April 13, 2018 | 28 Nisan 5778
Embraced by Sanctuary
by Judy Aronson

Recently I discovered the Shavuot 1983 speech that my sister, Sylvia Topper, delivered at the dedication of Temple Shalom, her Winnipeg synagogue. As the chair of the building committee, she spoke of the importance of the synagogue as a link from the past to the future, a place for praying, for celebration, for sharing, for consolation, for questions and answers. She could not have anticipated that 34 years later, three synagogue buildings would serve as sanctuaries for our family’s grieving.

In July 2017, Sylvia’s advancing Alzheimer’s disease resulted in her move to Winnipeg’s Simkin Jewish Center. On October 12, 2017, our uncle and my mother’s youngest brother, Kenneth Sachs, died in Minnesota. Then, on December 29, 2017, my mother, Teddy Aronson, died. As the legal and spiritual executor for the latter two and the confidante of my brother-in-law, Sylvia’s husband, David, I have gained a new perspective on how synagogue life, the people, the music -- and indeed the prayer -- can provide comfort and sustenance.

On September 1, two months after Sylvia moved to the Simkin Center, David volunteered to lead Temple Shalom’s Shabbat Services as he does on occasion. He opened the service by announcing that day was their 49 th wedding anniversary. David felt comfortable revealing this bittersweet anniversary date to his fellow congregants, many of who were also feeling their own loss of Sylvia’s company. The Kabbalat Shabbat melodies were the same melodies that the Simkin chaplain sang to Sylvia to soothe her during her time of transition there.

A widower, my uncle Kenny’s only child is estranged from him and lives in South America. Therefore, it fell to me to organize the funeral held in his temple sanctuary. Before the funeral, the rabbi assured us he knew more about our family than we could imagine. The rabbi arranged for the piano accompanist to play some of my uncle’s favorite pieces. This was special because my uncle, who worked for the US Postal Office his entire career, dreamed of becoming an orchestra conductor. In his eulogy, the rabbi told us that my uncle was nearly always in the sanctuary early Saturday mornings sharing stories and opinions. The rabbi pointed to his regular seat, stating he couldn’t imagine a service without my uncle sitting there. Although there were not sufficient mourners to carry the casket to the grave, my uncle’s essence was reflected in the musician’s selections and the rabbi’s anecdotes.

The day we flew to Minneapolis for my uncle’s funeral, I visited my mother at Silverado, her Morton Grove memory care unit, debating whether to bring her to Kahal where she had been a presence for so long. She was asleep, and I knew then that her days in her regular seat at Kahal were over. Upon her death two months later, one of the first sympathy notes shared the writer’s gratitude for my mother’s consistent presence at Beth Emet services. When she first joined the synagogue, knowing Teddy was there became a welcome presence. Others continue to look at her former regular seat at Kahal and confess they miss her demands that Kahalites speak louder, participate in Hebrew and they recall her passionate love of learning. For my mother, Beth Emet was a place of never-ending learning, a place that made her feel most alive.

At my mother’s funeral, Cantor Friedman sang the nineteenth century Yiddish song Oyfn Pripetchik which tells of a rebbe teaching the alphabet to children. The lyrics include the line translated as, “ Lucky is the one who has learned  Torah , What more does a person need?” That is quintessential Teddy. Rabbi London imagines her sitting at the Heavenly Yeshiva arguing with the greatest of Jewish thinkers. That gives me peace.

Now when I enter Beth Emet, I think of all these recent experiences. I think of the support and love I have received during this time in my life. Whether in the sanctuary, the chapel or the Weiner Room, I feel I have many choices of seats. I disagree with both the Oyfn Pripetchik lyricist and my mother. In addition to Torah, lucky is the one who has connections to other. My family and I are lucky to have connections here and know that those we deeply care about have found them in their own sanctuaries.
 
Sanctuary: a spot where one can honor one’s beloved through welcoming the Sabbath bride, where music can sustain one’s dreams despite everyday challenges, a place of learning, and a place to feel welcomed, and perhaps even embraced, for who one is.
Judy Aronson is a psychotherapist in Evanston and Chicago and on the faculty of the Institute for Clinical Social Work. She and her husband, Marc Hilton, raised their children at Beth Emet. One of Judy’s proudest accomplishments is organizing the first Kahal potluck. 
Judy Aronson with her family preparing for Rosh HaShanah, 1992.
If you’d like to share your thoughts with the congregation on what sanctuary means to you - a time in which you felt like a sanctuary dwelled within you, or how we can extend sanctuary to those who need it, feel free to reach out to Ellen Blum Barish and David Barish . 
In Exodus 25:8, God says to Moses, “Create for me a sanctuary, and I will dwell among them.” These words set the building of the Tabernacle into motion. But the verse’s ending has an interesting grammatical anomaly. Instead of telling the Israelites to create a sanctuary so God can dwell within it, the wording suggests that the dwelling may be amon g the people, or within them, suggesting that God can live within us rather than exclusively in a physical sanctuary. This year at Beth Emet we’ll explore the multiples meanings of sanctuary—as physical space to gather as a community for prayer, as spiritual space where we feel safe and whole, and as an attitude that is welcoming and accepting of everyone.

This weekly e-mail project, curated by David and Ellen Barish, allows congregants to express themselves in any of a variety of media: speechmaking, poetry, essay, story, photography, film, paint, sculpture, printmaking, textile, sound or music. If you'd like to contribute, please email Ellen and/or David .

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Beth Emet The Free Synagogue
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