Sukkot, the joyous relief after the heavy mood of the high holidays, focuses on the role of shelter, harvest and gratitude in our lives. Living in a large urban area with 2.5 million housing units, it is easy to take this blessing of shelter for granted. The miracle of shelter, one of the earliest human inventions, ensures humanity's continued existence despite our inherent fragility in the face of the elements. The first marked increase in human population is traced to the decline in infant mortality that followed the invention of sturdy housing capable of protecting babies from sun, cold, storms, and hungry beasts. Yet, most of us have never been homeless and so our appreciation of the true blessing of shelter is limited by our ability to imagine life without it. Jewish tradition gives us a tool --the sukkah-- to help our imagination. On Sukkot, especially on the inevitable rainy or chilly evenings when eating outside in the sukkah holds absolutely no charm, gratitude for the miracle of shelter comes naturally.
As one small community in a large metropolitan area with sixty-four other Jewish congregations, it is also easy to take the blessing of shelter for our community for granted. Synagogue and church buildings are scattered throughout the area in such great number that after a little more than a year at Persimmon Tree Lane, it seems inevitable and natural that we, too, have a permanent home. But creating our permanent home was an important process that not only generated the building's design but also helped develop the character of our community.
This year, we will gather on Erev Sukkot to celebrate the importance of shelter to the Adat Shalom community. This celebration isn't just for the "vatikim" (old timers) who remember our nomadic existence; it is a chance for all of us to focus on the ways in which this building has enabled our community to thrive. Not only has our programming has expanded tremendously; ninety new households have joined in the last eighteen months. I hope that many of these new members will make a special effort to take part in the celebration.
In 1990, during our community's infancy, an early Long-Range Planning Committee first conducted a survey of our membership. Over 50% of our members answered "yes" to the survey question "Should Adat Shalom have its own building?" From this early beginning, the quest for a home involved the entire community. Together, the membership decided where to purchase the land, what style of architecture to use, which facilities took priority and which style of seats to purchase for the sanctuary. That the end result of such a community process is both lovely and functional is surely a Reconstructionist miracle.
Raising the money for our building was also a community effort. The traditional fundraising model dictates that the top gift supplies at least 10 per cent of the money and 90 percent of the money from 15 percent of the donors. From the onset, we knew that this model wouldn't work for our membership. Instead, we built this building with extraordinarily broad-based support. Many of the people involved in Phase I and/or Phase II of the Capital Campaign gave Adat Shalom the largest gifts they had ever given to any charitable organization. I know that I speak for many donors when I say that we gave so generously because it was a privilege to take part in building a home for the community that had given us so much.
Many of us dedicated our donations to memorialize loved ones we cherish or to honor people who have enriched our lives. These dedications will be made tangible on Sept 20 as we unveil the plaques commemorating those gifts. Located in the front lobby, these plaques will be accompanied by a book containing material about the people to whom the donations have been dedicated. Through this book, the stories of the people to whom our members chose to make their dedications will enrich our community for years to come.
This is the miracle we celebrate this Sukkot -- that our community has been able to turn its dream of a home into an actual structure. Like the homes that have enabled humans to thrive as a species, our home is a shelter which enables us to thrive as a community as never before. And like our own houses, what makes this building a real home is the people whose legacy we remember with love.
Shanah tovah u'mekutah (Wishing you a good and sweet New Year!)
Judy Gelman