Attached to the filing cabinet in my office there is a quarter of a piece of posterboard. On it are the following words: “I want to connect people with God.” I wrote them as my rabbinic mission statement fifteen years ago. I was at a retreat for emerging Jewish and Muslim spiritual leaders, and I was very pregnant, which is how I know exactly when this happened. We were asked to write down one phrase that captured why we were going into this work, and that was mine. 

When I was ordained a rabbi almost fourteen years ago, I received a blessing from Rabbi Jeff Goldwasser for stepping into a lineage of teachers. It begins with Moses on Sinai giving the Torah to Joshua, who gave it to the elders, who gave it to the prophets, who gave it to the men of the great assembly. I received another blessing that day offering a parallel lineage that began with Miriam, sister of Moses – a lineage that was lost in history and then recovered again.

I was charged with teaching and preaching and accompanying those whom I serve in a way that brings healing and uplifts wholeness. And a few months later I signed a brit, a sacred covenant, with the first of many lay leaders whom I’ve had the privilege of serving alongside. We’ve updated the brit a bit, but it’s still fundamentally the same: I’m here to serve and to lead, to teach and to uplift, to accompany you as a community and as individuals in whatever life brings.

Looking back on thirteen years of service, what I remember most are intimate moments of connection. An unveiling with only a handful of mourners present. A baby naming around someone’s kitchen table. A pastoral visit with someone who was preparing to let go of this life. The big moments matter too, like Kol Nidre this year with the sanctuary packed full, or for that matter Kol Nidre during the first Covid year when we were all sheltering in place at home…

But in the kaleidoscope of images that arise for me, many are from one-on-one or small group settings. My brit is with CBI as a whole community, and yet I most often experience it as a hundred individual little covenants: with you, and you, and you… 

I still want to connect y’all with God. Though these days I always put an asterisk after “the G-word,” as a reminder that if that word doesn’t work for you, you can substitute words that do. Maybe you want to connect with meaning, with justice, with hope. Maybe you want to connect with our traditions, with the generations that came before us and the ones that will come after. Maybe you want to connect with something that endures even when the world feels bleak.

Maybe you want to connect with Torah. With the Five Books, lovingly handwritten in these beautiful two hundred year old scrolls that need our repair. With commentaries on them, and commentaries on the commentaries. With Jewish legal writings, or ethical writings, or poetry, or music – all of those are also Torah, which means all of those point “in” or “up” or “back” to the Source of All creativity, the source of love and justice in this world we’ve been blessed to inherit.

Maybe you want to ask big questions, like, “Why?” and also “How?” Maybe you want to know how to make meaning when life feels full of grief, or how to stay grounded when life feels full of joy. Maybe you want to find meaning in the passage of time, the holiness of the seasons, our changing planet, the waxing and waning moon, the stages of a human life. Maybe you want to know how the world could have changed so much, or why it hasn’t changed nearly enough. 

To be clear, I don’t personally have the answers to all of these questions. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have the answers to any of them. But I know deep in my bones that Jewish tradition does. And I know that I have the best job in the world, because I get to help you find your answers. And because we’re all growing and changing all the time, sometimes the answers that speak to us need to change as we do… which means the work I get to do is literally never done.

The work of spiritual life is never done. The work of becoming is never done. As long as we’re here, we’re growing and changing – or we can be. My covenant with each of you is a promise to accompany you in whatever life brings your way. 

The verses I chanted this morning also speak of a brit, a covenant between Avraham and Avimelekh. There’s an exchange of some female sheep, which is slightly funny because my given name means ewe. Avimelekh agrees that a nearby well was in fact dug by Avraham – which of course our mystics understand both as a physical well that delivered much-needed water, and as a spiritual wellspring for Torah’s neverending flow of wisdom and insight.

And then Avraham plants an eshel, a tamarisk tree. What’s interesting to me is, our sages don’t exactly agree on what the tree represents. The well is clearly both water and Torah, but the tree might represent new beginnings, or maybe deep roots. Tamarisks can grow almost anywhere, making them akin to the Jewish people. Rashi says maybe the eshel was an orchard, or an inn. Both are symbols of hospitality, which is a quality our mystics often attribute to Avraham. 

I love the idea of planting a tree to mark a covenant. To the Board, please don’t worry, I am not planting another tree on our grounds. I saw how much work went into watering our tiny orchard of baby fruit trees! I’m thinking about a metaphorical tree. A tree is a lot like a community, it turns out. Both need deep roots in order to flourish. Both need an outer growing edge that’s open to new ideas and change, and deep inner rings that record and remember. And both offer shelter. 

My blessing for us, at this celebration of thirteen years of service, is this: like Avraham’s tamarisk, may we be shelter for each other when shelter is needed.  May we sink our roots deep into the aquifer of tradition so that our hearts and souls are nourished. And may we bear the many fruits of sacred community, including spiritual authenticity, readiness to take care of each other when times are tough, and readiness to celebrate together and lift each other up.

This is the d’varling that Rabbi Rachel offered at Shabbat morning services as we celebrated her first 13 years of service (cross-posted to Velveteen Rabbi).