AS WE TURN OVER THE CALENDAR …

As we turn the calendar from 2007 to 2008, my instinctive reaction is to say, “good riddance!” In addition to the personal loss I suffered with my mother’s illness and death, it was a year filled with many difficult, demanding and exhausting projects. It is tempting to want to close the door on that chapter of my life—and lock it and seal it shut.

But there is something lurking in my personality that can’t help embracing the amazing lessons that came along with the challenges. It’s as if I can’t ignore the remarkable gifts I’ve been given, even if I’d much rather block them out. I suspect that this comes from the same place that causes me to be devoted to pediatrics chaplaincy. Many people wonder how I can deal with the challenges of sick children, and yet all I see are the amazing blessings of that job. In the end, I choose not to try to understand it, but rather simply be grateful for it.

Judaism reminds us that we are surrounded by blessings in our lives, and encourages us to recognize them consciously. For me, looking back on the past year means counting those blessings (hoping for perhaps a few less in the coming year) and giving thanks for everything they have taught me.

My mother’s death was, of course, the biggest challenge of all. Her final days, coinciding with the High Holy Days, was especially problematic. One of the greatest gifts was the outpouring of kindness and concern from this congregation. I have always been grateful to be a part of Temple Beth El, but never more than over these last several months.

In dealing with the challenge of her death, I have shared before that I was glad to be able to use the personal emotion of that time to bring greater depth to my own prayers. But it has taught me another important lesson as well. While I am thankful that I was able to honor her memory through chanting the services, it also took its toll. And in that, I have gained new insights into the balance between my dedication as a professional to the people I interact with, and my need to have time in which I do not share myself with others. Our tradition tells us to see and respond to the needs of others, but it also instructs us to beware of being overwhelmed by the needs of others, as it is not fair either to us or the people we are trying to help. People have tried to explain this to me for years, but I never quite got it…until now.

It was also a year of challenging professional projects. In the Commission on Worship, Music and Religious Living, I have spent the last year trying to help us move past decades-old arguments about tradition and musical styles. I’m fortunate to have some very creative and trusting colleagues on the national level who both humored me and carried me through some treacherous waters. While we don’t know where the discussions will end up, at least we’re having real and enthusiastic discussions!

The other main work for the Commission has been the chatimah project—providing a resource for congregations who are to begin using Mishkan T’filah. While it has often been one of those projects that has made me wonder what I could possibly have been thinking by taking it on, I have to admit that it has also been great fun being part of this historic rollout of a new and very different Reform prayerbook.

Here at Temple, the service for the Armed Forces brought together so many people from within and outside our community. The sense of pride we all felt in reaching out to our soldiers was heartwarming. Although it was an exhausting and overwhelmingly involved project, it challenged my skills and creativity in a way that was exhilarating.

Whenever I’m feeling overwhelmed by the challenges in front of me, I also find myself reflecting with gratitude on the fact that I have such remarkable opportunities and get to interact with so many remarkable people. Yes, I’m ready to put 2007 behind me, but I look forward to walking into 2008 with some important lessons learned and blessings that come with them. May the new year be a year of blessing for us all—and may we all have the strength to embrace them.  

L’shalom,
Andrew Bernard
Cantor