minecraft into a table that evokes Shabbat and seder and other special times. For the Days of Awe, I’m thinking about making a centerpiece out of a bowl of apples and pomegranates to remind me of the season.

On a more prosaic note, when it comes to Zoom services, I recommend closing other apps or windows or browser tabs once services begin (and silencing all notifications on our cellphones and tablets until services are over). This way we can make ourselves fully present to the liturgy and to each other, rather than allowing our devices to distract us from the holy work we’re coming together to do.

May our journey toward the Days of Awe be meaningful and sweet!

Rabbi Rachel

Edited to add: Here’s a sketchnote by my friend and colleague Steve Silbert, created to accompany this post!

Dear Congregation Beth Israel members and friends,

I’ll never forget my mother’s first video call. My son was an infant, and she lived two thousand miles away. We arranged her first Skype call so she could visit the baby. I remember her amazement: that we could not only speak long-distance, but see each other, too! In later years, as her illness progressed and travel became impossible, we took comfort in lighting Shabbat candles together each week over video. It wasn’t “the same” as being together in person, but it was still real connection. It still mattered. It still touched our hearts.

Being together on Zoom isn’t “the same” as being together in person, but it’s still real connection. In these pandemic times, we need real human connection more than ever. This year’s Days of Awe will be unlike any other. Because of the pandemic, our building remains closed. It’s not safe for us to gather. Our High Holidays this year will be over Zoom videoconferencing, like our Shabbat services since the pandemic began. I know that this is not what we would wish… but it is the way to keep each other safe.

Being together over Zoom is real connection. If we bring our open hearts, we can experience our togetherness as real togetherness. We can experience prayer from our own homes as real prayer. Over these first months of pandemic I’ve been learning how to lead prayer over Zoom skillfully, how to work with the medium to take advantage of its unique opportunities, how to use images and music to enliven the experience. I’ve also been meeting with colleagues regularly to brainstorm, to harvest best practices, and to dream together about how we can make this year’s High Holidays meaningful and sweet.

Here are a few things I know already:

When we meet for the Days of Awe, we’ll use a special version of our regular machzor (high holiday prayerbook) designed to be shared over the screen. You won’t need a book: the words and images will appear on your screen alongside our faces. We’ll have ample opportunities to connect with each other. Our services will balance things that are familiar (this year more than ever, our hearts and souls will need some familiar melodies) and things that are new to this new medium. There will be music, there will be stirring words, there will be togetherness. (And services will be shorter than you expect, because I know that “Zoom fatigue” is real!) I’ll reach out regularly in the weeks leading up to the Days of Awe, offering tips and suggestions on how to prepare ourselves and our homes for this unprecedented holiday season.

Change is not new to Jewish life. When the Temple fell, we made the radical shift to offering the words of our hearts instead of animal sacrifices… and we made the radical shift from gathering for festivals in one centralized location (Jerusalem) to gathering in synagogues wherever in the world we might be. Today’s pandemic realities ask us to shift from gathering in synagogue buildings, to creating holy space from the many places where we are. Long ago our sages said that the Shabbat table is a “tiny altar,” a place of connection with God and with holiness. Now we make that even more true, by gathering via Zoom from our dining tables — our homes becoming portals to sacred space and community connection even when we are sequestered apart.

Although our building is closed, our community is open, and we still need your support. We continue to incur ongoing personnel, utilities, and maintenance expenses, and our staff has been working remotely to ensure that service to our members is uninterrupted. Book discussion groups, our refugee support committee, weekly Shabbat services and meditation services, Yizkor memorial services throughout the year, adult education offerings, and when fall comes around, Hebrew school: all of these continue, remotely, from the places where we are.

Your donations to our high holiday appeal this year will support all of these. They will also support digital infrastructure for these unique Days of Awe, which will help us to better serve our homebound members even after this pandemic is past. They will enable us to preserve our beautiful building so that when we can safely gather in person again, our physical home is ready for us to return. And they will support the continued flourishing of Jewish life in northern Berkshire.

Jewish tradition teaches that even one who receives tzedakah (e.g. someone who is fiscally struggling and needs to ask for support) must also give tzedakah. When we give, we prime the pump of blessing. When we give, we become part of the chain of giving that brings hope and abundance to the world. Please give as you are able to support CBI in these difficult times. The only donation that is too small is none at all.

We look forward to being with you at the Days of Awe this year — via video, and more importantly, via the heart-connections between us. Thank you for being a part of CBI.

Blessings,

Rabbi Rachel Barenblat
and Chris Kelly, President

Make a donation online via PayPal today!

On Digital Spiritual Life & The Jewish Future:

These two sermons were written for a Shabbat retreat, held over Zoom in June, focused on the question: how do we connect with each other and with Judaism online during these pandemic times, and what does that mean for the future of Jewish life?

  • Being Real, Digital Edition — about connection, “virtual” and “real,” and the spiritual importance of bringing our whole selves to connection with each other and our traditions during these pandemic times and always — by R’ Rachel Barenblat
  • The Mishkan’s Next Digital (R)Evolution — about Jewish life and change, and the spiritual implications of making a “mishkan” (a sacred space / a connection place with God) at our home dining tables during these pandemic times — by R’ David Markus

cloud“When the cloud lifted, they would break camp…” (Numbers 9:21)

This week’s Torah portion, B’ha’a’lotkha, describes, again, how the children of Israel would stay put when the cloud of God lingered over their encampment, and when the cloud lifted they would break camp and resume their journeys. Wait, didn’t we read this back in March? (Indeed we did: the end of the book of Exodus contains strikingly similar language.)

This repeated motif — the cloud, the journey, the waiting — gives a sense of timeless time. (A bit like what many of us have been feeling in recent months, unmoored from regular schedules.) When the cloud is here, we’re fogged-in. Is it March, or is it June? Is it then, or is it now? When will we be able to start moving again? How long are we going to be waiting like this?

Am I talking about the Israelites on their journey, or about us in the midst of turmoil and pandemic?

The image of the cloud makes me think of “the cloud of unknowing.” (That’s the title of an anonymous work of Christian mysticism, written in the fourteenth century.) The author of the Cloud of Unknowing argues that the way to know God is to give up on trying to understand. It’s in surrender to not-knowing that we meet the Infinite.

In our moment, we need to surrender to a lot of not-knowing. We don’t know when the pandemic will be over. Whether we were exposed to the virus on that most recent trip to the grocery store. Whether the Black Lives Matter protests will result in the kind of sustained, systemic change that our nation so sorely needs. There’s so much that we don’t know.

The haftarah portion assigned to this week is also assigned to Shabbat Chanukah, probably because this week’s Torah portion speaks of the golden menorah that stood in the mishkan. It’s from the book of Zechariah. And here’s its most famous line. In Debbie Friedman’s singable translation, it’s “Not by might, and not by power, but by Spirit alone shall we all live in peace!”

Not by might, and not by power. That feels like a message for our times, both on a macro scale and on a personal one. How do we reach wholeness and peace? Not by grasping for control or imagining that we’re in charge. Not with military might in any of its forms. Not by pretending the pandemic away or pretending systemic racism away. Not with platitudes or false certainty.

The path to shalom and shleimut, wholeness and peace, is through spirit. And this week’s Torah portion offers a road map. We get there by recognizing that all of life is spiritual life — both the times of waiting and the times of action. Times when the cloud is low over the camp and we have to shelter-in-place, and times when the cloud lifts and we can be on the move.

We get to wholeness and peace both by pursuing justice with all that we are, and by surrendering to everything we can’t know about how we’re going to get there from here. It’s not an either/or: it’s a both/and. If we wait until we feel fully ready we might never act at all, and, if we imagine we know all the answers we’re guaranteed to be wrong. We need humility and chutzpah.

“Not by might and not by power, but by spirit.” The Hebrew word for “spirit” here, ruach, can also be translated as breath. I find a message in that for our current moment too. We reach wholeness not through pursuing power, but through ensuring that everyone can breathe freely. When all of God’s children can breathe, that’s wholeness and peace.

Eric Garner’s last words were “I can’t breathe.” George Floyd’s last words were “I can’t breathe.” Racism, like coronavirus, steals the breath. Just this morning we sang nishmat kol chai — “Breath of Life, the breath of all that lives praises Your name.” We name God as the Breath of Life. When a human breath is diminished, it’s as though God were diminished.

We don’t know when the cloud will lift — when justice will roll like thunder and righteousness like a mighty stream. (Amos 5:24) We don’t know when the cloud will lift — when the pandemic will end and it will be safe to return to the world again. We only know that right now, we’re in the cloud. It’s hard to see how we get there from here. But that doesn’t exempt us from trying.

Our task is to protect ourselves and each other during these pandemic times. To end racism in all its forms. To cultivate the chutzpah of believing we can make the world a better place alongside the humility of knowing that we don’t have all the answers. When the cloud lifts, we move forward. When the cloud doesn’t lift, we do what we can to build justice right here where we are.

This is the d’varling that R’ Rachel offered at CBI’s Zoom services this Shabbat (cross-posted to Velveteen Rabbi).

Today is an interfaith National Day of Mourning and Lament for the more than 100,000 victims of COVID-19 in our nation and many more around the world. We mourn the suffering and loss of life in this pandemic and grieve that much of the pain and bereavement has struck communities of color and low income. Our hearts go out to all affected.

At 12 noon and at 5pm today, we invite you to pause to remember and reflect, and to hold the victims of this pandemic and the victims of racism in your hearts and prayers. At noon, the church bells of St. John’s, and at 5pm, the bells of First Congregational in Williamstown will sound in sorrow.

From 5:00 to 5:30 pm people will stand 10 feet apart, wearing masks, to line Main Street/Route 2 in Williamstown, holding signs of prayer, grief, and solidarity in the wish for renewal. Rabbi Rachel will be among them.

May the Source of Peace bring comfort to all who are bereaved, and strengthen us in our pursuit of justice and healing for all.

Here’s a short video message from Rabbi Rachel, including a prayer-poem by Beth Schafer:

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RjrEBItVTSk]

If you can’t see the embedded video, you can go directly to it here.

The Israelites shall camp each with his standard, under the banners of their ancestral house; they shall camp around the Tent of Meeting at a distance. (Numbers 2:2)

Tn this week’s Torah portion, Bamidbar, we read how the twelve tribes would encamp around the mishkan (the dwelling place for God) and the ohel moed (the tent of meeting). Each tent was at an appropriate distance from every other. In normal years, I’ve resonated with the idea that the tents were arranged at a distance to give each household appropriate privacy.

(That comes from Talmud, which explicates “Mah tovu ohalecha Ya’akov,” “how good are your tents, O [house of] Jacob,” to say that our tents were positioned so that no household was peeking in on any other. What was “good” about our community was healthy boundaries.)

This year, of course, the idea of camping at a distance from each other evokes the physical distancing and sheltering-in-place that we’ve all been doing for the past few months of the covid-19 pandemic.

Sometimes distance is necessary for protection and safety. Like our tents in the wilderness positioned just so. Like the physical distance between us now, each of us in our own home, coming together in these little boxes on this video screen.

But notice this too: our spiritual ancestors set up their physically-distanced tents around the mishkan and the ohel moed, the dwelling-place for God and the tent of meeting. The place of encounter with holiness, and the place of encounter with community.

Here we are, each in her own tent. This week’s Torah portion reminds us that our tents need to be oriented so that we all have access to the Divine Presence — and so that we all remember we’re part of a community.

When the Temple was distroyed by Rome almost two thousand years ago, our sages taught that we needed to replace the Beit HaMikdash — the House of Holiness, the place where God’s presence was understood to dwell — with a mikdash me’aht, the tiny sanctuary of the Shabbes table.

When we bless bread and wine at our Shabbat table, we make that table into an altar, a place of connection with God. That feels even more true to me now, as I join this Zoom call from my Shabbes table! In this pandemic moment, our home tables become altars: places where we encounter God and constitute community even more than before.

“Let them make Me a sanctuary that I might dwell among them,” God says. Or — in my favorite translation — “that I might dwell within them.” We make a mishkan so that God can dwell within us.

That feels even more true to me now too… as our beautiful synagogue building waits patiently for the time when it will be safe for us to gather together in person again. Until then, we need to learn to find — or make — holiness in where we are. We need to learn to find — or make — community even though we’re apart.

Our distance from each other protects us. And maybe more importantly, it protects those who are most vulnerable in our community: the elderly, the immunocompromised, those with preexisting conditions who are especially at-risk in this pandemic time. Pikuach nefesh, saving a life, is the paramount Jewish value. For the sake of saving a life we are instructed to do anything necessary, even to break Shabbat.

Being apart is painful and hard and it is one hundred percent the right thing to do — and the Jewish thing to do.

So we’re at a distance. So were our ancestors, as this week’s Torah portion reminds us. Our task is to make sure that our tents are positioned so that there’s space for God, and space for our community connections. So that God and community are the holy place in the middle. The place toward which all of our tents are oriented, toward which all of our hearts are oriented. Even, or especially, when we need to be apart.

Shabbat shalom.

 

This is the d’varling that Rabbi Rachel offered at Kabbalat Shabbat services over Zoom this week. (Cross-posted to Velveteen Rabbi.)

 

Dear CBI Community,

This has been an extraordinarily difficult and painful time. We all dream of the day when we can safely gather in person again. And, epidemiologists are clear that SARS-CoV-2 (aka covid-19) will not disappear quickly, and our journey to safely gathering in person again may not be linear. All we can do is listen to scientists, do our best to plan prudently for a couple of months at a time, and build flexibility into every plan.

The document that follows draws on the most recent guidance from the CDC and the White House, and — connecting this guidance with Jewish teachings and values — imagines what community activity at CBI might look like in months to come. Again, we expect that progress through these stages will not be linear. We anticipate moving back and forth through these stages of openness in response to the public health situation.

Our Guiding Jewish Values:

  • Pikuach nefesh – saving life. We will prioritize the safety of staff and congregants, and the safety of those most vulnerable to infection, as well as the general public health, in accordance with this core Jewish value.
  • Savlanutpatience. We will “open up” as slowly as we need to, even though our hearts yearn for connection. We will cultivate patience as we walk this path.
  • Kol Yisrael arevim zeh l’zeh – We are all responsible for one another. We act in accordance with this value always.

A note on singing: There is still a lot we don’t know, and research is ongoing. However, several studies suggest that the aerosolized particles released when we sing are significantly more than when we talk, and cannot safely be contained with a cloth mask. This may mean that until we have a widespread vaccine, we will not be able to sing when a group is gathered, even to chant aliyah blessings. We will discern when we should gather in person and abstain from singing, and when we should gather online where we can hear individual leaders sing and each sing in our own homes. 

We know that scientific understanding of best practices will change over time, and our understanding of the science will change. Here is how we are thinking and planning at this moment.

Stay safe. During this time of physical distancing, we carry each other in our hearts. 

The CBI Board and Rabbi Rachel

 


Guidelines for Gathering 

Version 1.0 – Ratified by the CBI Board on May 22, 2020.

We are here now:

PHASE ZERO: Safer at home

  • All gatherings (services, classes, committee meetings) take place online, streamed from individual homes.
  • Staff meetings are online or via phone.
  • All individual appointments are online or via phone.
  • Minimal, drop-in staffing sufficient for essential operations (deposits, mail processing, etc).
  • We presume that we will need to offer High Holiday services in a new way this year, to be experienced from the safety of home.

 


PHASE ONE: Very small groups (up to 10 with distancing and facial masks) – start date TBD by CBI Board

CDC / White House Minimum Criteria for Phase One:

  • Downward trajectory of influenza-like and covid-like symptoms reported within a 14-day period;
  • Downward trajectory of documented cases within a 14-day period;
  • Downward trajectory of positive cases as a percent of total tests within a 14-day period (flat or increasing volume of tests);
  • Hospitals can treat all patients without crisis care;
  • Robust testing program in place for at-risk healthcare workers.

Summary: All vulnerable individuals (e.g. elderly, immunocompromised, those with preexisting conditions) should continue to shelter in place. When in public (including parks and outdoor recreation areas), all individuals should maximize distance from others and wear PPE. Social settings of more than 10 people should be avoided. Non-essential travel should be minimized, and individuals should isolate following travel.

Guidelines and Expectations for CBI Community Life during Phase One:

  • Continue holding online services.
  • Committees and other groups continue to meet online.
  • Limit in-office functions to essential operations; encourage tele-working. If more than one person needs to be in the office, coordinate schedules to avoid overlap as much as possible. If not possible, then all should be wearing masks. Make sure that surfaces, including the phone, are regularly sanitized.
  • Communal kippot and tallitot will not be used if we gather for a 10-person lifecycle event (though people may bring their own personal items).
  • Communally used chairs should be a hard surface for proper disinfection (i.e. we will use blue stackable chairs rather than upholstered chairs).

 


PHASE TWO: Groups of up to 50 with distancing and facial masks – start date TBD by CBI Board

CDC / White House Minimum Criteria for Entering Phase Two: The region satisfies the original gating criteria a second time, at least fourteen days after beginning Phase One, and there is no evidence of a rebound.

Summary: All vulnerable individuals (e.g. elderly, immunocompromised, those with preexisting conditions) should continue to shelter in place. When in public, including public outdoor spaces, individuals should maximize physical distance and wear PPE. Social settings of more than 50 people should be avoided. Non-essential travel can resume.

Guidelines and Expectations for CBI Community Life during Phase Two:

  • During Phase Two, lifecycles can take place with careful attention to the following:
    • The total number of people must be under 50, including family, guests, and staff.
    • Social distancing must be observed. 
    • Guests from out of town — i.e. a different viral environment than northern Berkshire — may participate only virtually.
    • All present must wear masks.
    • We will carefully attend to the most current guidelines on singing/ chanting. Our guidance right now indicates that these are not safe.
    • There will be no oneg or kiddush.
  • During Phase Two, services may be streamed from the CBI sanctuary with up to 50 congregants present in person under the following conditions:
    • 20 people can socially distance in the small sanctuary; for larger groups, we will open the walls.
    • Everyone present must wear a mask.
    • Whenever possible, gatherings will be held outside or windows and doors will be propped open to increase air flow.
    • Chairs will be spaced such that those who live together may sit together, with at least 6 feet of distance between each household.
    • We recognize that in-person gatherings will still carry too much risk for many of our members in this phase, so we will continue streaming.
    • The best information we have as of this writing indicates that singing poses a particular risk by creating aerosols that carry the virus a significant distance and remain suspended in the air for a significant period of time. A cloth mask is unlikely to be enough to protect us. Therefore, we will not sing yet when a group is gathered.
    • There will be no food served, and no mingling after the service.
    • Both the parsha and the blessings will be read and not chanted. Distance should be maintained during aliyot.
    • Communal siddurim, kippot, yad, and tallitot will not be used (though people may bring their own personal items).
    • Communal chairs must be a hard surface for proper disinfection (i.e. we will use blue stackable chairs rather than upholstered chairs.)
  • During Phase Two Generally:
    • Small groups can meet in person or online, as long as distancing can be observed and PPE can be used. 
    • Regular office functions can resume while maintaining social distancing and wearing masks, or employees can continue to tele-work. Continue to sanitize the building. Pay particular attention to high-touch surfaces and handwashing.
    • Individual meetings with the rabbi could resume from appropriate social distance and wearing PPE, or could continue via Zoom.
    • Working groups / volunteers could meet in person while wearing masks and maintaining distancing, or continue meeting online.
    • Post signs indicating symptoms and urge people to stay home/seek medical attention if they have symptoms.
    • Maintain a good stock of tissue, soap, hand sanitizer and disposable paper towels for drying hands.
    • Clean the building regularly, paying extra attention to high-touch surfaces.
    • If we become aware of someone in the community or a building user infected with COVID-19, we will put our communication plan into action, and cooperate fully with contact tracers.
    • For higher risk individuals, e.g. people over 60 and those with underlying conditions, the risk during this phase is still significant. We recommend that these individuals, whether staff or congregant, continue to shelter in place.

PHASE THREE: Groups of More Than 50 start date TBD by CBI Board

CDC / White House Minimum Criteria for Entering Phase Three: States and Regions that show no evidence of a rebound and satisfy the gating criteria a third time may enter Phase Three.

Summary: All vulnerable individuals (e.g. elderly, immunocompromised, those with preexisting conditions) should continue to socially distance. Low-risk individuals should consider minimizing time spent in crowded environments.

Guidelines and Expectations for CBI Community Life during Phase Three:

During Phase Three we expect to return to more or less “normal” operations. Per Massachusetts guidelines, we presume that some distancing, vigilant monitoring, and robust hygiene practices will be a part of our “New Normal.”

We hold out hope that a vaccine will be identified speedily and soon, and that it will be made immediately available to all, so that we can return wholly to interacting without fear of causing harm to each other or to ourselves.

NOTE FOR ALL PHASES: Remember that progress through these phases may not be linear. We might move to a more relaxed phase, then see a resurgence of cases, and tighten restrictions again for a time. 

 


 

Recommended Reading

We are indebted to Rabbi Joshua Lesser and Congregation Beth Haverim, on whose congregational document this one is modeled. 

Primary Guidance

On Singing

Additional Resources

 

Here’s a video message for the CBI community from Rabbi Rachel. If you prefer to read it rather than viewing it, the text is enclosed below.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9AsoGsAcRq4]

 

(And if you can’t see the embedded video you can go directly to it: In the Wilderness.)

Hello friends.

As Shabbat approaches, we’re finishing week eight of shelter-in-place and social distancing.

Many of you have described to me a sense of being unmoored in time. Normal life stopped in March. Kids don’t go to school anymore. One day blurs into the next. Has it been two weeks since this started, or two years? It feels like both.

I keep thinking about the Torah story we’re reading right now — about our spiritual ancestors wandering in the wilderness. They might have thought when they left Egypt that their journey would be quick. It wasn’t.

Even in my worst moments I know this pandemic won’t last 40 years! But it might feel that way sometimes. And a journey always seems longer when we don’t know how long it will take.

This year I empathize with our ancestors in a way I never did before. Everything about this is hard. Maybe especially wondering whether these hardships are worth it, and not knowing how long this will last.

In our Torah story, our ancestors displayed almost every emotion there is. Sometimes they railed against God and against their leaders. Sometimes they were accepting. Sometimes they were grateful for manna. Sometimes they complained because they didn’t have meat. We too may be emotionally all over the map. That’s normal.

And I’ll bet our ancestors felt unmoored in time, just like we do. The only marker of time they had was the double portion of manna that fell on Friday, enough to sustain them on Shabbat.

Here’s how I’m trying to tether myself in time. I try to bookend each day with a moment of mindfulness — to wake with modah ani, the morning prayer for gratitude, and go to sleep with the bedtime shema. Counting the Omer helps, when I remember to do it.

Baking challah on Fridays helps. Friday morning meditation, now in the CBI zoom room instead of the CBI sanctuary, helps. Shabbat services, ditto. I try to take Shabbat as a day away from the news — to give my soul time to heal, and to make Shabbat different from other days.

I try to notice as spring green return to the trees, as the moon waxes and wanes. These remind me that the cycles of the natural world continue.

And I’m trying to stop speculating about how long the journey will be. We can’t know. But like our ancestors, we’re not alone. Even if we can’t be together “in person,” we can be together on Zoom or Facetime or over the phone. We can be together in spirit.

Tonight as the sun goes down, I’ll kindle two little lights. As sundown sweeps across the globe, I imagine a wave of tiny lights appearing in response. In my home and your home. All around the world. Whether or not we have candles, we can kindle that light in hearts.

May that light shine brightly and bring us comfort for the journey ahead — however long the journey may be. Shabbat shalom.