Rabbi Tracee Rosen
Congregation Kol Ami, Salt Lake City, Utah
Erev Rosh Hashanah 5767
(c) Copyright 2006, Rabbi Tracee Rosen. All rights reserved.
I remember like it was yesterday. Five years ago, I woke up early in the morning like any other day and turned on the morning news. There were live pictures of a fire blazing out of the side of one of the World Trade Center towers. As I, with the rest of the world was just beginning to wrap my mind around the idea of an airplane accidentally hitting the tower, I watched in real-time as the second plane struck. Immediately, I woke Keren and said, “This is big, you better get up. Our world has just changed.” As we sat glued to the television the next few hours, more pieces emerged. The pentagon was hit, Flight 93 went down in the fields of Pennsylvania, inbound flights from Europe were diverted to Canada, and air traffic in the US came to a complete halt.
Then there are images of the aftermath that remain eternally sealed in my mind:
In the aftermath of 9-11, Americans put their collective best foot forward. By November 2001, Americans had donated nearly $760 million in charity to victims of terror attacks, so much blood was donated that the majority had to be converted to plasma when the expiration dates approached. We all asked ourselves, “What can we do to help.”
And yet, the American attention span seems remarkably short-lived. Within weeks and months, air-travel resumed, we went back to the isolation of our cars, people returned to their daily jobs, and life went on. Five years later, we may spend longer getting through a more complicated security process at the airport, we may debate the efficacy of a war effort that doesn’t seem to have improved our security, but by and large, our lives have reverted back to old habits, and that sense of community, that we are all in this together, seems to be just a memory of a tragic nostalgic time.
Today, it seems, we are a cocooning society. Perhaps as a result of the fear we feel in the outside world, we have hunkered down, spending most of our free time at home or alone. And who can blame us? At home we now have state of the art home theater systems with large plasma screen TVs, Dolby 5.1 surround sound stereo, hi-definition digital cable on-demand, and Tivo to ensure that we never miss another program, ever. On our computers, we have DSL or broadband cable, to watch streaming videos on YouTube.com, to play massive multiplayer role playing games like EverQuest with thousands of other people on-line, or to upload our latest photo albums or videos to our virtual identities on MySpace.com. Even when we venture out into the world, we don’t really need to interact with it: We take our iPods to play the soundtrack of our lives to ourselves, we talk to others on our RAZRs, email via our Blackberrys or Treos, and take our laptops to the local Starbucks, where we connect to the internet via wifi, and IM or text message our friends all over the world, but never notice the live human being at the table next to us.
As an aside, if you didn’t understand one word of the last paragraph, then you’re probably over sixty and part of the “greatest generation,” and you already get what I’m about to say.
But, for the rest of us, we are now the generation that without doubt is the most continuously connected to the virtual world, and yet the most disconnected from each other in the reality-based world. Harvard professor of public policy, Robert Putnam, describes this phenomenon in his book, Bowling Alone: The collapse and revival of American community. He describes how American involvement in civic institutions has steadily waned in the last 30 –40 years. We vote less, we are less likely to attend public meetings, or get involved in social institutions. We don’t even do social activities as much any more: we don’t go on picnics, or have dinner parties, or play mah jongg or bridge. The title of the book comes from the phenomenon he discovered from 1980 to 1993 the number of Americans who went bowling rose by 10%, while the number who were members of bowling leagues dropped by 40% (sorry Irwin).
As a follow-up to the book, Putnam created a group called the Saguaro Seminar comprised of members from the arts, clergy, business and political leaders from both parties to address ways of rebuilding social capital. They define social capital as the value which comes from all social networks (that is, who we know), and the inclinations that arise from these networks to do things for each other. Putnam, and his co-author, Lewis Feldstein have written in their newer book, Better Together:
A growing body of research shows that social capital enables many important individual and social goods. Communities with higher levels of social capital are likely to have higher educational achievement, better performing governmental institutions, faster economic growth, and less crime and violence. And the people living in these communities are likely to be happier, healthier, and to have a longer life expectancy. In places with greater social connectedness, it is easier to mobilize people to tackle problems of public concern, and easier to arrange things that benefit the group as a whole.
And from our own personal experience we know that social capital makes navigating life a whole lot easier: Our friends and family members cheer us up when we’re down, bring us chicken soup when we’re sick, offer job leads when we’re unemployed, baby sit our kids when we’re away, join us at the movies when we’re bored, give us loans when we’re broke, and remember our birthdays even when we forget them.
- Robert Putnam & Lewis Feldstein Better Together: Restoring the American Community, 2003
Religious institutions are prime sources of social capital. Many of you who will be here over the next 10 days, often come to me during the course of the year and say, “Rabbi, I’m sorry you never see me in synagogue, but I’m just not the religious type, I don’t do services.” And that’s okay. I’m always glad to see you whenever and wherever, but today, I want to challenge your idea that the synagogue is just a place to attend services. It’s also a great place to DO service.
The real value of Kol Ami comes from sense of community we create when we meet each other, get to know and care about each other, and respond to each other’s needs in a caring, compassionate, human way. Just ask Lorraine and Howard Kadish. Last month, their oldest son, Ian, had an emergency appendectomy. I called her when I found out, courtesy of another congregant, and she was truly delighted with the care shown by all their Kol Ami friends. “Howard and I thought this place was special when we moved here,” she said. “But now I know it for sure.”
There are many in our community that I consider to be mitzvah heroes, people who intuitively “get” this idea of social capital. I want to tell you about just a few, and beforehand, I ask your forgiveness, because there are so many in our community who truly give of themselves in priceless ways, and if I would even try to mention you all, we’ll be here till Kol Nidre. And to those whom I do mention, I know you don’t do what you do for external recognition, but your examples are important lessons to the rest of us.
This morning we buried a remarkable man, Ralph Tannenbaum. A shining example of what Tom Brokaw described as the “greatest generation,” Ralph was a highly decorated WWII veteran. One of the core of Jewish merchants located downtown on Main St., Ralph viewed involvement in communal activities as part of his obligation to give back to the community. He served as president of almost every Jewish organization in town, and other civic organizations as well. After he retired from running his Army Navy surplus store which he cofounded with his father and brother, Ira, he volunteered as full-time synagogue administrator for eight years. In recognition of his service and generosity to Kol Ami, we are proud to be dedicating the main office of the synagogue in his memory. May his memory be a blessing and inspire each of us to do just a little bit more.
Lois and Burt Spiegel are exemplary Kol Ami members. Lois directed the Blood Drive here for many years, becoming one of ARUP's most consistent high donation events. They have both been active in helping our grieving congregants by visiting and bringing them meals. They are always on the lookout for new faces in the crowd, and are often the first to introduce themselves, and invite newcomers to shul events. They have been instrumental in visiting many of our homebound congregants. Both of them have huge hearts.
Betty Yanowitz is incredible, too. She visits countless members of Kol Ami, particularly the elderly. She has delivered scores of holiday baskets to our homebound congregants. This year she organized flower deliveries to older homebound congregants for special milestones, like 90th and 100th birthdays. She has become our own society page reporter, introducing us to new and long-time members via her articles in our synagogue bulletin. I can honestly say her column is more popular than mine. She is currently working on creating a friendly visitor committee to encourage congregants to visit some wonderful people who can no longer leave their homes.
Paul and Jackie Daniels are our congregation’s “can do” family. Whether it’s coercing one or more of their 4 sons to help make the minyan at weekday services, bringing hammer and drill to build our sukkah, volunteering for the mitzvah network, assembling and delivering holiday baskets, or just being available for whatever needs to be done, you can always count on them.
One of the most impressive examples of a social capital building project that Kol Ami undertook this year was led by our own rebbitzin, Keren Goldberg. Our Mishloach Manot, Purim gift bag project, was conceived not only as a fundraiser (which it was), but as an opportunity for different groups of congregants to get together and do something nice for all our members. Over the course of two months, more than 150 people in our congregation participated in the baking of over 2000 hamantaschen, the assembly of 450 bags, and informing people of the opportunity to send greetings to any or all our members. They staffed pick up tables, and hand delivered bags, even mailing bags to our out-of-town snowbirds. The volunteers ranged from seniors in their 80s and 90s to 3 and 4 year-old children. Everybody felt great about this project. And as an example of social capital at work, relationships formed on the committee led to Keren being offered a position as an occupational therapist in a local school district.
Lest you think you need to be a professional volunteer, I also want to share with you one of the more remarkable projects undertaken by one of our b’nai mitzvah students. Adam Joseph and his family contacted the International Rescue Committee with the idea of connecting with a few of the refugee youth who have resettled in this city. They were assigned to three Somali teenagers. Since that time, the Josephs continue to help these three with basic skills like taking public transportation, cooking American food, opening bank accounts, doing homework, learning how to drive, and searching for work. They are engaged in the kind of activity that Putnam refers to as “bridging” social capital, that is forming bonds across diverse groups, when they talk about what’s harder, fasting every day in the month of Ramadan or one big fast for 26 hours at Yom Kippur.
This past year, we have begun to create the infrastructure that we hope will lead to more opportunities to build social capital. Julie Jacobsen has begun helping neighborhood chavurot get started, based on the idea that we are pretty geographically spread out, and it would be nice to sometimes get together within our own locales. Our neighbors understand the importance of creating neighborhood communities via their Ward Houses, why shouldn’t we learn from them? Tomorrow afternoon, a number of families from the 84117 and 84124 zip codes will be gathering for a pot luck lunch as a kick off event for that chavurah. I hope to see increasing activity this year from this important source of connection.
This year also saw the founding of the Kol Amigos Mens Club dedicated to the idea that guys just want to have fun, and do some good for the shul as well. We hope this next year to see a revival of our Sisterhood as an active engaged part of our community.
Our incoming president, Danny Burman is in the process of forming a Social committee, so that periodically, we are able to host events where we just get together and have fun, such as the fabulous Purim Ball so ably planned by Vivian Dowsett last year.
Our new Friday night committee is dedicated to offering speakers and special programs on Friday nights at a variety of times, to attract more attendance from a wider variety of people, and we’re even looking forward to starting a Friday night dinner club, where once a month those who are interested will meet together for dinner before coming to services as a group.
Over the summer, we subscribed to a special web-based software program that enables us to keep track of members who are in need of special services and/or visits by our clergy and community. Because federal regulations restrict our ability to find out who’s sick or hospitalized, we have to rely on you to let us know when someone needs extra care. We’re not as good as we would like to be in this area, but we are committed to improving.
We are doing some really exciting things, but we also face significant challenges. Last year, 2 young members of the community eagerly volunteered to chair our mitzvah network. Sadly they are resigning their positions after the holidays, partly because of increases in their career responsibilities, but also because they have had such a hard time recruiting people to volunteer on mitzvah projects. This is not okay.
Tonight, in the main entryway, there is a pledge card with your name on it. We’re not asking for money, we’re asking for your time. Please take a few of the little round stickers on the table, and place them on the appropriate mitzvah opportunities, then place the cards in the box. Please take your own card only, and don’t volunteer someone else.
Whether you come regularly to services or not, I am asking you to pledge. If we are to build social capital, if we are to really be the kind of community we can best be, then we all have to pitch in. I know you’re busy, and I know spending time with family is important, but I want you to commit to 10 hours per year, under an hour per month. You waste more than that at Starbucks or waiting in line at the grocery store. Bring your whole family along. There’s not a better example you can set in the world than having your kids seeing you giving to the community, caring for others in need. And, by the way, it can be a lot of fun.
One of the signature prayers of Rosh Hashanah, Unetaneh Tokef, teaches us much about the fragility of life. Mi yarum umi yishafel, who will be raised up and who will be brought down low. We never know from year to year, whether we will be the ones in need of help, in need of support and community, or if we will be blessed with the ability to help others. But we do know that as a community, we MUST be here for each other.
At this time, five years since we came together as a community in fear, let us re-embrace each other as a community in love.
Ken yehi ratzon, So may it be Your Will. Amen.