From the Rabbi

Writings from Rabbi Nancy Wechsler  -  5785

(Click here for archived posts)

I am quite sure there was no time when it was a secret that I was Jewish. I  felt Jewish mostly at Temple and at Sunday school. During the week, I passed fairly well as an American kid at public school.

In elementary school, I learned the craft of turning readers digest magazines into a Christmas tree. You glue two of them together and then in a few days, spray paint it green and the very next day, add drops of color. I celebrated Christmas at my friend Kristi’s house and I think her grandpa and their Santa may have been the same.  I was quite sure my Papa Morris from Russia or my Papa Alex from Rumania would never consider the honor, and frankly I was good with that.

I was a brownie, a girl scout, swam on the swim team and enjoyed Jr. Cotillion,  which is a fancy pre-teen program where boys and girls dressed up and learn to ballroom dance.

However, when it came to being a Debutant, stage 2 after Jr. Cotillion, there was not a chance. Debutants in my day were not Jewish. I was a Jewish girl, curly hair and Eastern European features. 

There were some months during my early teen age years, when I’d go to sleep with teen magazines on my face and my curls wrapped tightly around empty orange juice cans to straighten it,  hoping that when I woke up, I’d look more like the models. I am sure many of you have a similar story.

While those childhood members of trying to be someone other than myself, evoke some sadness, the majority of childhood and teen memories were happy.

While those childhood members of trying to be other than myself evoke some sadness, the majority of childhood and teen memories were happy.

Growing up, one of the things I feel particularly blessed by, was my exposure to the joy of Jewish life. This came from my family’s commitment to attending Shabbat at Temple every Friday, running around at the Oneg, and celebrating Jewish holidays at home. It was my good fortune to attend Camp Swig in the Santa Cruz mountains.  Judaism was synonymous with creativity and singing. Judaism was synonymous with meaning, social justice and spirit. 

Judaism was synonymous with full acceptance and my deepest friendships. Like the Jewish kids at our Jewish Camp Newman today, we would  have happily shouted at the tops of our voices, “I love being Jewish.”

While I was well aware of the scars of our people, the ashes of our people, the nightmares of our people, I was so fortunate that my foundational identity was not defined by being a victim.  We learned about Masada, the Crusades, the pogroms. We met survivors from the Holocaust.  We read Hannah Senesh and Anne Frank.  Avital Sharansky, the wife of Natan Sharansky once visited my summer camp and told us about her husband being kept in a Soviet prison. We felt very sad and at the same time, there was something that made all of us feel so unified with her. The solidarity shifted the sorrow to determined pride.

My instructor Tal Becker echoed this gift in Jerusalem this summer. Tal Becker is an Australian-Israeli lawyer, and diplomatic advisor. He has been a legal advisor for the Israel Defense Forces. He said, “Never count out the Jewish people.”

What did Tal Becker mean by “Never county out the Jewish people? “ I think he meant that we refuse to drown in the pool of victimization. While we have experienced violent hatred, our Judaism is not defined by “what they did to us.”  We are so much more than that.

It is  often with humor and innovation that we transform anguish. Some title key Jewish  holidays, “They tried to kill us. They didn’t. So let’s eat.”

Take Purim for example, when the evil Haman plots to annihilate us. Jewish innovation borrows the shape of Haman’s triangular hat, creates a pastry out of it. We fill it with sweet fillings and eat them. Instead of wearing somber clothing we dress in costumes, have a schnaps or two and create a Purim Shpiel.

For Passover, Jewish innovation took that powerlessness of enslavement and turned it into a culinary history and values lesson.

For Chanukah, when a most disastrous event occurred, the destruction of the First Temple in Jerusalem and there was not even oil to light the Eternal Light, we transformed it into a festival of light and miracles, of eating “oil based” food,  think latkes and sufganiyot, jelly filled donuts. 

Not all transformation is the same.  Sometimes transformation takes the form of meeting anti Semites face to face and finding ways to relate as people.

I remember attending a wedding and someone who wasn’t Jewish and probably had a little too much champagne, asked in full voice prefaced by a drawn out “Raaa-bbi,” if it was true that Jewish people used the foreskin from circumcision to make chewing gum. 

I refused to be bullied. While revolted, I stayed present, calmly explained that was not true and moved us into a different conversation where we got to know one another better.

Let me share with you another transformation from hate to friendship that happened right here at 4746 El Camino.

One morning this past year, a father and son pressed the outdoor bell. The son had been caught at school beating up on a Jewish boy with anti Semitic profanity.  He was  permanently expelled from High School. The father brought him to a synagogue. He chose CBS.

The rabbi happened to be me. Our administrator Jenny Jeffrey met them first, lucky people.  I followed up and the first meeting was set.

I wasn’t sure how the meeting would go; however, I had a sense this was an opportunity for transformation. I ordered two books that we would read together one for him and one for me, Called Rising out of hatred about a young man Derek Black who had grown up in the epicenter of white nationalism, his father founded Stormfront, the latest racist community on the internet and his godfather David Duke was a KKK grand wizard.

In this true story, Derek meets an Orthodox Jew at college who; despite knowing about the prejudice invited him to weekly Shabbat dinners. Because of the relationship formed at the table, Derek’s world view changed and he faced the damage of his past.

There were fourteen chapters in this book, I suggested we meet until we finished the book.

We both liked art so the three of us, the Dad, his son and I,  would spend time each week doing collaborative art. We’d sketch a quick design and send it to the next person to complete the drawing as they wanted.

We watched YouTube videos about people who changed racism, xenophobia by meeting people face to face.  I learned about his favorite ice cream.

They attended Shabbat services a few times, and one of our family Shabbat dinners.  We didn’t finish the book; however, baseless hatred shifted.

This year, no one needs to tell us that it has been painful being an American Jew.  No one needs to remind us that anti Semitism has risen. Especially since October 7.

What is in our tool box to transform anti Semitism? 

Tool One: Meet people face to face

Jewish Federation of Sacramento sponsors a program called Student to Student. It prepares Jewish teens to go, in small groups, to different high schools to give presentations about being an American Jewish teen. I was invited to a presentation practice to work on difficult questions they might receive.

Questions such as Why don’t Jews believe in Jesus as the son of God? What is happening between Israelis and the Palestinians?

Student to Student brings Jewish and non-Jewish teens together, to normalize preconceptions. Our students are ambassadors about the joy and vitality, the particularity of our religion. I want to give a shout out to our CBS teen, Elliot Gardner, one of the Student-to-Student participants.

Tool Two: Interfaith Social Justice work.

Our Social Action committee brings in speakers about issues of concern in our public sphere. They not only inform us and get us involved, but they also let those outside CBS know that we are tracking what is happening to them and that their lives matter to us.  

Years back, one of our CBS proudest moments took place right here. The Sanctuary was filled by our members and members of churches, along with news stations filming.

It was called an “action” where we demanded that the State extend the “aging out” age for Foster Youth benefits such as education and health care, from 18 to 25 so that they would have a better chance starting their lives.  The proposition passed.

I think about the LGBTQ talks we have heard in this Sanctuary, learning about safe space and how to create a welcoming environment.  Both our members and our guests smile when they see the framed rainbow flag outside our sanctuary.

Tool Three: Welcome Everyone

Each time, we invite our non-Jewish friends and family to our community, we are representatives for Judaism. The Jewish Food Faire, our 47^th, brought many non-Jews to our campus, and our friendliness and delicious food-built bridges. I am thinking about our events such as Midtown Bingo and the Old Sac Comedy Club.  When our non-Jewish friends are invited in, relationships are made  stronger.

We build artistic bridges when we host the Neighborhood Classical Music concerts, packed with Jewish and non-Jewish classical music lovers.  We have a beautiful concert this month, Sunday October 20^th at 4:00 p.m. till 5:00 p.m. with Jennifer Reason, a dear friend, a former CBS Choir director and Cap radio classical music host. Please prioritize and bring friends. Flyers are in the foyer.

Tool Four: We are not the only ones who get picked on.

Many minority groups are targeted. New immigrants. People with a variety of skin pigmentation. Non binary people. The good news about America as a Melting Pot country is that we have the potential to make good soup. But sometimes there is a bad soup, and yet, we don’t quit the kitchen.

Friends, when we try to pass as though our Judaism doesn’t matter, we fade. Even in periods of displacement, and turbulence the energy of our people was to keep learning, growing and innovating. We did not disappear.

The Mishnah and Talmud, great masterpieces of how to live a Jewish life when there was no central place of worship, was created after the Romans had destroyed the Temple in Jerusalem. It is as though we never got the memo to give up. 

Judaism is joy driven, spiritually driven, justice driven, intellectually driven, culturally driven. 

When non-Jewish guests attend one of our B’nai Mitzvah services and observe 13-year-olds chanting Torah, giving their own interpretation of the passage and leading the prayers, they are amazed. How could we train young teens to do this, in front of everyone?

It is what we do. Our identity is based on the best version of ourselves.

Of course, we must call out any normalizing of anti Semitism. Demand that anti Semitism is anti American. We must be vigilant.  While it’s not always easy being Jewish, it is a blessing.

Whether we are Jewish or not Jewish, all of us in this Sanctuary are ambassadors for Judaism.  May we be bold  in countering hate. May we stand with those who are walking through hardship because we know it well. Above all, let love, joy, honor, on-going learning, innovation, and justice shine through the lens of our faith.    Amen

“Dearest Nancy” my mom wrote on a small piece of paper, years ago when she was able to think and to write. The note was tucked into a ten-pound mortar and pestle set brought ouf of Russia by my great grandfather Jacob Lipp.  The note continues, “It was always a puzzle to me and to Jerry, (my uncle and Jenny Jeffrey’s father) that one would carry such a heavy object so far. It does hold pens and pencils nicely. Enjoy and I love you. Mom”

Recently I read  in the book by Joshua Leifer called Tablets Shattered: The end of an American Jewish century and the future of Jewish life, that carrying of these heavy items along with Shabbat candle sticks was very common among new immigrants from Russia and Poland at the turn of the 19th century. Some suggest it was to smash poppy seeds to make hamentashen filling, others say it was to puree food for babies.

The one thing I do know is that when looking at it, lifting its weight, harder for one hand, easier with two, I feel a closeness with generations back. 

My great grandfather probably had no idea I was going to exist, he and his family were trying to survive the Cosacks and hopeful immigration to America.  However when I look at this cumbersome treasure, it makes me think about what draws me tenderly to Judaism and generations that came before.

What did this 10 pound brass item mean to my great grandfather in 1903? Why would he have shlepped it What might it mean one day, to my, God willing great grandchildren?

When I sit at my writing desk at home, I face, some 20 feet away, a wall covered with framed pictures of my family and loved ones. To one who doesn’t know the meaning, the one in the middle looks silly at best, though to me, it is anything but silly.
The photo is of my then 24 year old son Max, on the fourth night of Chanukah. We were on a zoom call. In the photo he is smiling sweetly with a large unbaked potato on a plate and five matches coming out of it. 

He was living in Europe, experiencing a year of travel and had arrived at his Airbnb in Madrid without a Chanukiah to light. I suggested he get a potato and find some matches and make one, which dear child, he did.

That night we lit our Chanukah candles together, morning for me, evening for him, me with my pink Cadillac Chanukiah from Memphis and he with his potato and matches.  

Just a silly picture? Hardly. It represents Jewish innovation, Jewish joy, Jewish dedication during an untethered moment in time.
I will say for now, that we have felt extremely untethered and ill prepared for the agony and on going conflict in Israel since October 7th 2023. As American Jews in the public spheres, our emotions have spanned shock, rage and sorrow. Some wear our stars of David and Chamsah necklaces. Some wear our “free the hostages” necklaces.  Some don’t.  
And there is the heart wrenching sorrow that comes with the destruction of thousands of innocent Palestinians lives.   There is also shame, in Hebrew, Busha, about the horrific acts of some of our Jewish family, who I wish to absolutely disown. They are right wing settlers with an ideology that all of the land including the West Bank, belongs to Jewish sovereignty. 

If Israel holds a center stage in our Jewish identity, and we are torn up by the horror and bloodshed and our hostages,  and we struggle with decisions made by Nitanyahu, how do we hold it all?  What fuels our Judaism in a positive way?
If Israel is not center to our Judaism, however we cannot help but be affected by the last 12 months, what is fueling our Judaism in a positive way?

I want to share with you the ways and practices that keep my Jewish self strong. These things feel clean, untarnished by politics and I pursue them without apology. They are manageable and while they may not calm the storm, they are keeping me afloat. 
One thing is Hebrew. Since I returned this summer from Israel I hve committed to a program I do on my phone called Dualingo. Every day I spend some 15 to 20 minutes doing the Dualingo Hebrew practice.  There is a little bird that flaps her wings in joy when I tap to continue the lesson, as well as the green light that confirms the correct answer. At the end, the little bird asks if I would like to fix my mistakes. I know others in this Sanctuary who have committed to Dualingo and other Hebrew courses.

Hebrew is our spiritual mother tongue, even before Russian, German and Spanish. While transliteration is an excellent place to begin, there is nothing quite as delicious as reading the letters, figuring out the root of a word, and inviting the meanings into the soul.  This year we have a beginning Prayer Book Hebrew class taught by Miri Levine starting next month on Sundays at 12:30 p.m. One letter at a time, one vowel at a time, one word at a time.
A second practice that draws me close to Judaism is learning. We have a song we sing from the liturgy referring to Torah. It says, “Sweet as honey. Sweet as honey. Sweet as honey on my tongue.” For the past decade I’ve been learning at the Hartman institute in Jerusalem which has inspired me to take on line courses and whetted my appetite for Jewish wisdom.  Identifying with Judaism through learning feels clean, untarnished by politics. I encourage you, to make Jewish learning part of this New Year. Read a Jewish book and then another. Take a class through CBS, take a Jewish learning class on line, make a spotify list of Jewish music, listen to Jewish podcasts, come to Torah study on Shabbat morning, attend Jewish films and programs. 

A third practice that draws me so close to Judaism is being in community with you.
I am so happy to be with you, find peace and talk Torah. I am confident that the Shabbat Bride cannot wait to step inside this Sanctuary, dancing up the aisle to her favorite song, L’cha Dodi.  

I am fed spiritually when entering the CBS kitchen and see Chef Matt guiding us in being sous chefs, or any number of our fantastic bakers teaching us in the ways of old country Jewish baked goods. It’s soul food, from generation to generation.
I love teaching B’nai Mitzvah students how to chant Torah, week after week, month after month. Having our students lead prayers and songs at services makes everything worthwhile.  As for music, I find myself falling in love over and over again through Jewish music, with our CBS choir, or CBS Band. The melodies call me home.

I am reminded of a story from post World War II Poland. 

A rabbi came to a Catholic orphanage saying he wanted to see if there were any Jewish children living here, that he wanted to take them out and find homes where they could be raised as Jewish children. The Mother Superior was adamant that there wer no Jewish children in the orphanage. 

The rabbi insisted saying, “Just once, let me walk through their sleeping quarters just after they have turned in for sleep. I will be able to to know if Jewish children are there.”

Agreeing, the Mother Superior walked with the rabbi as he had requested. Opening the door to their dormitory, the rabbi began to chant, “Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonai, Eloheinu, Adonai.” Then he paused. Quietly from different corners of the large room came small voices, “Echad.” Completing the holy verse from Torah.

‘There is one Jewish child” said the rabbi, and as the “Echads” were heard, he said, “And another and another.” The call of Jewish melody brought them home.

Do any of these things that call us home to our Jewish heart change world politics? 

Probably not, however like, the mortar and pestle unit, all 10 pounds of it, wrapped in a duffle from Minsk to Omaha, Nebraska, to Sacramento, California, it carries a message of eternity, pride and foresight.

With this New Year, we think about those things that draw us close, draw us back, circle us home to our Jewish selves. I often say that had I not been born a Jew, I would choose it again and again. I identify deeply with those who have chosen to become Jewish through conversion. Their chanting of Sh’ma is part of the Sh’ma I say before going to sleep. Every day I choose to be Jewish.

What about those seemingly small things, like your version of an unbaked potato with 5 lit matches. What are  your personal, innovative, communal Jewish practices? Think of Judaism as your precious friend who reminds you of your inner beauty and strength. It is time to return.

Shana Tova.